1 - Applejack's Work Ethic
You stamp your hoof and clear your throat. Applejack shakes her head.
"Wha- I’m terribly sorry, sugarcube, did you say something?"
"Just said hi, is all." You flick your tail innocently. ‘Hi’ was not exactly what you said, but it doesn’t really matter. Whatever Applejack believes, she heard you just fine.
"Oh, well, good mornin’ to you too." She rubs her eyes. “Terribly sorry, must be workin’ too hard. Speakin’ of, I really gotta…uhh…"
"Everything okay?" You feel a twitch between your legs as you revel in the brief glazed look that overcame the orange mare. It never fails to thrill you.
"Yeah, I just…" She shakes her head and stamps the ground. “Dagnabbit, I just don’t know what’s come over me today. I know I've got a ton of chores to do, but…"
"Can’t remember?" You feel your cock drop from its sheath, becoming firm beneath your belly. In any other circumstance, you’d try to keep yourself under control. But it’s far too late now.
Applejack nods absently. "Yeah. It’s strange, I know I’ve got work that needs doin’, but I just…" Her words soften and her eyelids droop as you stamp your hoof twice.
"Your job was to milk me, remember?" You speak clearly, making sure every syllable falls neatly into her receptive little head. “How silly of you to forget - it’s your favorite chore, after all."
"Favorite…chore." Applejack echoes, her voice hollow and gaze distant.
"You need to use your mouth, too. You’re addicted to my scent, and you want to taste me so badly." Your cock pulses, hungry for her warm, wanting tongue. The tongue that hangs just at the edge of her lip.
"Taste…scent. Use my mouth." She looks so stupid. You have half a mind to tell her, just to hear her agree. You stamp your hoof, and clear your throat.
"Applejack? You okay?" She shakes her head again, and meets your gaze with the same smile as before. Never fails.
"Oh, terribly sorry, sugarcube. Don’t know how I could’ve forgotten! Poor thing, those balls ‘a yours must be all full up." Applejack winks, licking her lips and eyeing your stiff erection. “And looks like you’re all ready to give."
Tossing her hat aside, she ducks beneath you and inhales through her nose. Her own scent, dirt and sweat, sends a shiver up your spine. Her pussy is drooling already.
Applejack growls, soft and low. “Guess I’d better get to work, then."
Her warm lips brush against your flare as she scoots under your belly. You grunt, slightly thrusting your hips and rubbing your stiff shaft against her snout.
“Easy there, boy. I’ve been waiting just as long as you have.” The tip of your cock passes her lips, muffling her eager groans as her slippery tongue tastes your sensitive flesh. You try your hardest not to buck your hips into that hot maw of hers. Applejack’s wants, needs, dreams and desires are blurred, all telling her to work your aching cock until she gets her warm, sticky reward. She wants to do her job, and you’re going to make her earn it.
"Mmm..." Applejack hums as her tongue explores your shaft. You lift your front leg and stroke the inside of her thigh. A small drop of warm liquid lands just above your hoof. The grin on your face as you press your leg against the country mare’s soft, moist slit is positively wicked. She squeals, and you push harder.
“Milking a stallion in broad daylight, in the middle of your own orchard...you must be so desperate, Applejack.” You tease as she sucks and laps and drools over you. She rubs herself against your leg, her mare juices dribbling and squirting over your fur. “What if your brother sees you? Or your little sister?”
Pulling her lips back across your flare, the fresh air cool against your saliva-coated cock, Applejack responds without hesitation: “Doesn’t matter. It’s my job. Gotta do my job.”
“Good girl. Didn’t tell you to stop.” You buck forward, and her eager mouth opens once more. Applejack’s marehood winks against your leg, little pulsing flexes exposing her clit to your fuzzy, wet ministrations. Your previous sessions have never gotten her quite so excited. Maybe, you wonder, she’ll start getting wet by simply being around you. Or maybe just by hearing your voice? You lower your snout to her buttocks and growl, taking a bit of her tightly muscled rump between your teeth.
Applejack bobs her head, her gibbering, droning noises muffled just enough by your cock. As she takes your shaft in her skilled muzzle, her outstretched tongue makes contact with your balls. She lingers just a moment, then pulls back. You rub her harder.
“You really need a good rutting, don’t you, Applejack?” Wiping your damp leg on her cutie mark, you drag your hoof just below her clit. “I know you have your job to do, but maybe I’ll bury myself back here instead. Waste all that hard work you’ve done to taste me and shoot off in your pretty little pussy. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
“Mmno!” She almost spits your cock out. Pushing you back, she looks you in the eye. Her mane is disheveled, and her mouth drips with what may be saliva. Nonetheless, the look she gives you is dead serious. “That ain’t how it works! I’m milkin’ you, meaning you’re gonna stand there like a good stallion and get milked. You gonna be a good stallion, or am I gonna have to restrain you?”
