Merely a Male Mare

by Pandora

Rating: mature
Tags: Slice of Life, Human, Romance
Length: 5353

One human's story of being lustfully lost in Equestria

Woah Nelly… the hot, steamy, sexy, perverted, intimate, fluid-filled lustfully crafted story of a human lost in Equestria, and lost in the hooves of multiple members and almost-members of the Apple family.

Enjoy, you perverts.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-03-08 15:22:12 UTC

Merely a Male Mare

    I scratched my scraggly beard thoughtfully as the cheers and talking echoed across the paddock where they were keeping me and the other... undesirables. I grimaced, that was the wrong word. Where they were keeping the adult non-citizens.

    My arrival in Ponyville was still a mess of confused half-images and forgotten dreams, but I was getting used to the pastel-coloured world I seemed to be stuck in. Mostly. Every so often the civilisation here threw me for a loop. I squared my shoulders and tried again. I wandered across the paddock towards the two ponies who were guarding the only entrance and exit to the fenced-off area where myself and around ten ponies were being kept waiting until their... I guess you could call it ‘owners’ showed up to claim them. As I approached, the larger of the two spun around and snorted, stamping a forehoof. Even at four foot high, she was a creature to be wary of.

    “Back on the other side, colt, you’ve no business in Ponyville unaccompanied.”

    “No, see, there’s... been a mistake.”

    “No mistake, Big Mac himself led you here and left you. That means you,” and the tan pony poked me with a hoof in the ribs, winding me, “stay here. Preferably there.”

    The pony pointed, and half-charged, causing me to jump backwards. She snorted derisively as I stumbled. I scowled again but left with my metaphorical tail between my legs. That’s another thing which surprised me about this place; all ponies, all the time. I was the only sentient non-pony, if you didn’t count the odd fantasy critter here or there. A dragon, a griffon... no humans, except me.

    I slunk back to the shady tree and leaned against it.

    “Didn’t work this time too, huh?” asked a voice. It was another juvenile pony. I was getting used to recognizing them now. It helped they mostly had unique marks on their butts.

    “Hey Caramel,” I said, smiling as he head-butted me gently in the side, “who’re you here with?”

    “Big Mac and Apple Jack.”

    “Yeah? Haven’t see you ‘round the farm, though they do kinda work me hard.  I can’t buck apples like they can with these scrawny things,” I thumped my legs with a fist, “but I can do other stuff it’d otherwise cost them the services of a unicorn to pull off.”

    “Like ear-scritching.”

    “Like that.”

    The pony head-butted me again, “I said, like ear-scritching.” he nipped me, I yelped and winced, snaking out a hand to scratch him behind his ear at his order. He was an earth-pony, they were strong when they wanted to be. I shivered, they were strong and knew what they wanted. They usually got it, too.

    Caramel sighed happily, flicking his tail, “I can see why they keep you ‘round.”

    “It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

    “Don’t give me that, human.”

    “Bob, short for Robert. Is it that hard to remember my name?”

    Caramel snorted, “Like I have to remember your name, everyone knows who you are.”

    “I... I don’t think I like that tone.”

    Caramel snorted and bit me, “I don’t rightly think you got much of a choice, Bob.”

    “Neither do you, Car. You’re stuck here with me.”

    “T’ain’t how it works. You are stuck here with me, and I’m bored. Those two fillies over there... you know what time of year it is, Bob?”

    “Summer?”

    “You know what happens in the summer?”

    “Yeah,” I scratched my head, then continued scratching the insistent earth pony when he nipped me again, “some sort of summer celebration...”

    “Not the party, dufus. The mares. They’re all... ready, at least for a stallion.”

    “And poor Caramel hasn’t got one, and he’s stuck in here... with...”

    “That’s right,” Caramel bit me on the ass again, I staggered and fell, clutching my backside.

    “Woah, woah, wait... I’m not...”

