Fall of Equestria: Bruised Apples

Mac stirred in his seat, placed between his sister and Gunne, with his nose buried in a magazine. The book was a catalog for some company called “Mare Breakers” and contained images of restraints and intense looking bondage devices, things that didn’t really catch his interest in the slightest, but with the predicament he was in he would take any chance he could to ignore his surroundings. How the voices of the other train car passengers could drown out the sound of the wheels going down the track was beyond him, but somehow they managed it with their unending grunts, groans, and screams. Is there no place these guys won’t fuck? Mac thought while glancing around at his fellow passengers.

The train had been altered considerably to accommodate the wants of the males, the most obvious of which were the ceiling shackles that dangled from above. The chains were adjustable, to allow for a mare to be suspended or brought down to sit in their master's lap for ease of use. They came with a small storage compartment to put them away when not being utilized, so Mac didn’t have to sit there with a set dangling above him for the whole trip, but that didn’t mean much when the he could hear the rattling of chains from across the aisle as a stallion pounded his dick into a black collar pegasus, the mare trying and failing to escape the firm grasp of her rapist.

The seats were spaced further apart which allowed one to have a mare kneel before them. Metal rings had been installed as well, to be attached to a mare's collar or shackle, along with a large metal phallus sticking right out of the floor. At one point Mac put his hoof against the decent size pole to test a theory he had about it, and sure enough it was vibrating something fierce, perhaps doing so under the force of the train’s motion alone. He normally wouldn't have bothered to test it, but he noticed that some of the other rods were moving up and down in the floor at a furious pace, which he took a guess were somehow linked to the side rods of the wheels or some other moving part of the train, and he wanted to know if the one before him had a similarly sinister gimmick.

He was surrounded by all the things that he had been doing his best to avoid on the farm. So when he was offered something to distract him by one of the uniformed stewardesses, if one could call the bits of cloth that covered their shoulders and the mini skirts so small that they were just strips of cloth around their waists a uniform, he jumped on the chance despite the magazine’s contents. He had refused her initial offer to provide her body for his pleasure for the duration of the ride; if there was one thing he didn’t need, it was some red collar he had never met before all over him while AJ sat right beside him.

“How are you holding up?” Gunne asked as he watched Mac stare blankly at a page featuring a variety of cages, from the cramped and uncomfortable to comparatively spacious ones with plush inner linings. Mac had only stopped there because it was devoid of any mares.

“I-I’m fine,” said Mac, the slight tremor in his voice telling otherwise, “Need to stay focused is all. Won’t let any of this get to me. By the way, thanks again for coming.”

“Not at all,” Gunne said, a measure of courtesy evident in his voice, “Ponyville has been running fairly smooth for some time now, and I have no problem helping a friend in need.” Mac didn’t reply to the caribou. Friend was still too strong a word to call their relationship with one another, but he was glad that Gunne had tagged along. His presence was making this whole ordeal that much more tolerable.

For starters it was Gunne that made it possible for Applejack to be allowed her own seat. The company that owned the train had a strict policy that slaves had to be kneeling on the floor, chained on the ceiling, or stored in either the cargo car or the overhead compartments, but Gunne made quick use of his authority as magistrate of Ponyville to allow Mac just the slightest bit of comfort. He had also been the one to suggest a way to allow AJ to take this trip without Mac being beset with requests to stick their dicks in her, to which the stallion was surprised she agreed to with little coaxing.

Turning the page in his magazine, leaving the safety of the page he stayed on so long, Mac instantly regretted his choice when he saw what was on the next page. It featured several of the companies’ products, like boots that were suppose to help a mare learn to crawl, and pills that caused sexual effects that the stallion didn’t care to read about. But it wasn’t the items themselves that bothered him, but the image of Applejack modeling them. She was, of course, completely nude aside for a set of bracelet on her ankles and wrist and a pair of the belted boots he saw before. One of the Flimflam brothers was right aside her with her tail in hand lifted high up to expose her flank to the camera, having gotten her to bend over to touch her hooves somehow, while he pressed a stun rod into her rear passage. The pain on her face as she looked back to the camera left no doubt in his that the rod was active. He resolved that if he saw either of those unicorn brothers again, they would be experiencing something equally painful.

