Author's Note

Boo Boo Goes to the Market
Written by Pretty Penne, edited by Sepia

Contains: BDSM themes, Lactation, Livestock Play, Red Cheeks

Boo Boo Goes to the Market

Boo Boo, a marecow formerly known as slave SP-0872, gulps while she is led into the farmer’s market, her cow-print covered ears splayed back as she tries not to meet anypony’s eyes. She keeps her pale tail pinned between her legs, the twitchy appendage occasionally brushing up against the insides of her cow-print stockings. She can feel her laden udders bounce with each trot, gravity knocking them together as little drops of milk flick past the golden piercings that now grace her teats.

Her udders are not the only parts that bounces. She can feel her nose ring. The heavy, golden metal taps against her upper lip as she travels, a constant source of discomfort that is impossible for Boo Boo to ignore. Then there is the bell, the coup de grace of the several bits of metal spreading her mareh… no, her cowcunt wide, the dangling little bit pierced into her throbbing clit, each little jingle tugging the marecow further into heaven and hell. It’s hard to focus on anything else--where she is going, what will happen when she gets there. She has to focus on moving forward, on ignoring the jingles and the little spikes of pain and pleasure digging their way up her spine with each step…

Boo Boo yelps, her head shooting up from the floor as she realizes that they have arrived. Her handler, an orange earth pony with a luscious blonde mane, raises her brow. “Well, Boo Boo, time to make my profit off of you. Git up there, ya hear?” The mare’s tone is not unkind, but it is professional and brokers no argument. She points to a nearby platform, a raised, sturdy wooden square with plenty of space, and the sign in front reading Inspections, One Tally. Purchase, Two Lashes.

Boo Boo hesitates for just a moment. Part of her feels almost proud of that pricing. Two lashes? Was she really worth that much? But mixed with that craven pride is an equal helping of her usual nerves. Could she really get up on that stage… could she let herself be inspected by pony after pony, like a piece of tantalizing meat, sold to the highest bidder, taken to their farm to join any other marecows they have, kept in dank, dirty stalls, fed only the plainest of grasses, her swollen udders milked day after d-

SMACK

Another smack cuts off Boo Boo’s reveries and makes her decision for her. With a yelp, the marecow jumps onto the platform, almost falling onto her face before she manages to rise back to her hooves. She briefly raises her hoof to her neck, adjusting the red collar there, and looks back to see that her safety bell is still in place… and it is. Gulping, she gives the bell a single, clear ring, indicating her acceptance of her position.

“Good girl, Boo Boo. Spread ‘em now. Raise yer tail and let them see the merchandise. There’s a good girl.” The handler gives Boo Boo’s inner thighs two light taps, and the marecow wastes no time in complying with the silent command. She lifts her tail straight up, spreading all four legs out and planting them in position, her head lowered as her cheeks heat up, but still raised enough to see the ponies gawking at her as she passes by. She knows full well she is not allowed to hide from their gazes in any way.

The surrounding crowd varies. There are a mix of mares and stallions in masks, some alone, some in groups, chatting and surveying the various offerings of the marketplace. More than a few are examining Boo Boo herself, something that causes the marecow’s purple cheeks to darken. There are others tugging along some of Boo Boo’s fellow marecows, some set up just like Boo Boo, some in much harsher setups. Boo Boo does her best to ignore them, but her positioning makes it impossible. She knows that she looks just like them as she stands on her pedestal, she knows that is just how the Owners and potential buyers walking around the market see HER… and so each marecow she spots sends a shiver down her spine.

Ultimately Boo Boo watches all of them, her eyes darting back and forth as her head stays dutifully still, waiting for somepony to approach.

As such, she is taken completely by surprise when she feels a sudden flick to her bell piercing. “Hm… what do we have here?”