    “Bob, I’m only going to ask you this a few times before I get mad... but if you were a filly I’d be asking you nicely to raise that purty tail of yours. Seein’ as you ain’t, I’m jus’ gonna tell you ta get into position.”

    “I don’t... we can’t...”

    Caramel idly kicked me with a hoof, I doubled up, winded. He leaned in close, “I said don’t give me that. I can smell him on you, human. He came last night, didn’t he?”

    “Wh-”

    A hoof.

    “You think I don’t know what Big Mac smells like? He gets around, does that Big Mac, and he’s taken a shine to you, his latest male mare... though it ain’t letters what’s gettin’ delivered, and t’ain’t you what’s deliverin’ ‘em, am I right? Now get up, human, and assume the position. I know Big Mac’s taught you what to do... I’ll be right gentle...”

    I whimpered, “Right here?”

    “Right now.”

    The pony was serious... could he really smell that stallion on me? It’d started gently enough... The Apple family had me sleeping in the barn, said they didn’t have a room for me. I took what I could get, a lone monster in an otherwise cold, heartless world. he hadn’t come the first few nights... but on one rainy night, the red stallion had clopped into the barn and opened the door with his teeth. The heavy, musky weight had pressed down into the straw next to me in the darkness, pinning my slender frame to the floor. Since that night, he’d got more insistent, until finally his voice, low in the silence, had rung out.

    “You can touch me, you know... I like it when ya touch me.”

    I’d stammered, hesitated, but he’d just rolled over and his erection had flopped across my chest.

    “I ain’t gotta say much, human, and you’ll be gone...” he’d said, quietly. I’d gulped, he had me by the metaphorical balls.

    I’d reached a hand out. I’d expected it to be slimy and disgusting, but it wasn’t. Mac looked after himself, though I didn’t know how. They barely let me in the house except at certain mealtimes. I washed in cold water from the well, I only had the one set of clothes. I stank. Come to think of it, the ponies smelled too... but not bad. Maybe I was getting used to it. I didn’t have much choice.

    “Y’all can touch it... T’ain’t gonna bite. I might though.”

    I’d reached out a hand, two hands. I took a hold of his penis. It was heavy, weighty. Gingerly at first, I ran my fingers up and down the solid, warm length. I gripped it, caressed it, cuddled it up against my body. He was surprisingly gentle, for all his veiled threats. His release had been sudden, grunting, his tail slapping me in the face as the hot sticky liquid spurted onto my chest. He’d licked my face, then kissed me, tenderly I guessed though for me it was rough and almost painful. His tongue, tasting of hay and apples, forced itself into my jaw. Pony saliva filled my mouth and covered my head. Then we’d laid there in the darkness as he snoozed for an hour or two, his seed cooling on my body, and I’d ran my fingers through his silken mane and coarse coat. It was the dawn chorus before the sunrise that led him out into the misty morning. I’d washed up as best as I could, but I’d had to go shirtless for that day since it was stiff and unusable with it’s fresh coating of ponycum, until I’d got it washed and dried.

    Back in the real world, I unbuckled my pants and let them fall to the floor. Caramel bit my underpants and pulled. A momentary pain and the elastic snapped. He threw them in a heap and buried his muzzle in my buttocks.

    “Mmmm, yes, I can smell Big Mac all over you. Everypony can. Didn’t you know that? I know, AJ knows. Those two... filly-foolers over there know.”

    I blanched. I went into town whenever I could... I’d guessed that the other ponies had just warmed up to me, that they’d been informed where I was staying. Now every stray “give my regards to Big Mac” struck home. It was rarely Apple Jack, though I knew she was at least as well liked as her red older brother, if not moreso.

    “That’s right, human, you’re his mare of the moment. And now... you’re gonna be mine.”

    Big Mac hadn’t come every night, but I found myself slowly looking forwards to it. He was the strong, silent type, and the nights could grow cold, even in midsummer. One night, as I’d been working him up softly with my mouth, he had me stop.

