[Disposal] Donkey Ass, Express Shipping
Donkey Ass, Express Shipping
Written by Septia.
A drop of sweat paved a patch in my coat across my forehead; ears twitched as I processed what the mailmare had just told me.
“Excuse me, what?”
“That's how it is, ma’m. Apologies for the inconvenience.”
“B-but,” I stammered, the vibrations in my hooves arching down to the package I clutched on the counter, nudging it towards the mare behind the counter, “this shipment has to move out today, it is already behind schedule and its late.”
She grasped the hoof length package and brought it closer. “Again ma'm, I'm sorry. We can accept it and send it out first thing tomorrow. You have to be ahead with these matters.”
“But I was,” I called out and tugged the box back to my end, “there was no pony to pick up the shipments this past week.”
The mailmare tugged the package a smidgen closer. “I can issue a complaint for you, but it is out of my hooves. I can take it in and send it firs thing tomo-.”
“Why? I came here first thing today to make sure it could be taken.” I exclaimed and reeled back. The mare unleashing the grasp; my force bent against me as I tumbled onto my flank with package -Ckfkp- Smacking into me in tow.
“Workday starts the same time for every pony in the post office. The crew's already ta-.”
“But that's… that’s, inconvenient.” Then, my eyelids flipped open. “Wait, the day just started, are they still outside.”
She shrugged as she leaned over the counter. “I suppose so, but they are keen on schedules here so the-.”
“Thgank's a lwhht.” I called out and galloped out the office, holding the package by the string of the wrapping, the weight bobbing down my molars but, but I was determined. Tailing around the post office and seeing the ringed in flattened field thereto. Two carts at one end and a range of pegasi double checking their saddlebags in the other.
“Mfmghid hgits.” I mumbled and lunged the package over the fence, leaping after it-. -Kkgnfjkgt- to find out it was just a smidgen taller than I'd accounted for. “Ofofmpsgh… fsh mmfs, I'm fine, fine I just,” I mumbled as I teetered over the fence, gathering my package as I saw the pegasi take flight. “W-wait wajgms.” I mumbled as I snatched up the package and ran… seeing them rise into dots in the sky above. I turned my attention to the carts, of course, they carried the packages. Though, I found the workhorses pulling the carts had a lot more horsepower behind them… and I was met with a cloud of kicked up dust.
“Sheesh, phheah, pheu… gaannhhff… oh man. If only I hadn't wasted time wit the dumb office, now the shipment’s late, and sis'll get mad, and all the work's for naught, and tomorrow 's' just more work that I hav-.”
-Thfddwft- I stumbled, knocked aside on the path.
“Pardon, didn't see ya there.” came a stout, amber voice from the settling dusk. Two wide, stocked saddlebags on each side of their ochre body – which itself matched the dust, as if he emerged from it. The mule adjusted his post cap and gave me a nod, before sauntering ahead.
“H-hang on. You are a pack mule? For the post office?”
He stopped, and turned, his plump muzzle a shoo-in for the smooth hind, compressed on each side by the day's delivery. “Ahmma donkey, if thas' what yer askin'. So, miss…?”
“Mozza, Mozza Rhind.”
“Fancy, miss Mozza, what can ah do ye fer?” He responded with a hoist of his hind and a clack of his lips.
“Well, I got this package, I ah…” I mumbled and then hoisted up the package…
“And ya couldn't wait till morn?”
“Ihts hasfst tfo head dfhot tffodyy.” I mumbled and dropped it back down. “I thought we could just, since you are on your way already, just, stuff it away in…” I mumbled, peering over the full saddlebags, walking around the donkey and turning the package to see if I could puzzle it in place; the tone of my voice declining after a full revolution without any luck.
“’Fraid that ain't gonna fly, miss.”
“T-that- that is ok, I get it, I get it. Appreciate it though.” It wasn't gonna be fun, but I didn't have much choice outside of biting the sour apple an-.
“’Cept, ya might be in luck, miss,” he said and flicked his slender tail aide. -Cnnfgggrrnfftw- A tension of muscles rustled through the air, as his hind – encumbered and weighed shut by the cargo – bolstered thick with brawn to wedge the saddlebags aside, blooming to a taut bulk hat cleaved a path for the crack to broaden, and within the clasp teasing at the reverberate ring of sinew.
