In all your years on Earth, you’ve rarely strayed more than a few towns away from your precious ranch. In fact, you doubt you’ve ever even left the state.
Before you were even born, Grey Valley Orchards was run like a well-oiled machine. People worked under you that you didn’t even recognize, and you got the feeling that the place would keep on running just fine if you suddenly ceased to exist.You can’t remember the last time something new happened, or you met anyone interesting, or anything brought an ounce excitement to your boring little rural life. Even in your dating life, your money was a curse; all your potential lovers were only interested in you for your money, and were quickly driven away by your lifestyle after a few years. Thus, even in your ripe age, you lived alone in the same small cabin in the corner of the farm, languishing in mundanity.
Every generation adds some new novelty to the ranch. Your great grandfather, for example, bred the best racing horses in the country right here on the farm, and you still owned a few horses yourself for pulling plows, wrangling cattle on the wide-open fields, and occasionally just renting them out for riding. You’ve been trying to come up with some new enterprise to tackle yourself… and you think your answer has just fallen into your lap. Just a few weeks ago, when one of your clients rented a mare for a day-long session of riding, he never came back. You thought he just stole her, until a week later, the mare found her own way back to the farm, suddenly looking extremely pregnant. It didn’t take you long to figure out what had happened. Apparently, your client had intended to do more to the mare than take her for a simple ride, but bit off more than he could chew, and somehow ended up trapped in the poor gal’s womb! The look of humiliation on his face as you pulled him out was more than punishment enough, and you thought you could forget about the whole crazy event soon after.
Something was stuck on your mind, however. While researching ways to free the poor bastard, you stumbled upon all sorts of pictures of people inside horses’ wombs and bellies, and eventually you realize they were doing it on purpose. Apparently, for whatever reason, when it comes to horses, oxygen and stomach acid isn't a problem ‘in there’, so these perverted folks can embark on a different kind of ‘horse riding’ whenever they please, provided they have somebody else around to pull them out. You feel like you should be disgusted, but when you realized how passionate they were, all you could see was dollar signs. Some of these people - vorarephiles, they call themselves - were offering extravagant amounts of money to rent out a ‘special’ horse riding session for even a few hours. Your mind reels at the possibilities. Your farm boasted dozens of horses, of all shapes and sizes; imagine what sort of operation you could run! It was certainly a more interesting proposition than selling sunflower seeds, at least.
You scrolled through their forums on your laptop while curled up in your cozy bed late at night, amused and fascinated by their unorthodox passion. From what you could tell, it seemed genuinely harmless, and you were entertained by the things they came up with. Photos of a woman riding her prized shire mare around while her husband naps inside its womb... a video of a ‘sheriff’ using a stallion’s belly as a makeshift prison for an infamous ‘bandit’... the more you browsed, the more it just seemed… fun! As you finally slide your laptop to the side and lay back in bed, your mind continues buzzing with all the possibilities. You have definitely come to decide that this is a niche you want to get in on. Exploring, and cornering the market of, something so new and obscure would definitely break up the monotony of your daily life…
But first thing's first... what's your name?
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