You’re a little tempted to request the restraints, but you’d rather get right back to it. “Fine, you win.”
“Darn tootin’.” Applejack ducks her sweaty form back underneath you again. “You ain’t cheating me out of a mouthful today.”
She engulfs your cock with renewed vigor. Her movements are quick, passionate - she seems to know you’re on the brink before you do. But then, you feel it. Your breaths get shallow as her licks get slower and slower, tracing up your shaft as you feel your long-awaited orgasm building deep within.
Then, from behind you, a deep voice shouts: “What the hell?”
You turn, startled. As your dripping cock pops out of a dissatisfied Applejack’s mouth, you see exactly what you were hoping to avoid.
“I expect there’s a damn good explanation for this.” Big Macintosh says, taking even steps towards the two of you. You almost wish he was charging. It’d be less scary.
“Dang it, Macintosh, can’t you see I’m busy?” Applejack spits, wiping her mouth with a hoof. She marches up to her brother, who recoils at the state of her.
“B-Big Macintosh, I swear, we were just-” Your words die as he snaps his gaze toward you.
“You shut your damn mouth, boy.” He snarls. He turns back to Applejack, meeting her hot temper with his own sheer bewilderment. “AJ, what’s the big idea here?”
Applejack huffs. “He’s gotta be milked today, Macintosh. You got a problem with me doin’ my chores?”
“How in Celestia’s-” Macintosh places a hoof to his lips and takes a deep breath. “How the heck does...foolin’ around with a stallion in broad daylight relate to chores?”
“‘Cause I gotta, how’s this not getting through your thick skull? I...” Her temper seems to give way, and the knot in your stomach twists hard. Applejack’s voice is soft and uncertain. “I can’t remember why, but it’s my job, okay?”
Big Mac’s mouth hangs open. He looks to the ground before slowly looking up at you. Your body wants to run, but you know that’d only make him mad. “Look, Big Macintosh, maybe it’s best if we just-”
“What did you do to her?” Macintosh says, the bass of his voice seeming to reverberate in your limbs. His eyes pierce you as he slowly approaches. He breathes hard through his nostrils. A stupid, desperate, foolish plan that would probably get you killed comes into your head. You try not to think about it as you take a nervous step back.
“Me?” You find your ability to feign innocence under pressure sadly lacking. “She, uh, she was like this when I-”
The wind leaves your lungs and your knees give out under you. What Macintosh gave you was barely a shove, yet the sharp throbbing in your breast definitely feels like a bruise. If that.
“I know magic when I see it, boy, now what did you do?” He towers over you. There’s a dull buzzing in your ears from how hard you’re breathing. No way out. Can’t tell him what you did, he’d beat you to a pulp. Can’t run, he’d beat you to a pulp. Can’t try to fight him, and you think that option sort of answers itself. You’re not even sure why you thought of that. Stupid, desperate and foolish suddenly doesn’t sound so bad.
You shut your eyes tight and pray that this works.
To be completely honest, you’ve never been able to explain it properly yourself. Since you began life anew as a strange, talking horse in a world full of strange, talking horses (suddenly and without any personal input, you might add), you’d picked up a few basics of pony society. One was that magic was real - it was tangible and even commonplace in everyday life. Another was that you were physically incapable of ever using it. So you were told, anyway. But if what you can do isn’t magic, you’re not quite sure what it is.
Concentrate, and somehow you can mentally sense the ponies around you. Concentrate harder, and those ponies spread into nebulas, vast networks of moods, memories, ideas and desires. One feels like a harness tugging at your neck while every muscle in your body begs you to quit. Another warms your belly with pride as you watch your little sister laughing and playing with her new friends. Yet another tastes like a cider-flavored kiss with your cousin, most details but his bashful laughter blurry and inconsistent.
Concentrate even harder, and you imagine the nebula collecting itself into a small ball beneath your shaking hoof. With all of the strength you can muster, you stamp your hoof in the dirt.
Cautiously, you open your eyes. Big Mac still stands over you, but no longer glares at you. His gaze drifts, lazily attempting to find a target through half-closed lids. You take a deep breath and try to stop your heart from beating so fast. It actually worked.
“You’re not angry with me.” You say, a cough quickly following your command as you attempt to rise to your hooves.
“...Not angry.” Mac slurs dreamily. You give him a tentative push against his chest, and he wobbles briefly. Can’t be too careful - you still get the occasional stinging migraines from when Twilight fought back. As you continue, however, he seems much more compliant for his first session than any of the others. Maybe he’s just more susceptible to your influence? Or maybe you’re getting better? You’re not sure.