Mac crumpled the magazine and tossed it aside, then with his thoughts on his sister shifted his eyes over to her to make sure she was still okay in her current predicament. Gunne himself had locked several objects onto Applejack before they made their way to the station. AJ had accepted each one with the same amount of indignance as she usually bore towards the stag, but their effectiveness was undeniable so far. Mac’s gaze went from her legs up, stopping first on a device fastened around her hips that went in between her legs to cover her crotch.

When Gunne had presented it to Mac, he tried to explain its purpose as he thought the stallion would have no clue what it was. However, even Mac wasn’t so disassociated with the world outside his farm to not recognize a chastity belt when he saw one. It was an odd name for the device though, as there was nothing ‘chaste’ about how males used the form fitting metal device when they blocked off all access to a mare’s privates only so they couldn’t get at a vibrator or something more dastardly as it rattled or slithered around inside them. Just another method to drive a mare into the throes of lust when it came down to it. Gunne suggested that they use it for its originally intended purpose when he had brought it out, but also brought forth the idea that giving AJ a plug or a dildo along with it would make males less suspicious. After all the farm mare had gone through both the ponies immediately refused the dildo, but gladly accepted the belt.

Mac looked up from the belt after he was certain that it was still secure, and next examined a leather muzzle mask that covered the lower portion of his sister’s face. This made her mouth completely unaccessible, just as the chastity belt did with her nethers, to keep stallions from thinking they could get her to give out blow jobs on demand. It had another benefit that Mac would never admit out loud; as long as it was on AJ wouldn't argue with with Gunne, and say something that she'd have to apologize for afterwards in some humiliating fashion.

If those two restraints weren’t enough to deter horny guys from asking for her sexual services, Gunne had hooked a small dry-erase board to the ring of Applejack’s collar explaining that she was off limits to make sure she would be well rested for the competition in Appaloosa. Not only was that a final “no” to anyone who couldn’t take the hint, it served as an advertisement to watch her perform. The more people that showed up, the more their efforts would count towards getting that red collar.

Mac placed his hand on AJ’s, squeezing it slightly to get her attention, the mare looking out a window to keep her mind off of all the atrocities going on around her. “We’re almost there,” he said reassuredly, perhaps more for himself than AJ since he really didn’t know how much longer it was going to be.

While the mask hid most of her facial expressions, her eyes told him that behind the leather she was giving him an unsure smile. This was a big step in so many ways; AJ would become what she hated the most, at least outwardly, but in return for her feigned obedience things would become easier for her. How much easier they didn’t know, but with what Gunne and Mr. Cake had told them they were hoping for the best while expecting the worst.

“Attention all passengers,” announced one of the few stewardesses that wasn't bent over by a passenger, “We will be pulling into the Appaloosa station in a few minutes. We ask you to finish any activities at your earliest convenience and return all mares or other females to a secured position.”

A heavy exhale could be heard from behind Applejack’s gag, joining with Mac’s own. Despite their willingness to do what they had to, they both knew that it was not going to be pleasant. Nonetheless, when the train stopped and Gunne got up from his seat to head for the exit they were right behind him, heading reluctantly to what awaited them outside of the car.

Mac stood outside of the station, holding a heavy duffle bag in one hand and his face in the other. He didn’t know why any of this still got to him, but perhaps it was his good nature giving him reminders that the world had become something terrible. As he looked through the cracks of his fingers, he could see past the obscuring digits what the caribou had done to the city.

He had never seen what Appaloosa had been like before, but he could tell that it had been hit worse than his hometown. While Ponyville had a few additions to it, such as the bordello, the animal farm, and an overall sexualization of anything and everything that had once been part of the small community, Appaloosa was slathered with depravity in ways that could only compare to his short visit to Canterlot during his incarceration. The rustic town, constructed from scratch by many of his kinfolk, had been transformed into one of the sleaziest and most depraved holes in Equestria.