“Send it through mah priority service.”
I stared at the buffed out donkey buns, protruding thick as a leavened loaves of dough sloughing over their oven forms. “Whw-whaa?”
-Slmmcht- he smacked his hind, sending a brief ripple throughout his coat, engulfed in the rigid blubber.
“Us Post pones presents ponuts to preserve n' protect parches, padded posterior pudge provdidn' protection in pursuiting a perfect purvey, promptly.” he said
“Aa-… aah.” I mumbled, a few more streaks of sweat joining the previous. “A-and yo are sure that… this is ok?”
“Ey ah've been trucking 'long since earl morn, one more crammed in with ya helps fine, 's long as ah get back on route, whaddya say, interested?”
“Yes.” I caught up with myself after I'd spoken, the way this muscles bend and melded into such smooth dunes were…
“Great, ah'll just ready fer the load up,” he said and crouched, juggling backwards out of the tunnel of bag straps, peeling his rear free of the confines of the parcels, and giving me a close up of the flank fatigue booming broad as he stepped free. “Ready when ya are ready.”
“S-so I just?”
“Sure do.”
“B-but-.”
“T-that's what ya lookin' at.”
“A-and you are sure?”
“Sure's as honey inna hive, so what''s with the hold-up? Yer and the rest of these fine pone's package's gotta get movin'. Ah'd be remiss to leave a mare an her box out tah dry,” he said and jutted out his rear, the jostle sending a quiver over his buns, and then through me.
I peered over the smooth, ochre hills for a bit then down at the package. Its short end took up about a third of his rear, and I had my doubts. Though… -Shfggllvvshs- the textures of wrapped cardboard and flank fat married to the grind of a rubber eraser.
“Ooha, that cargo chute standin' by.”
-Chnnvrrsh- the padded flank mass brushed along the confines of the package, meeting its parameters to bulge out square. It sunk in with a little touch of pressure, -Shhffs- a smear of oil rustling the air as the box malformed the ochre cleft ahead in its journey to the depths Betwixt. Despite the dimensions, the package seemed dwarfed by the hind ahead, steamrolling over the edges and burying it in pudge.
-Splfbrlfpsths- Then drawn out, crinkling smatters of pulp crept out though the air. – as if some pony had been trying with all their might to erase jam with a rubber -Chrllrhchtst- -Shcvrrlpcshtslpw- It seemed to be working. I kept my hooves by the side of the package, supporting it as the rear enveloped it, schooching through the plump, fuzzy cheeks of the donkey to merge within the symphony of lathered bowels.
-Chnnght- -Chhjnnckthw- I felt the web of musculature tauten within, the bowels' clutches grasping a hold of the package and drawing it inward. Within each tug the decisive force jolted through all the way down my own spine. “W-whoa, that is, i-impimpressive.” I mumbled.
“Yea think so? Standard issue fer a, what'ya say, a pack mule? Only ta prime packages gets ta travel this secured. Ain't many robbers willing ta search that deep eiath so mfmgsg phaa, tas an insurance ya get all fer free.”
I felt my muzzle nodding along, whilst my heart trucked along in the rhythm of the trawling bow trunk, the bowels's muscle spasms escorting the cargo with the efficiency of a conveyor belt, or tube, embraced on all sides. I peered down, watching the straight outlines – muddled by the smooth clasp of his coat – burgeon down in his barrel; the flattened knoll appearing to melt in naturally with the pale underbelly, adjusting and stretching with rumbles of -Ghbflflpghs- -Vhflgs- the internal organs stretching and displacing to accommodate the haul I loaded into it. -Chslphth- the -chhvrlpsths- The churns wrung from the hugging hind giving the air of an organic clockwork of meaty, grinding cogs and tendons – a mangled, satisfying orchestra from the consignment congesting his colon, instilling a sense of satisfaction as everything trucked along without a hitch. I closed my eyes and sighed, listening in my ears to the tune of -Clpthsts- -Chcvhst-s -Pfkfchs- popping muscles and crawling tissue.
-Chhflpths- -Twhp- Till the tug ground to a crawl.
