You look down at the piece of paper you hold in your hoof.
“This is the place, I guess,” you say nervously.
You look up. You’re in front of a big, fancy building.
You look back down at the paper.
You applied for a modeling job (you have absolutely no idea what made you decide to do that) in the newspaper the other day, and this was definitely the right address.
You take a deep breath and step inside.
Inside the building, glamorous looking ponies, both male and female, trot around while fashion stylists chase them around applying makeup from all angles.
“Oh, wow,” you mutter, “this really isn’t my scene at all.”
A small furry white cat with razor-sharp claws runs over to you.
“Woah,” you say. “Those are some sharp claws. What’s your name, kitty?”
The cat stares at you.
“So what do you do here, kitty?” you continue. “Are you a claw model?” You laugh at your own jokette.
The cat walks off.
You’re thinking about turning around and leaving when a mare with a strange accent calls out to you.
“You!” she says, “Are you ze new recruit?”
You look at her for a moment before something in your mind clicks and you recognize her as Photo Finish, a highly popular and universally praised fashionista (is that even a word?).
“Uhh… yeah, that’s me,” you say quietly. “But I was thinking of maybe-“
Before you can even finish your sentence, she runs up to you.
She stands right in front of you and stares at your face for a second. You feel REALLY uncomfortable.
She raises a hoof and uses it to bring her glasses down to the end of her snout so she can get an unobstructed view of you.
“Hmmm…” she mutters. You get a weird feeling that you’re being analyzed.
You stare into her bright purple eyes.
“Okay, you’ll do,” she says.
You don’t reply.
“I said, you’ll do,” she repeats.
“Huh?” you say. “Oh, cool, yeah. Okay,” you say.
You realize that the instant you looked into her eyes you couldn’t look away.
Okay, first 10 minutes of a new job and already you’ve fallen in love with your boss. Nice work, Mr. Fucking Stupid, you think to yourself.
“You!” she says again. You can’t seem to place her accent. She sounds like she might be from Germaneigh, but you really suck at placing accents.
“Come over here!” she says.
You trot over to a podium.
“Stand on zat!” she barks.
You hop up on the podium and are immediately assaulted by an army of stylists who attack you with brushes and sprays of all kinds.
You hold your breath to avoid breathing in any chemical sprays. The last thing you need right now is to have an asthma attack. You don’t even have your inhaler with you.
That was dumb, you think to yourself. Why did I forget to bring my inhaler? I always take my inhaler everywhere.
You can’t really think straight after the barrage of styling products hit you, but you’re faintly aware of the fact that about 4 different cameras seem to be taking photos of you.
Being a model is harder than you thought.
This is getting tiring.
You’ve been at this all morning. You’re getting sick of having photos taken of you and you’re getting sick of stylists pummeling you with fashion products.
Photo Finish, who’s been stood there barking random orders at her employees the whole time, jumps up onto the podium next to you.
“You’re doing it WRONG!” she snaps at some random stylist who was trying to fit some stylish saddlebags onto you a second ago. “You haven’t strapped zese on tight enough! I’ll do it.”
As she attempts to tighten the fastening on your saddlebags, Photo Finish’s hoof slips and somehow, it manages to land right on your plot.
You freeze and stay completely still. You’re really not sure what to do. Maybe just pretend you didn’t notice?
The entire room has gone silent. This is awkward. Even Photo Finish, who hasn’t shut up all morning, is silent.
“Uhhh,” she finally says, “can… can you all leave ze room for a while?”
The stylists exchange puzzled glances for a minute.
“NOW!” Photo Finish says again.
The stylists all leave the room. You begin to follow them, but Photo calls you back.
“No. You stay here,” she says.
You stare at her for a second. “Uh, listen, I’m sure that was an accident, so don’t worry ab-“
She cuts you off by running over to you and kissing you.
She moans as she forces her tongue into your mouth and wraps her forelegs around you.
Well this is a surprise, you think. You’re not even sure what’s happening. Maybe this is just what celebrities do? See someone they’re attracted to and just start randomly making out with them?
Photo Finish breaks the kiss then pushes you down to the floor and stands over you. She smiles sexily at you then unzips her dress and steps out of it.
Even though ponies are usually always naked, this is still pretty hot.
She removes her sunglasses again and stares at you with her half-lidded, purple bedroom eyes.
She puts her forehooves on either side of your shoulders and her hindhooves on either side of your legs, so that she’s standing over you.
She smiles again and then closes her eyes and lowers herself down onto your throbbing, erect cock…
She gasps as you enter her and then moans as she lifts herself back up. She goes down again and up again, and you keep feeling the warmth of her moist marehood against your dick. It feels amazing for both of you.
At least, it feels amazing until your burst out in a coughing fit.
“Uhh,” she says, “are you okay?”
“Yeah, *COUGH* y-yeah,” you splutter, “I’m fine… just *COUGH* just give me a minute.”
Your coughing increases in intensity and it gets harder to breathe.
“Hey,” you say weakly, “I’m having an asthma attack.”
She stares at you blankly. “You… you have asthma? Don’t you have one of zose… things…?”
“An inhaler?” you finish for her. “Yeah, I do. It’s not with me. I think you should call the ambulance. I can’t breathe,” you choke out.
You cough again.
“Wait! I’m fine now!” you say. “Haha, that’s amazing! I actually got over an asthma attack! I’ve never seen anyone do that before!”
She continues to stare at you with a completely puzzled expression.
“So… can we go back to ze…”
“Yeah!” you reply. “Let’s go!”
She lowers herself down on top of you again, and you feel the warm juices of her vagina flow down yo-
CAT ATTACK
Before you even know what’s happening, a furry white cat with razor sharp claws leaps between you and photo finish and begins clawing wildly at your stomach!
“OW!” you scream. “WHAT THE HELL?!”
Photo Finish jumps back. “It’s zat stupid cat! We use it in photo-shoots sometimes!”
She tries to get the cat off you by gripping it’s backside with her hooves and dragging it away from you. Unfortunately, the direction she drags it in is right down your torso.
Towards your erect cock.
“NO!” you scream but it’s too late. The cat’s claws dig in to your cock, ripping and tearing anything they can get hold of. Which is everything.
“STOP! PLEASE!” you scream to the cat. “I THOUGHT WE HAD A BOND! I GREETED YOU WHEN I FIRST CAME IN HERE! PLEASE!”
The cat does not relent – his claws cut through your penisflesh like a knife through butter.
Photo Finish finally manages to rip the cat off you and throw it into another room, locking the door behind it.
“Oh, are you okay?” she asks.
You look down. Your groin has turned into a blood fountain.
You look back up at Photo Finish.
“Uhhhh,” you say, “call the… thing with the… thing… the ambulance…”
You manage to get that request in before falling into unconciousness.
You wake up in a familiar soft white bed in a clinical white room.
“Oh,” you say, “the hospital. As usual. Third time this week, I think.”
“Yep,” says a mare stood behind you. You roll over in bed to look at her. It’s Nurse Redheart.
“Uh…. Hi,” you say.
“Hey,” she says. “So what are you in hospital for this time?”
You notice she’s holding a sheet of paper in her hooves that states “severe penile fractures and unrepairable flesh wounds” as your reason for admission.
“You already know why I’m here,” you say. “It says right there.”
She smiles sadistically. “Oh, I know. I just want to hear you say it yourself.”
You sigh. “A cat ripped my wang up.”
Redheart bursts out laughing. This was gonna be a sucky hospital visit.