    “Get up,” he said, “and lean against the door.”

    I wondered if I’d done something wrong. He’d snorted and pulled my legs back from the door, knocking a hoof between them to widen my stance. Then he’d put his head between my cheeks and sniffed long and hard. I could hear in the darkness how he’d thrown back his head, snorting. Horses in my world had done that, when they found something they really liked the smell of. I trembled. He bit and nudged me with his teeth and muzzle, his head snaking between my thighs as he coated my legs, crack and puckered anus with saliva. His tongue forced it’s way painfully in through the tight ring of muscled, widening it further than I’d thought possible. Only once he was happy did it withdraw. I whimpered, it soon became apparent he’d wanted my butt sticking out. I arched my back, but the breath was still knocked from my body when the stallion mounted. His forehooves kicked in the air, I felt them digging against my ribs but these ponies were surprisingly soft. It wouldn’t leave a mark - not one that could be seen, anyhow.

    He’d walked himself forwards on his hind legs, his teeth had fastened around my hair, conveniently perhaps tied back in the ponytail I’d forgotten to remove that night. He pulled, and at the same time I felt the tip of his huge shaft brush up against my anus. He was going to...

    I grit my teeth, it hurt when he pushed himself in, despite the tonguing he’d given. He’d snorted, bucking those strong hips of his as he’d gripped my tight like any mare with those powerful forehooves and eased his cock in inch by inch. The hot, thick rod had rammed home eventually, Big Mac stopping with a shudder as he hilted, his sheath up against my buttocks. He’d put his great head next to mine and whispered, “I’ve been waitin’ fer this night... first of many.”

    Then he’d begun to slide his shaft in and out in long, slow strokes, sucking and thrusting, until his precum coated my inner sanctum and the mutual juices eased it’s passage. He built up his pace, quiet whinnies and foggy snorts of hot breath coating my hair as he whispered softly in my ears about how good a mare I was. He’d grown hard, harder than ever, until I was all but lifted from the ground as he ploughed into me, and then he’d came, a hot torrent of ponycum that hosed my insides and spurted out around his magnificent cock to rain down amongst my now-sticky bedding of straw. He’d rested against me, what felt like a tonne of muscle and fur, and the most sensuously soft, intimate embrace I’d ever received. I looked down at my hands, pale in the moonlight, in disbelief. They were coated with my own seed, my own cock throbbing and aching with the release. I raised them slowly, sticky and wet, to his muzzle, and I’d pulled his great head in for a soft kiss. He’d returned it and, gently, withdrawn and left.

    Caramel’s hot breath on my rear brought me back to the present, again. He shuffled his forehooves in agitation and bit at my buttocks. I winced. Big Mac had always nipped lightly, for all his size he was a gentle giant. Caramel, a pony I thought I knew well, was impatient, randy, and domineering. I knew what he wanted.

    The sun was hot on my ass cheeks as I spread my legs. I’d learned not to piss off a pony, not even in jest, when the lightest of horse-play from Apple Jack had bruised my ribs. Caramel snorted repeatedly, throwing his head back and curling his upper lip. I could hear his cock slap at his underbelly, he was fully erect already and raring to go. The breath was knocked from my lungs as his weight plunged down onto my back. He’d not been with many mares, I could tell. It would have made me laugh if he hadn’t decided to make me the first of them. I spread my legs, I couldn’t fight back, no way. Where was I to go? If I left the paddock... I shuddered to think.

    “Easy boy,” I said to him, “take it slow.”

    “Quiet mare,” he said, biting my neck and shoulder, “you just lift that tail, spread those legs, Caramel wants some...”

    “Car, Car, easy, eas-oohhhhh my gosh!”