“Mmfr…” I mumbled, and shoved on the package. -Chltptsh- it wouldn't budge. -Chhghts- Another shove. “Mmfrf, get… in there, didn't have time f-for you not to fit,” I mumbled and heaved in. -chhfgt…- -Chcllpchths- -Chhvlspthsts- in that heave, the tension acquiesced, and the package plummeted, -Clslpghthsh- with my front hooves following suit. “Mgs, wah, wha?”
“Mmfs ah yeah, get, gmm,” he huffed ahead and stepped back with a jostle of his hind wedging over my pinned legs, “In, there,” -Chglptsh- -Glspthsts- each word punctuated by a grating thrust of his hind to scooch up my hooves, my shoulders threading into the compacting clutches of his buttocks and clamping in place, stepping back to -Chhgltpthsg- wring my funnelled forelegs down into his depths, where I felt -Cflflprclsptlsts- a humid crinkle of convulsing flesh engulfing their presence in dampness, slacking and soaking my hooves, passing through the precipice of the protruding pucker.
“Pwhaa, hope ya don't mind taggin' along, an as said, thers' nothing to get ya hooves in a tist 'bout,” -Cglgpsths- he said with a wink back and a flash of a lemon tinged smile whilst I tried to wedge free -Shfhsts- only to have my muzzle suctioned to slot in the canyon of donkey flank, mule blubber bunching up and smothering my face.
“Mfm, mfsghs, Yhogu smfms woulngs't.” I mumbled.
“Ey dun worry 'bout It, I've sure packed away fmsm much weightier payloads than yer package, miss mare. Mah hind compartment tends ta get a bit cramped, though I'll ensure ta compact,” -Clpghtts- a jostle of flexed brawn danced over the jostling hinds wading up over my face, “ta compact ya to prepare fer the course ahead.” He said and patted over my head, brushing gravel and dust into my mane before-. -Clllphhthsj- The cheeks buffed up over my eyes, and my vision was consumed in the expanse of rippling, kneading donkey ass, clasping over my head and muting my groans as it funnelled me to into the hungry pit gnawing onto my legs.
-Thsvjfllspshsk- -Kckpgltpbhusghs-. The parameter of musk imbued meat consumed my hooves in heavy thrusts, drawing my muzzle past the mattress of cramped pudge sculpting over my face before giving me a brief respite to breath in the wake of depths of his crack; the eye of the storm, where I was both in, and staring right at it. The flesh ring which warped and suckled and kneaded bowel grease into my hooves, clattering them in a gunk build up from the streams of fluids coursing and crouching down the furrowed patterns of crumpled flesh winking at me from the other side of the orifice. -cleft- It clasped a firm grasp on my hooves, sealing in to a mere line between my hooves before… -BHFHrrwoollccbrrwth- -Cbvrrlpffths- Scores of blaring flatulence punched through the cargo chute, the moisture laced fumes backslapping into my muzzle and parting to curl and swathe down my mane, funnelled and corralled by the firm crack. The air permeated with the air of a cider distilled from ripe olives and pepper marinades.
“Pfhahah.”
“Mmgng pshaw, can't unload those stinkbombs in the office, fmsma aah, ain't it just the peach's pit to lay them out?” -Fppfbrrlwpths- he asked as the miasma of burnt vinegar musk plastered into my face and tossed my mane back through the jiggling hams. “An 'botu the smell? Fogeddaboutit, package's arrive aireated, fresh. Receiver won't get a lick of that funk.” -Fbbglrlrpfhfhhst- the gales pushed into me, a wall of fog drawing me back through the brim by a cent - Clslpthths- only for the pucker to blossom around and -clslthths- ensnare my shoulders. Hauling em in as they reverberated. The fume lubricated pit -Chrllrpathhca- gaped and sloughed across my forehead, smearing back my ears flat to the walls and filling them with the -cllpghtg- pops and creeping crinkles of the walls welling forth and worming me into the donkey's catacombs.
“Phds, amMfms fha pfhfsm haa…” I panted, shifting and grunting, instincts pulling me back, protesting the embrace of plush bundles of meat laid lissome against my cheeks, where the… rugose wall patterns bunched up and… tickled me with gracious, smooth kneads through my coat. T-that part, wasn't… so bad. T-though the scent was… -Pfpflfbbts- -Fhhfrt- a soft plume of the malodour whispered by me, the air petered out into a robust funk of roasted nuts, with an almost, sweet, feminine tang smoothing the mellowing steam from the Donkey's sauna. “Mfpsh, ph… haha… mfms. Phaa…” My breathing still lodged in my throat, though, soothed somewhat. The embrace of hugging flesh around my head and neck telling me to relax, that it has me, all whilst radiating with a pleasant heat exuding form every pore around me. And… I tended, to agree with it…?
