HOME | DD

Description

The tiny ranch hand found himself in a nasty predicament after being approached by one of the numerous giant equestrians milling around the property. Each of these customers paid exorbitant sums of money to ride their thoroughbreds on rural weekends getaways, far from their luxurious city lofts and upscale boutiques. The little ranch hand knew this and had grown tired of their extremely demanding and often arrogant behavior - especially among the female equestrians who seemed to spend more time parading around in their tight breeches and tall boots than actually riding horses. Traditionally, he didn't interact much with the visitors (as other little men were trained to wait on their personal needs at the ranch), but each occasion that brought him within close proximity to one of these snooty giants was an unpleasant one.

On this day, the little ranch hand was clearing the way from a graveled walkway. Part of his duties on the ranch involved making sure all visible thoroughfares were free of debris, small hazards, or anything that the giant visitors may deem unpleasant. Sometimes this meant taking his tiny shovel and lifting tons (from his perspective) of heavy horse shit from the middle of a path to behind a barrel or a patch of high grass; anywhere a giant would be unlikely to chance upon it. As he started to shovel away one rather large clump of horse dung, a tall giantess dressed in traditional equestrian attire approached him. However, the little man was feeling particularly spiteful on that particular day and chose not to even look up at her as she loomed over him; her presence having been announced by the dark shadow which now covered he and his entire workspace.

"Excuse me. . . little man. . . you there," she called expectantly.

He reluctantly dropped his shovel behind the horse shit and looked up at the towering trust-fund dilettante.

"I understand you have what passes for a delicatessen on this property. As I've been walking around for nearly twenty minutes and haven't happened across it; where might I find this eating establishment, little stable-boy?"

The funny thing is that the ranch hand can't even remember what exactly he said to her in reply. He was already in a bad mood and his temper was especially short. So, we can bet that whatever he said, it wasn't kind and it was probably downright rude. The first two rules of dealing with a giant is never to talk shit to them and to never turn your back on one while she is talking to you. Our protagonist violated both of these rules, and he immediately felt the bottom sole of the visitor's leather boot on his back as it slowly pressed him into the warm mound of horse shit with unyielding force. Indeed an appropriate punishment.

The giantess nonchalantly kneaded him into the pile of feces with her heeled boot for nearly seven minutes. Pressing a little harder each time he struggled and managed to free himself from sinking further into the warm and noxious excrement - using her toe point to roll him backwards and forwards; side-to-side through the increasingly pungent and filthy mire. In fact, the only reason she eventually stopped was that the disgusting smell arising from the horse patty finally became strong enough so that even she could smell it at her great height. Once she took a whiff of the now mashed horse shit, she scrapped the underside of her boot on the empty ground (to remove any trace of pooh that might have collected there) and walked away without saying a single word. Her long strides carrying her quickly away from the exhausted little man who was still stuck within the heavy pile of horse manure; immobilized by the weight of it as his atrophied muscles were completely spent from the entire ordeal.

The little man would stay there, encased in the ever hardening patty as it baked under the blazing noon sun, until another tiny ranch hand luckily came across him several horse later. It was in that moment when our little ranch hand realized that this job was no longer for him. He put in his two weeks notice the next day.

Description

The tiny ranch hand found himself in a nasty predicament after being approached by one of the numerous giant equestrians milling around the property. Each of these customers paid exorbitant sums of money to ride their thoroughbreds on rural weekends getaways, far from their luxurious city lofts and upscale boutiques. The little ranch hand knew this and had grown tired of their extremely demanding and often arrogant behavior - especially among the female equestrians who seemed to spend more time parading around in their tight breeches and tall boots than actually riding horses. Traditionally, he didn't interact much with the visitors (as other little men were trained to wait on their personal needs at the ranch), but each occasion that brought him within close proximity to one of these snooty giants was an unpleasant one.

On this day, the little ranch hand was clearing the way from a graveled walkway. Part of his duties on the ranch involved making sure all visible thoroughfares were free of debris, small hazards, or anything that the giant visitors may deem unpleasant. Sometimes this meant taking his tiny shovel and lifting tons (from his perspective) of heavy horse shit from the middle of a path to behind a barrel or a patch of high grass; anywhere a giant would be unlikely to chance upon it. As he started to shovel away one rather large clump of horse dung, a tall giantess dressed in traditional equestrian attire approached him. However, the little man was feeling particularly spiteful on that particular day and chose not to even look up at her as she loomed over him; her presence having been announced by the dark shadow which now covered he and his entire workspace.

"Excuse me. . . little man. . . you there," she called expectantly.

He reluctantly dropped his shovel behind the horse shit and looked up at the towering trust-fund dilettante.

"I understand you have what passes for a delicatessen on this property. As I've been walking around for nearly twenty minutes and haven't happened across it; where might I find this eating establishment, little stable-boy?"

The funny thing is that the ranch hand can't even remember what exactly he said to her in reply. He was already in a bad mood and his temper was especially short. So, we can bet that whatever he said, it wasn't kind and it was probably downright rude. The first two rules of dealing with a giant is never to talk shit to them and to never turn your back on one while she is talking to you. Our protagonist violated both of these rules, and he immediately felt the bottom sole of the visitor's leather boot on his back as it slowly pressed him into the warm mound of horse shit with unyielding force. Indeed an appropriate punishment.

The giantess nonchalantly kneaded him into the pile of feces with her heeled boot for nearly seven minutes. Pressing a little harder each time he struggled and managed to free himself from sinking further into the warm and noxious excrement - using her toe point to roll him backwards and forwards; side-to-side through the increasingly pungent and filthy mire. In fact, the only reason she eventually stopped was that the disgusting smell arising from the horse patty finally became strong enough so that even she could smell it at her great height. Once she took a whiff of the now mashed horse shit, she scrapped the underside of her boot on the empty ground (to remove any trace of pooh that might have collected there) and walked away without saying a single word. Her long strides carrying her quickly away from the exhausted little man who was still stuck within the heavy pile of horse manure; immobilized by the weight of it as his atrophied muscles were completely spent from the entire ordeal.

The little man would stay there, encased in the ever hardening patty as it baked under the blazing noon sun, until another tiny ranch hand luckily came across him several horse later. It was in that moment when our little ranch hand realized that this job was no longer for him. He put in his two weeks notice the next day.