The local businesses were all of proudly endorsing their own unique changes to what would’ve once been respectable establishments. What Mac assumed was once a simple saloon had become a whore house like the one Pinkie Pie ran, but much more elaborate in its presentation with large signs exclaiming the low prices and high quality of the mares they had. The signs were being waved around by mechanisms that were powered by several black collars running along a treadmill for all to see, locked to it by chains on their collars while a red collar supervisor kept them motivated with the occasional slap on the ass with a heavy paddle. The general store had added slaves to its inventory with an offer to brand any purchase for an additional fee of five bits, with mares that clearly knew that possibility displayed in the shop’s window, each priced based on their race and collar color. Another store right across from it was fitting those recently bought for ankle shackles, blinders and binders of all sorts. If there were worse places than this, Mac never wanted to see them.

Already he was placing the blame on the amount of caribou he saw. The place wasn’t flooded with them, but from the station Mac could see four stags just milling about in the streets. That alone doubled the entire population in Ponyville and since none of them looked like a magistrate like Gunne, he had to believe there were more elsewhere. Not to mention the abundance of cows he saw, some of them being led around with ropes around their necks, some being felt and touched as they let out moans, and others crying out in dismay as they were forced over a post and fucked hard.

As he thought for a moment on the last thing he saw, something didn't add up with that scene. Mac didn’t know much about female caribou, but what little he did know was that they loved to have sex no matter how demeaning or painful it was, Ginna being a shining example of that. It was only when he took a closer look at the women in question that he learned where he had made his mistake. There were a few caribou cows around, but they were outnumbered by other women that were bovine in nature. He recalled what AJ had told him of her first trip to Appaloosa, of the buffalo she had met. Once he understood what he saw, Mac felt embarrassed at making such a silly mistake, but the only cow he had ever seen was Ginna so he just made the assumption. Clearly these were buffalo females that had been enslaved, collared, and treated no better than the mares.

The buffalo women were an interesting sight to behold, on a purely physical aspect. Many were roughly the size of ponies, with soft, supple features and thin layers of fur similar many of the mares he knew, but then there were some that stood out much more than the others, some in a literal sense as they were huge in comparison to the Appaloosan stallions. A number of them were as tall as he was, with well toned and robust features that made the clydesdale flustered just by looking at them. The sheer size of them made the sight of one being led down the street by her nipples look ridiculous, her globe shaped breasts stretched out forward to show that the stallion was not giving her any leniency. Mac was certain that she could overpower the earth pony based on her bulk alone, yet she just walked along behind him with a look of indignance plastered on her face.

AJ noticed the glimpse of confusion on her brother's face at the sight of the woman, and gave him a nudge to direct his attention to the set of bracelets on the buffalo’s wrists and ankles, heavy looking pieces of metal that bore caribou runes. They looked exactly like ones in the magazine, ones that he now remember Applejack mentioning at one point. Magical bracelets that could be activated with a simple command phrase to force the bands together and render the wearer helpless, no matter how much physical effort they used to fight it. With those locked in place, and with the right kind of motivation, it was possible that anyone could be coerced into such a demeaning act if they found it more bearable than the alternative. Other females of similar build that passed by either had the rune enchanted bracelets on them, fitted with hobbling devices that caused them to stumble around awkwardly, or even made to crawl on their hands and knees while their owners pulled them along by a rope attached to a large loop ring pierced into their nostrils. Mac found himself unable to look away from the disturbing scene, but the more he watched, the more he became aware of something he had missed at first.

What he had believed were extended parts of their bonds encompassing their arms were actually elaborate tattoos that had been placed upon them, going through the upper layer of fur and to their flesh. It wasn’t just a few of them either; every buffalo Mac could spot had markings scrawled on them, with the rare red collars seemingly having more that climbed up to the shoulders and even to their backs. The images in the tattoos were varied and difficult to make out at a distance. Mac wondered if there was some kind of meaning to them, but he didn't have the time to figure it out as Gunne exited the station.