    Caramel was smaller than Big Mac. Like so much else in this strange land, Big Mac was every bit his namesake. Over our nights together, the torrid mounting had become passionate love-making. He was a pony, it was true; large, powerful, strong... but also gentle and kind, despite his underhanded tactics and blackmail. Maybe I’d gone mad, maybe being the sex-toy of a talking stallion just negated common sense, but I found I liked him, us. Neigh, I loved him. I had grown... accustomed to his length and girth. It still hurt at first, but now... now the feeling of his urgent penetration sent new, powerful feelings surging through my body. I rode his cock as he speared it in to me, living for the nights when he would take me in his hooves and make me his own. We’d even made love face-to-face, though it was awkward and we spent a good deal of the experience laughing and fumbling. I’d learnt to take my clothes off and sleep naked - a few awkward days ploughing naked as my clothes were washed of the scent of our copulating, not to mention bodily fluids, had taught me. He let me sleep in, some days, stealing a quick kiss as he brought breakfast - oat and apple porridge was surprisingly tasty.

    But Caramel... I moaned.

    “Oh, you like that, filly? You like that? Daddy like.”

    I laughed despite myself, fumbling with a hand behind me to help guide his cock into my male love-cave, “Slowly, slowly... feel the mare beneath you, it’s okay, I’m yours, Caramel, take me, make me yours, just slow down, easily... in and out...”

    I coaxed him, goaded him, guided him, and the horny, musth-crazed eased up. His cock was thinner, flatter at the tip, wider, than Big Mac’s. i still dripped with the elder stallion’s seed, so my new mate slid smoothly in to his male mare. I was sweating now, trembling, despite the muscular workout I got most nights with my red lover. Caramel was gasping, his taught cock thrusting wildly in and out, jerking, spasming, slick with Big Mac’s dripping seed and his own copious amounts of precum. I felt Caramel’s hooves, thinner, daintier, fasten around my ribs as his shapely head pushed itself against my cheeks. He kissed me, then, hard and needily. He talked as he fucked me, his powerful cock riding my insides deep and long, whispering how good a mare I was, how sweet, how wet, how perfect. I goaded him on, encouraged him. I spoke of his mane and tail, silky smooth and soft against my bare skin, his coat, his musky male scent, his body, pawing against mine in wild abandon. I kissed his cheeks, his lips, his tongue, bit his ear, widened my stance to let him fuck his mare as deep as he wished, until his tail flagged almost straight up and for the second time that day a torrent of ponycum spewed into my body, out of my clenching anus and spilled onto the ground.

    My young stud slumped, breathing hard. Truth be told, I wasn’t in much better shape, but I held him there as he recovered and basked in the hormonal afterglow. I kissed him, congratulated him - my own deposit of seed joining his. After an eternity spent with the equine hugging me to his body - he almost sobbing, so sweet despite his demeanour earlier - he shuffled backwards. Another gush of cum left my body as his now-flaccid ponycock flopped freely between his legs. It withdrew into his sheath. I felt jealous. I’d not be able to hide my manhood, nor my new status as pseudo-broodmare, since my underpants had been destroyed and my pants... were currently in need of a wash. They’d been between my legs, around my ankles.

    I was still laughing to myself when a shadow fell across my body. I looked up, it was Big Mac. I sprung up, back against the tree, “I can explain... I was... he...”

    “Y’all enjoy him, Caramel?” Big Mac asked, eyes never leaving my face.

    “Yessir, Big Mac, he was jes’ right.”

    “Good. Feel like catching the last of the party?”

    “I... yessir, Big Mac.”

    “Good. Off ya go now, Caramel.”

    I watched, dumbfounded, as a renewed Caramel trotted between the guards. They looked at him, once, but he snorted and slapped them with his tail. They let him pass. My jaw almost hit the ground.

    “Ar’ Caramel ain’t no beta stallion no more, mare,” said Big Mac, looking at the retreating form of the light brown stallion, before turning back to me, “he jus’ needed a little... push. Come on, you’re with me. You leave them duds where ya found ‘em, you dun need ‘em. Sides, I might feel a little frisky.”