“Mphaa, ahah? Soufmsms, all tuckered out back there, fancy miss mare? I ah'm used ta longer trips with quite the ballast, but ya'll been lugging around that package all morn', how about we just mfmss, sit down and relax fer a bmgms spellfmms.” He sighed, leaning backwards, I felt my hooves folding like jelly under the weight and stimulation ensnaring my core -Slltphbfwpgphtst- his rear landing back seated with my hind clapping to the ground -Lcfhfstlpthsts- and in the motion feeling how the gape devoured far into my barrel, wringing and -Slfpsths- squeezing me with the trickling trembles of his pucker as we sat back, and plugged me into his depths with the weight of his uncurling plot moulding and kneading down the length of my tummy. -Cllpshghthst- -Clspghthsgs- -Clslgbshwa-
“That's more like it.” He huffed out, I could sense his heartbeat convulsing just a snoot's length away from me, my lips quivering under the clench of my teeth as -clspgfhhts- -Cscpsghts- his gyrating rear screwed back and forth down along the lengths of my lap, sprawling over my hind in its reeling of my frame. -Fbbfrfhsllspths- more emission of vapours, raw petrichor heat exuding from the clouds of smog, flicking back my mane in he hot gusts of exhaust exchange.
Through it I noticed I had lost track of the package. Though it was surely ahead somewhere, in the sinuous depths of the bowels, plied away into another bulge of cargo stashed away for a safe delivery. And me… just a hoof behind, -Slclgb- -bBggllsh- pampered with massages from the undulating tunnel of brawn and blubber, caressing every stretch of my body, and cupping around my hind -Clslpthghrpshthsts- as the pucker spanned over my own hills.
-Shfflprhts-clpsthhts- I felt distant from my hind hooves, they were somewhere back there, still in the ravages of clean air, sunshine, and responsibility. I wouldn't be long though -slpvhths- there padding was cradling them, drawing me into the cargo hold. The sensation of the full body massage in constant flux with the -Clspghthst- -Krlspvlghsths- -cliffs- smushes and smears of the bowels cocooning me, drawing me deeper into the miasma of potent calm and a just a dash of freshly mortared pepper. In here, I was encouraged, almost forced, to be still, to breathe, and simmer in myself. -Sclrprthhtss- Then, a patch of sinew ahead parted, gaping with filaments of lube sprawling in a web from its extremes. And head, through it, I could catch a glimpse of the package. I smiled. It was safe and sound, I had done my part. Maybe hadn't gotten caught up on enough sleep the past few days. There seemed to be no time when -krkshggpghs- stressing over shipments, but, there as nothing but.
~ 1 ~
-Fhlfpsths-chsthsts- The creaking of a congregation of slugs warped out from the pucker as it clasped and sucked over my hooves, pucker -Sdpsths- distending and warping its lips over them to swell out in a wide bulb before. -Chflpsghthstss- it concaved, and sent the sprawling bulges of me sinking into the sultry abyss.
“Mofhpaaaa,” The donkey huffed to himself as she massaged and kneaded into his cheeks splaying them apart and -Clslpths- clapping them together, the pucker adjusting and contracted to its usual pit. “Tha's one package, safely mamds, aa, satisfyingly accepted,” he said, and caressed a hoof down his abdomen, along the indents between my legs and sailing dunes of my hooves and head lodged in his shipping compartment. “Thare's a bit fer us both ta savour. Told ya I could squeeze ya I my schedule,” -Scslplwthc- he said with a smack to his cheeks, sending a ripple through the pulses of muscular beef, flexing as he -Gslpthg- -Sglpsghs- sauntered up with a staggering sway and dangling of his abdomen, jostling and bobbing along his stride back to his saddlebags.
“Fmm fmsmpgsh. Fmsp.”