“...Wake when you stamp your hoof again.” Macintosh echoes the last of your suggestions. You take a breath to steel yourself, and raise your hoof. If all else fails, you could at least put him in a trance again and make a break for it.
You stamp your hoof, and clear your throat. Both Big Mac and Applejack shake their heads. After a moment of silence, Macintosh takes a step towards you.
“Well, on your back, boy. Need t’get you milked, no sense wasting any more time.” With that soft-spoken command, the blood wastes no time rushing back to your nethers. You sit, and he eases you back. The hint of a smile on his lips says he likes what he sees. You can still barely believe it actually worked.
“Hey!” Applejack marches over and pokes Macintosh in his side. “I told you a thousand times, this here stallion’s my job, and I gotta be the one to milk him!”
Macintosh lifts his nose from your belly, arching his eyebrows at you before turning to his sister. “And I told you, you’re gonna be here all day. Milkin’ a stallion means pleasin’ a stallion. And I reckon I know what a stallion likes a bit more than you.”
“That so?” Applejack retorts, locking eyes with her brother. “Well then, I bet you wouldn’t mind if I helped out? You’re so good, I bet I wouldn’t interfere with your stallion pleasin’ ways in the slightest.”
Mac’s nose makes contact with the base of your shaft. “Long as you don’t kill the mood.” He mumbles. You lay your head back in the grass as his lips brush against your balls. All the bullet points hit.
Applejack settles herself just above your thick tip. She shoots Macintosh a smug look. “Comes outta this end, stallion expert.”
Her tongue dances around the rim of your flare. Macintosh scoffs, your balls resting on his nose as he inhales slowly. Applejack opens her lips wide and takes your flare in her mouth, her tongue dragging across its surface. A trickle of her drool crawls its way down your shaft. The way she’s working you, this won’t take very long at all.
“Love me the smell of a real stallion.” Macintosh mutters. You hear yourself suddenly gasp as another hot, slick tongue pushes just underneath your balls. Applejack continues her fast-paced assault, her saliva smacking against your pulsing member, but it’s Macintosh’s slow, steady laps up your taint that are very quickly draining your resistance.
His tongue reaches your balls. Your hips begin bucking into Applejack’s face all on their own as Macintosh rolls your pent-up sac over and under, sucking gently as he utters quiet noises of contentment. As he makes his way to the base of your cock, you wonder just how much longer you can hold out. If Macintosh notices that his sister’s drool is coating the cock he’s so patiently attending to, he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.
Your gutteral, rhythmic cries fill the air as his big tongue licks up, up, up. So close to Applejack’s bobbing lips. A thick hoof rubs against your taint. More and more. Applejack can barely keep up with your thrusts. So close. She pulls back, her eyes eager and lips just barely enveloping your flare. Macintosh just looks you in the eye and grins.
You cry out, and a hot rope of cum shoots across Applejack's tongue. She squeals, delighted, as you spurt again and again into her well-prepared mouth. Though the eager mare gulps as quickly as she can, your seed fills her cheeks, and a small white glob drips down your equine shaft. Gently, Macintosh licks it up.
Applejack gulps a few more times, ensuring that she tastes every last drop of your weakening spurts. Your flare pops out of her mouth. Her face is a mess, and as she pants, your seed drips down her tongue. In the silhouette of the midday sun, she looks gorgeous.
By the way Macintosh stares, he agrees. The stallion leans in and presses his lips against hers. Just over your still-drooling cock, brother and sister lap and moan into each other. When they part, a bridge of your cum still connects the two.
"Tastes so nice..." Applejack says, her face flush. She looks away from her brother, to the ground, struggling to regain her composure. "Thanks for the uh, help, Macintosh."
"Yup." He licks an errant bead from his grin. Though he seems as cool as ever, Macintosh’s own erection - dark brown with a small pink splotch near the tip, with a fearsome size even for this world’s standards - stands at attention. You’ll have to do something about that soon. For now though, you decide to let him suffer for just a little longer.
“Now he’s taken care of, you got any other work to do?” He drawls, rubbing an idle hoof over your cock. It gives you the shivers, and he smirks.
“Ain’t got the slightest idea.” Applejack sighs, lying beside you in the grass.
“Me neither.” Mac says, joining the two of you. His stallionhood arcs gracefully over his exposed belly. Just a little bit longer.
They’re warm. Soaked with sweat and thicker fluids. Pressing against you on either side, the stillness doesn’t last too long. You taste yourself on Macintosh’s lips, on Applejack’s damp chest fur. They smile as you caress, fondle and tease.They’re happy. Because of you, they’re happy.
Smiling, you close your eyes and shut out the vibrant blue sky. You’ll need to think of new jobs for them soon. After all, the day is young, and there’s so much left to be done.