    His tail slapped me on my buttocks as I stood there, rooted to the spot. His one glance back as he started clip-clopping away told me I’d better follow him if I expected to see anything of this midsummer festival. I wouldn’t be let out of the beta paddock alone, yet.

Nudge Nudge, Wink Wink

I shivered slightly in the chill night air. The straw for my bed needed changing; hopefully I could persuade Big Mac that his male mare needed something a big warmer and drier to sleep on. With the rains that the autumn brought and Big Mac visiting almost every night, it was getting rather sodden and down-trodden.

I sniffed it. It smelled of him; my body smelled of him, my clothes smelled of him. Big Mac exuded a powerful musk that spoke of strong muscles, a sleek body, honest sweat. It spoke to me, surrounded me, filled my senses. As I grew hard between my legs thinking of my four-hoofed lover I realised how much things had changed since my strange, all but unexplainable trip to this strange, pony-filled world.

We had rutted in the park that day when he had finally led me out of the paddock for the adult non-citizens, the beta mares and stallions. I don’t know if it was Caramel’s seed dripping between my legs or the general melange of scents filling the air - scents of other males, mares in heat - but our slow walk with me following my master had turned into his nudging my backside with his large, red muzzle. Eventually he had whickered and snorted, biting my buttocks causing me to yelp. I had all but frozen to the spot at the nip. When Big Mac wants something, he usually gets it. This time, he had wanted me. Rooted to the ground, he had trotted around and around his prize, tail held high, before moving in for the proverbial kill. His blunt wedge of a head had forced itself between my buttocks and moments later he’d thrown back his head in a long appreciative snort before gently but firmly pushing me into a semi-crouch with his jaw and bucking onto my back.

The air was knocked from my lungs and I stumbled, but caught myself. Moments later his already-turgid cock slid easily between my thighs and into my much-stretched anus. I had gasped, partly in surprise and a touch of pain, mostly with lust. His comforting weight upon my back, thick, throbbing shaft buried deep into my bowels, I knew my place. His mare, one of them at least. As he knew me, there in the park, in full view of Ponyville and its citizens, I realized how happy it made me to be the toy of so strong and powerful a stallion. As his hips pumped and he emptied his seed to spatter once more upon the ground and mingle with my own, it struck me that whether I was suffering some syndrome of the imprisoned or not didn’t matter. I was treated well, fed, housed... and loved. the love was physical, primal, animal. The love was needy and torrid, taken when desired and raw, without compromise or complicated rituals... but I could not ignore my own body’s response, nor the feelings I had for this magnificent creature of power and drive.

I fantasized about the stallion by day as much as I lay with him at night. I would run my fingers over his stallionhood, squeeze his huge, meaty balls and kiss all over his fur-covered body. I licked and sucked and fondled when my master desired, bringing him to whinnying orgasm even without his mounting, and stroked and held him until his trembling stopped. Sometimes he cried, and I kissed his tears. I know not why my brave, strong stallion’s face was wet with sorrow, but I held him until it passed.

He truly was a stallion of few words, but what words he spoke, he meant. Sometimes he spoke without words, and that message was the most powerful of all. It was why I lay in the dark and waited with all my heart.

It was with some surprise, then, that the clopping footsteps that echoed through the barn sounded... different to my ears, unfamiliar. I sniffed the air - I was no pony, with large ears, eyes and nostrils, but I had learnt to tell the difference between many of the citizens in ways different to mere speech.

“Applejack?” I called out. The footsteps stopped, and then continued.

“Ah, er, came to see... how you were doin’.” replied the orange cowpony with the blond mane and tail. Her hat squarely upon her head. She flicked her tail and ears nervously.

“I’m... fine. It’s a little cold out here now, mistress Applejack... if you could... could find your way to, perhaps, giving me more straw to sleep on I would surely appreciate it.”