“Hush, if yer candour, could see this as me takin ya as payment,” -Lfrrspths- he said and prodded his tummy, as he leaned down and -Slcpshtts- his gut smoothed to the ground as he wormed in under the harness of the full satchel. “In another, ay could see this as a vacation, just like it is fer every other package,” he said -Clslpghthsts- dragging his gut to the ground to the light squeals and coos of me within. He adjusted his cap, thin tail flicking back and swaying between the imposing buns. “An just like every other package, their trips tend ta be one way,” the donkey snickered and rose, -Llcbghthgs- his gut bounding and hanging sluggish from her barrel towards the ground, -Csltthths- the rear bags compacting over his cheeks, slimming it down till there was no trace of the majestic posterior he sported.
The donkey flipped open a booklet, and jotted down; one package, priority; one earth pony mare, enveloped. “There we are,” he said and started trotting along with a steady rhythm, bags shaking, -Clglpghths- tummy jostling, -Sllfht- tail flicking- -Cggngshgs- and hind creaking as it rose and fell between the taut lodged sacks, “Promise ta get ye ta yer destination, and just,” -Fplfhtbtthss- his tail flicked as a cloud of deep umber miasma pooled from his this hind, flicked and fanned by his tail, “just' a lil' compacted on the way, ya know, fer ease of transport.” he snickered.
Thus, my package departed the transfer terminal in ponyville, and my journey began.
~ 2 ~
Dawn was an ever looming promise over dodge junction. With the hour still rested at his back, a pack mule made his way into town – a single pair of filled saddlebags on his back, and a square protrusion marking the zenith of his domed abdomen. -Gbrhglgsha- came a twist of liquefied bog within the donkey's guts.
“Right, miss, we're justa coupla steps off a yer destination.” he calmed his gut ad sauntered through the desolate streets, guided by the moonlight to the general store. He sauntered up on the porch and, schooched up close by the door with this generous hind spilling free with a rattle of a -Fbbrlpfths- bout of amber smog. “Yeup, just bout time ta drop ya off.” He spread his rear legs, cleaving his hind above with the oscillating bulb of a pucker peeking forth from between them. -Fllccfsts- Winds whistled past with an air of smoked grapes and olives. -Crhflslptsh- A crikel of hot, warm clay. Between the vents of the brim creaked wider, unveiling a stretch of autumn umber nestled within his depths through the brim.
“Ya know, soon as ah bumped into ya, ah had the thought 'well thas a mare in need a some relaxing,” -Chrbrhfhths- as the pit engorged, broadening to re-open over a stretch of raw muk, squeezed by the convulsions of the brim to mimic the sound of a jelly sandwich in the making, “and Ah've gotta thank ya back, for helping me take a load off myself.” -Pfpffvvrggs- -Chrllpvhthths- A flush of vapours muted into a contortion of mud, as the brim peeled back, blooming over the engorging onslaught of those reeking, steaming donkey sludge. -Cgrrlllpchshthst- his pit gaped to its limits and was teased wider by the width of the slag heap curling out through his pucker. -Sfhvflrlpsths- the mound barging through laid clad in a surface of thin fissures sprouting over a texture of heated nougat. Along these slim trails crowded streams of translucent fluids, a lubricating bowel slime, squeezed along the hair thin trenches on the uniform concoction of donkey ass fudge. The clump crowned by the encroaching rhind. The bowel slime trickled across the hazel hued muck, soaking up its hue to cloud the glistening rivers – as the rivers flowed they morphed from scintillant veins reflecting the last gasp of moonlight, to meld into the matte of the surrounding grime as it traversed along the length of the burgeoning column.
“Phaha, aha, those sure are sum impressive goods. Can ya believe ei was lugging around this much mare sludge all the way here?” He gave out a soft sigh as -Shfrlrpthhffshtsts- the tension and creaking of his pucker housing the shipment reached an equilibrium, and once his cargo chute ceased hampering, it allowed the cantaloupe girthed pillar to billow through in its fatty, -Chfflfpghts- grease smeared glory.
-Chflfpgthvh- -Cflpghthhs- the muck clumped onto the wooden boards of the porch, with the elongating anaconda of ballast first folding into a tangle -Chlrlpfhtss- where the mounds bulldozed over one another in a lissome texture, -Chflgpthgs- -Csbgghthsts- though soon enough as the congestion continued clotted and -Krfhhgvlrlfth- crinkled, and begun to serpentine its way into a spiral of a stacking, -Chsflspths- climbing payload of polished fudged.
