Diary of Ambris, part one, courtesy of Twipet:
"My name is Ambris. I come from the Southern Pregious tribe in my homeland. When I learned about the caribou, my Elders selected several of us for training to appease them. I was later picked up in a zeppelin and brought here to Canterlot. Some yellow and blue mare made me do embarrassing acts, slapped this red collar around my neck, and the next thing I knew I was up here on stage while a pony was being taken off. Her head and tail drooped, and around her neck was a black collar. Her hindquarters looked red, like she’d been paddled quite a bit. At least that hadn’t happened to me. I was told I was being sold, and while I didn’t believe it, I was also told I always needed to be on my best behavior, to always do as my ’master’ demanded, no matter what it was. Both that mare and my Elders said that.

I mean, even when I was selected, I was made sure to understand what I was getting into. My body, all of it, would belong to whoever owned me. And he’d be sure to use me often. I am just now coming to understand what they meant. They shackled me in place and made sure the only motions I could make were either struggles or motions to please. I was told specifically that the more I enticed, the more I would go for and the more I’d please the caribou looking over me right now. And I certainly wanted to please. If I didn’t… I don’t want to think about that.

I just heard the auctioneer call my name, so I guess this is my chance to ’prove’ myself. While I am a virgin, the Elders made sure I knew how to show off. I spread my knees somewhat to show off my labia and lean forward to kiss at the audience. That seems to do the trick, as several of them go wild. This makes me glad, as I don’t want to find out what happens if I displease them. I shakily walk around my post, taking careful steps so I don’t trip from the spreader bar when I notice my auction number and details card. ’Virgin, Super Tight Ass, Loyal to a Fault, Loves Anal and Oral, Make me Beg for your Cum’. I swallow and take a deep breath, then I bend over and swish my tail from side to side so the entire audience can see what they’re probably here for. My asshole and nethers. I dread when I’ll first have something stuffed in them, just as I dread everything else. If I can help my village stay safe, then I’ll do what needs to be done. No zebra will say Ambris caused the downfall of her tribe.

At that moment, the auctioneer calls off the same exact things on my number card, then starts off the bidding. I’m not quite sure how many is a lot, but I think five-hundred bits may be that. Giving my rear the occasional wiggle, I look back at the audience in worry. Will my master be kind? Gentle and loving? Will he be like that crotchety old Elder who liked to beat his wife in a nearby village? Or that one in mine that only ever looked at his wife for sex and children? Various ponies and caribou both raise little cards with numbers on them and call out bids of their own. I listen as my price rises. Six-hundred. Seven-fifty. Nine-Hundred. Twelve-fifty. Fifteen-hundred. Even with my arms tied behind my back, I bend all the way down until my head is nearly between my legs. Flexibility was one thing I’d been chosen for, as well as beauty and meekness, as the Elders said. That little trick brings the bidding back and by that point only two stallions are outbidding each other. I am already up to twenty-five hundred. Twenty-six. Twenty-eight. Three-thousand! I hear the auctioneer call out "Going once! Going Twice! SOLD!"

I turn to see a wealthy looking stallion walk out from the crowd. He walks up to the podium and places a few sizable pouches of bits upon it. One of my caribou overseers undoes me from my post and removes my spreader bar. He pats me on the ass and calls me a good little slut, but I pay him no attention. Swallowing again, my eyes only have room to watch my new master. The stallion that now owns me. I hope with all my fervor that he will be a kind one