“Yer cold?” she clip-clopped closer, past me as I stood with my head inclined on the floor in respect, to look at my makeshift bed. Her tail was held high, it brushed my side and under my chin. I shivered, turning my head towards it and taking a surreptitious sniff.

“If yer cold, ya should’a said. Cain’t have our Big Mac’s... pet... gettin’ ill now, can we?”

I shivered again. I didn’t speak much with mistress Applejack. I hadn’t thought she’d liked me all that much. I guess it was the two legs and fingers thing that did it.

“I-I’m sorry, mistress Applejack-” I began.

“Jes call me Applejack, human, ain’t no need to make a mountain outta no molehill.”

“Applejack,” I inclined my head. She stood there, blinking in the soft light from the stars and moon.

“Yer sorry what?”

“I... er... I’m sorry I didn’t say I was cold.”

Applejack trotted closer, hesitantly. Truth be told, I was trembling too. She nuzzled my side. It almost knocked the breath from me as I hadn’t been expecting it. The next thing I knew, she had closed her eyes and was rubbing her flanks against me.

“Mistress Applejack!” I squeaked.

She snorted and stomped lightly on a foot, “Din’t I tell ya ta knock off the mistress? What’s the matter, human? Y’all a colt cuddler? Ain’t yer bread buttered this side none?”

“I... I... you want me?”

“Ah’m a simple mare, human, but I ain’t stupid. You’re a colt, if’n you ain’t no stallion. I know my brother ain’t gelded yew yet so how’s about you show me how it works with you monsters?”

I shuddered and reached out a hand. Lightly at first, but gaining confidence, I stroked the mare. I knelt down and very gently took hold of her muzzle in my hands and brought her lips to mine. We french-kissed. I don’t know if ponies call it that, but our tongues met and danced, sliding over each other and fighting for dominance. With her grassy, thick muzzle, she won, and I minded not one bit. We broke the kiss, gasping for air, before I moved back in and kissed up her cheeks, feeling her strong powerful bones beneath her furry skin. I bit her ear gently, snorting and breathing in it like Big Mac did to me, before carrying on down her mane, nuzzling and snorting and kneading with my teeth and hands, rubbing my face against her. She snorted now, shuffling her hooves, tail rising. I took my time, a woman should be loved slowly and majestically, her body set on fire by a million points of pleasure and pain. A mare, it seemed, was no different - just more physical. I bit, I pinched, I licked, I ran my fingers through her coat and - hesitantly at first - under her belly. As I made love to her flanks with my chest and arms, one hand ever so gently reached under to massage her teats. She spread her hind legs and whickered low, eyes closed and head thrust forward. Her tongue lolled out and her tail all but flipped up over her back it was held so high.

I kissed her buttocks, still massaging gently like a suckling foal would, and moved to her nether lips. I snuffled like a stallion at her anus and brushed it ever so lightly with my nose before moving on down. Her mound, larger by far than a human female, nevertheless looked very familiar in many ways. I kissed around the outside of her labia, grasping it between my teeth and biting just so until she squealed. I licked her clitoris, kissing and kneading it, rubbing my face up against it.

She smelled of freshly mown grass, hay and - maybe unsurprisingly - apples. She whickered and whinnied and spread her legs, lowering her backside. A stream of hot, pungent liquid struck me in the face and dribbled down my chin. She whuffled - a low, long noise, borne of need and lust, and she winked. I rejoiced, whatever else, I was certain of one thing. This mare wanted me; I was to be her stallion this night. My tongue, hot and wet, flicked out to taste her equine juices.

She shuddered and squealed, so ready to submit. I mounted her then, without fanfare, rising to my feet and flicking her bountiful tail over my shoulder. I slid my hard, throbbing, aching cock into her pussy. She winked again, the motion pulling me ever deeper. I thrust against that suction, that clamping down of her inner muscles upon my man meat and withdrew in long, slow strokes and then reversed the motion, pushing back in, claiming her as my own. She shook and squealed and bucked her hips as I ploughed her furrow, our bodies moving as one, entwining limbs as we mated. I lay upon her back, small delicate thrusting motions, pushing against her clitoris, biting her mane and stroking and grabbing at the same time.