“I know where we need to go to sign up,” said the caribou, “A stallion told me we’d have to go down that way, make a right, and there should be a rodeo arena that we can’t miss.”

“Good,” Mac replied, “Then let’s get going. I've already had enough sightseeing to last the whole trip.” It would just be the three of them in Appleloosa. Gunne had decided not to bring Ginna with him to Appaloosa, not wanting to upset any of his fellow caribou with the presence of both he and his sister in one spot. Instead, he asked Mac to do him a favor by keeping her on his farm. The stallion gladly agreed, with the stipulation that the former mayor could stay while they were gone as well. Keeping both of Gunne’s slaves there would give the mare a much deserved break away from the confines of town hall and Roseluck a consenting partner that would tend to her desires, once she was done with her share of the chores.

Gunne took Mac’s bag, allowing Mac to slip his finger into the loop of AJ’s collar, wanting to appear in control to any stallions that might be at the competition. As long as she kept up the collar wouldn’t hurt her too much, and they had lots of practice with this type of display already. A short walk at an even pace and no one would be the wiser. They didn’t go completely unnoticed though, and they didn’t make it halfway down the block before someone snuck the two earth ponies from behind, taking measures to keep his presence hidden as he closed in. Mac was so focused on getting to his destination, eyes forward at all times to not look into some shop and see more things to haunt his dreams, that he never knew he was being stalked until it was too late and his pursuer was upon him.

Mac felt an arm wrap around his neck, followed by the force of a body pulling him downward to force him to bend forward. The attack was so sudden and unexpected that the farm stallion gave no resistance whatsoever, his loose grip on AJ’s collar ring slipping out as his torso was forced down. It took him a moment to realize what had even happened, his brain panicked, his instincts told him to fight back but his body froze in spot. He wasn’t even able to yell out an objection as the feeling of knuckles pushed against the top of his skull and…. rubbed harshly through his mane?

“Hey there cousin!” He heard a familiar voice say as he felt himself become the victim of a powerful noogy, “Fancy seein’ y'all around these parts!”

Mac tilted his head and moved his eyes upwards, which allowed him to make out the yellow coat and golden blonde hair of one of his family members. “Braeburn?!”

“Darn tootin’,” Braeburn said as he released Mac’s neck, “Haven’t seen ya since the last Apple family reunion, how’ve you been?”

“Fine, I’ve been fine,” Mac answered as he stood back upright, taking Braeburn’s hand in his so he could shake it. He looked exactly as Mac remembered him, in his hat, dusty jeans and leather vest he liked to wear everywhere. It had been so long since he had seen a friendly face, or at least one that wasn’t accompanied with the same kind of mental burdens he had. “So… how’ve you been since the last time Ah saw ya?”

“I’ve been great,” Braeburn replied with a smile that didn’t fit with everything going on around the two stallions. Or maybe it fit far too well, “Ever since the caribou came and helped us get all the women folk under control I’ve been put in charge of Appaloosa’s apple growing operations. With all the mares I’ve bought with the money I’ve made we’ve been growing at triple the rate that we used to, and at a fraction of the cost since we don’t have pay ’em.”

Mac disappointedly pulled his hand away from Braeburn’s; they had gotten him too. A member of his own family, now just another turned stallion who saw women as things to use for his own personal gain. How did he think he was gonna be though? Immune stallions were so few and far between that he had only ever met one, and the few others he’d heard about were either part of the small resistance groups that lived outside normal society, or had been switched into mares. That Braeburn stood there was indication enough that he had changed.

“And what do we have here?” asked Braeburn when he saw AJ standing aside Mac dumbfounded next to a caribou, “If it isn’t cousin Applejack, and lookin’ much more presentible since the last few times Ah saw ‘er.” Braeburn went up to his female cousin, hand raised, making its way to AJ’s breasts.