“Haaawf yeah. Ya know, I had another feelin' when I bumped into ya? I was thinking 'boy, would she ever fit snuggly in the mfms, priority chute', and I gotta say, yo fmsms, ain't a mare to disappoint a donkey. This ere more casual look'd's sure ta suit ya body and mind more that a stressed out, mfmfs, workin' earth pony. Really, eh firsts more yer element than mine, considering themmf sma, sheer might a this mortar.” He mumbled whilst the auburn rich cement swirled in a wide, somewhat uneven, gradually slimming spiral.
-Chflfpsbhcst- As more mulch piled atop, the lower layer compressed, smushing out towards where the bottom tubes billowed out into dunes of dung chub, spreading out the base of the heap of manure wider and further to stabilize. -Chflprths- the creaks and fractures between mounds of muck melding to glue together across the surface of the stack, forming into a labyrinth of contouring, twisting and -chgflflpsthghs- warping canals through which globs of mule nectar packed away and dropped out in oozing dollops of dung sweat. Worry and responsibility melting clean off of the compacted cargo.
“Thought ye'd be more compacted, guess ya had a nice time filling out ma delivery hatch, an' dmsfs, dun think I mind at all, miss.”
-Fbrbflprrrth- a boiling putter of miasma bubbled around the chunky length of donkey batter, -Clslpth- -Kcspgths- making his taut brim ripple and clap into the obese, slick discharge. -Sclpghrhhth- the manure accommodated the pucker’s slimming breadth; the half meter high spiral of soft-serve nougat curling in diminishing circles, the tail heel of the loaf -Sflspths- detaching from the pucker with a smooch and piling into he heap as the garnish -Cshflsptsh- curled at the tip. -sllfpthw- it clapped into the heap with a thud of batter hitting the counter top. A pony's weight of mare manure lounged on the porch, and in its wake oozed swathes of vapours, injecting a zest of a tart, mushroom and olive stew, with a sprinkle of dusk, and musk concentrated enough you could taste the potent brine on your breath.
“Mmgs, tha, then thwith the ballast dropped, tt-gms, thest- juta matter a.fmsm, delivery.” The mule huffed as his pucker pinched and -Chrllpffwths- contorted. The aperture of flesh contouring square, to where it warped square over the edges of Mozza's package. -Chfllrprthhcsh- Creaks undulated from the straining pucker, likened to polishing a windowpane with a rag soaked in caramel. -Chfbtws- the cheeks bunching up and conforming to the outline of the shipment as it wound its way outwards. -Vlflprhgh- The packaged extended out through the creaking hatch, wiggling in. Shaking off residue into scattering droplets, glistening in the first beams of the perching sunlight teasing over the horizon. -Chshfthst- Then with a thrust of his cheeks and flex of the fine hind -Slflstshts- the package flopped out, and took a nosedive into the heap below. -Chflrpthbbllpwsuhs- its impact was reminiscent of scraping up the batter off the counter top to slung it right into a trash bin -shvllpthts- the muck accommodating the package that dove into its texture, re-informing to displace the droves fatter around it with a crater formed around the stilted package, digging into the soft-serve. Once the long-box had sunken halfway into the -Chsllpgthhts- moulding, molten cheddar texture of a cushion, it had the guise of a bar of chocolate wedged into a sprawling ice cream treat, or the straw dug into the whipped cream swirl of a cup of hot chocolate. Drops of bowel dew trickled down the edge of the package, and poled into the smushed fissures and folds of the cushioning mare.
“Phew, Aaaha, af, express, and in person delivery, ain't nothing better, phaa,” he fanned a hoof over his muzzle as the pluming odour rose in stacks of vinegar spiked smog from the smoothed clutter. “Thank ya fer shippin' wiff Donkey ass, happy ta melt a mare's worries away and take a load off, while providing' a cushy landing for their shipments.”
-Cflflthg- A huff of gas wheezed from the squeezed mound in the stack, “Oh Ah assure ya, it's mah pleasure, ta take that load off wiff ya.” The delivery donkey said with a tip of his post cap, straddled up in his saddlebags, and moseyed on over to continue his postage round in the town, checking off two packages from his checklist, as the early sun baked the pile of fresh manure cradling the shipment, just in time.