A stallion would have his forelegs tight around the barrel of her chest. I had one arm under her front hoof and the other twisted in a solid grip upon her golden locks. I pulled, hard, and thrust. She neighed loudly, and a sudden spurt of juices flooded down my crotch. As she came, in torrents, so too did I. I buried my shaft deep within her velvety recesses and emptied my seed into her womb, crying out in ecstasy as I did so.

I don’t know how long we were there, basking in the afterglow of our torrid sex session, but the heavy clip-clops of a stallion stomping across the barn made Applejack tense up.

“So this is where mah sister bin done got to, huh?” asked Big Mac.

“I kin explain, big brother...” she started.

“Hush now, sis, you don’t need to say nothin’ to me... I know what y’all been up to.”

The large red stallion dropped his head to the puddle on the floor and sniffed it, “He been good to you, huh?”

“Ya ain’t got no right ta-”

“Ya bin sneakin’ out, AJ, I dun like that...”

“Wouldn’t hafta sneak if-”

“I think you durn forgot what a real stallion is like...” in a flash, Big Mac was upon the pair of us, gripping, kicking, snorting. He fastened his teeth upon my shoulder, bit down hard. I wailed, it hurt. It was then that I felt his engorged member sliding between my legs... and into Applejack. “I think you been missin’ a real ruttin’, sis... like we used ta have.”

“No, Big Mac... no... don’t...” she whimpered, shuddering in orgasm as the thick length penetrated past her lips.

“Oh come now, lil sister... you know I know how you like it...”

Applejack bit her lip, I could hear her groaning, feel her start to buck. The huge cock, thick and warm, velvet-soft yet hard as a rock, squeezed inexorably into the mare I was still buried to the hilt in. A new wave of juices washed down my legs as I felt my cock once more growing hard. I bucked too, rubbing myself against my master’s great tool. I whined, whinnied even, seeing stars as his crushing weight was brought to bear.

“N-n-no, Big Mac,” panted Applejack, “I cain’t... not another... not another... Applebloom!” she shuddered, I felt her tail lift as she lowered her hips once again, submissively.

“Aww sis, we might get a li’l brother fer Applebloom, wouldn’t that be nice? A colt to help around the farm? growin’ safe an’ sound in his own sister?”

Applejack shuddered, lost now to the thrusting thirsty rod plunging in and out of her tight pussy. Presently she came again, swearing and cussing under her breath but biting her lip and all but incomprehensible. It was then that Big Mac withdrew, and - angling higher - slid into his male mare’s waiting mancunt once more. I shot a new load into the mare beneath me as the stallion upon me flooded my bowels with his seed.

I was all but unconscious and gasping for breath as Big Mac withdrew, his huge member flopping down to almost slap upon the floor.

“Bend over and push, human,” said Applejack, “y’all gonna hafta git them thar li’l Big Mac’s out if’n you wanna come in.”

“I...” I began.

“Quiet.” said Applejack, “Ah can’t have the family pet freezin’ all alone out here of a night. Y’all gonna catch cold and then where will ya be?”

“Sis...” began Big Mac

“Don’t you sis me, Big Macintosh. The next time you wanna fuck your sister y’all gonna ask first, don’t care how much I like it like that. I ain’t gonna have another Applebloom, so that means y’all gonna share your pet. He’ll be sleepin’ in mah bed when I got a need o’ him. Y’all can have him the rest of the time.”

I smirked in the darkness as I followed my new mistress into the house, with my master, spent but happy, following behind. Sometimes I wondered who wore the pony pants in this crazy family, maybe I'd just found out.