The marecow eeps, her hind legs starting to close together before a swift swat to her rump reminds her to keep them spread. She looks back over her shoulder, squeaking when she sees a red furred pegasus wearing white mask, with no plume, no border. Gold leaves are scattered around the edges of the mask. Across the left side is the image of an orange mare, clearly splayed in an 'Atone' position, with heavier marks near her arms to suggest bondage. Across the right, a purple mare, crop held between her teeth, clearly watches the orange mare squirm. Boo Boo knows this mask. She’s seen it before.

“One tally you say, Applejack? I think you’ve undersold your merchandise. I’d have paid two for the privilege of inspecting this fine-looking specimen.” The Pegasus smirks, staring right into Boo Boo’s eyes as she speaks, the marecow quickly averting her gaze.

Boo Boo is left to squirm and wait as the transaction occurs, her tail raising just a little higher. Soon enough, the pegasus stands in front of her again, her wing curling up to pat the marecow on the head.

“You’re a beauty. Pretty little thing, that’s for sure.” She reaches a hoof in without ceremony and urges the marecow to open her lips, peering close and examining her teeth closely, taking her time and tilting the marecow’s head back and forth to peer at different sides of her muzzle. After close to a minute of this, she turns to Boo Boo’s handler and gives a tiny nod of approval, then moves on.

The pegasus’ next point of inspection is Boo Boo’s hanging udders, her hoof curling under to give one of them an indelicate squeeze. “Hmmm… those are nice and full. The poor dear must not have been milked for a week!” The pegasus tuts, curling her head under to give that dripping teat a slow lick as a soft, depraved whimper drips from the horny marecow’s lips. “Mmm… warm and sweet. Perfect.”

The pegasus moves on from the udders and the inspection continues. She takes her time, occasionally reaching out with a hoof or wing to stroke or inspect part of the marecow’s anatomy. Boo Boo desperately wants to turn her head to watch. That would be very, very naughty, however, and Boo Boo was determined to be a good little marecow, even if the multiple teasing flicks of her clitbell were starting to drive her up the wall. She parts her lips in a soft moan, then squeals, her ears pinning back as she remembers another order and follows that pony noise up with a deep, throaty moo.

“That’s a well-trained moocow. I think you like hearing your bell, don’t you? Most cows do like that sound. It makes them feel safe.” Boo Boo feels a hoof start to stroke up the underside of her tail, moving from the base to the very tip before starting again. “They just love to hear that bell make all of those pretty noises.” Her wing curls under to give that bell a flick, and indeed draws out some pretty noises, from bell and marecow alike. “Over…” Flick. “And over…” Flick. “And over…”

A fourth flick. Boo Boo can feel her hind legs trembling from the effort to stay spread. She can smell herself now, her scent filling the air around her. Surely others can smell it as well. Sweet Celestia, from her position, the pegasus has to be able to see how puffy her cowcunt is. If the pegasus sees, however, she doesn’t let it phase her. She just keeps flicking the bell, and stroking Boo Boo’s tail, keeping no set rhythm or pattern, making the moments of contact impossible to predict. Boo Boo lets out another throaty moo, trying to stick to the noises she is allowed to make as that torturous pleasure builds. She’s close. Dangerously close. She must be dripping by now, no doubt forming a nice little puddle of milk and arousal. Just a little more…

Then, all contact stops, the pegasus taking a step back as Boo Boo despairs at the lost stimulation. “Yes, this is quite a specimen, Applejack. I think she would be a good addition to my stables. Of course… there is one minor problem.”

Boo Boo stiffens, her heart dropping into her stomach. Problem? There was a problem? She bites her lower lip, her head drifting lower. Had she done something wrong? Was she not good enough? Was she a bad marecow? All those little doubts start to flicker through her lust addled brain, sending her close to a full blown panic

Until another swat to her rear jerks her out of it as she turns her head to see the pegasus holding a heavy, crimson paddle, her lips curled up into a malicious smirk. “Her two sets of cheeks don’t match right now. The ones on her face are darker. That’s okay though, I think with a little effort we can fix that right up.”

Boo Boo gulps as the paddle rises high into the air, letting out her deepest moo yet.