Mac laid his own hand on the stallion’s shoulder and held him firmly in place before he could reach his destination. If any other stallion had tried he might’ve let them get a quick grope just to keep up appearances, but there was no way he was going to let Applejack get felt up by a family member. That was one experience he would never allow to be scarred into her memories. “Sorry Braeburn, but she’s off limits. She’s goin’ to be shown off tomorrow in front of a crowd and Ah don’t want her to get bruised up by some grabby hands.”

“Mac, who is this stallion?” Gunne spoke up, getting over his own surprise and awkwardness, hand on the stun baton on his belt in case this stallion decided to lay a hand on Mac again.

“It’s fine, he’s family,” said Mac to dismiss Gunne’s concerns. He didn’t want harm to befall Braeburn, even if he had become a bastard under the influence of the caribou.

“Got yourself a new friend Mac?” Braeburn asked, sizing up the caribou. “And he looks to be one of them there official types too.”

“Yeah, well… he’s just here to help with AJ and…”

“Right, ya said ya were gonna be showing her off tomorrow. Then Ah suppose that you’re entering her into that competition they’re holding, right? Then do ya got yourself a place to stay for the night?”

Mac didn’t have a reservation anyplace, but he felt this was another situation Gunne’s presence would fix if needed. “We were gonna rent a room after we signed up for the pet show.”

“Then y'all are gonna be hard pressed to find one in such short notice. That show has brought in a mess of tourists an’ anyplace ya could find a room will be filled up by now. I’m afraid the only way that you could get in one is if ya forced somepony else out and took their room.”

“That could be arranged.” Gunne offhandedly remarked at Braeburn’s comment.

The caribou’s words fell on deaf ears, as the earth pony had already figured where his cousins would be staying that night. “Why don’t ya head on over to mah farm and stay there? I’d be pleased as punch to put ya up for the night. Had to deal with so many mares in our family lately that it’ll be nice to have another Apple stallion around for a change.”

With the way Braeburn was acting, Mac wasn’t too enthused with his offer, but what he had tacked on to the end of it peaked his interest immensely. “You’ve been around mares from our family?”

“Almost constantly,” answered Braeburn as a bit of smug pride came to the surface, “When mares started going up for sale Ah got a few, put them to work so ah could afford more of them to do more work and earn me more bits than Ah know what to do with. No matter how stupid those dirt mares are, there’s still no better pony to do hard labor like an Apple. You know that though, since ah see you’ve got cousin Applejack under your control like she should’ve been all these years.”

“That’s right... “ Mac said, Braeburn’s attitude beginning to get to him, “She’s the hardest working mare on mah farm.”

“If that’s fancy talk for businessman then Ah sure am. I’d be glad to give y'all a guided tour, even if cousin Mac here decides not to stay over.”

Mac wasn’t sure; he had wanted to know what was happening with the rest of his family since he had seen Fiddly Faddle at Fluttershy’s farm, but he didn’t like the mental image he was getting from Braeburn's explanation. He looked to Applejack in hopes that she would tell him whether or not he should go, even if she’d have to do so non-verbally, but before she could make the slightest of gestures Gunne stepped in. “I’m sure Mac would be glad to tour your facilities.”

“Then follow me. The farm is on the outskirts of town, but it’s not that far. I do have to make a stop to pick up one of mah slaves along the way; left her back at the grocers so Ah could catch up to ya.”

Braeburn started walking ahead, unaware that Mac wasn’t following behind him. Mac was far too busy shooting Gunne dirty looks for volunteering him to be part of Braeburn’s tour. “What was that all about?”

“I apologize, but I feel it would be in your best interest if you were to see how another stallion of your family did things, one that has embraced my people’s ways.” Despite saying he was sorry, Gunne didn’t really appear to be all that apologetic. It was more like he was glad, glad to find someone that could act as a better influence on Mac than himself. “At the very least it will give us something to do. We got here early, we have all day to sign in for your attendance.”

Gunne walked ahead so as to not to lose track of Braeburn, leaving Mac and AJ with nothing to do except silently share their annoyance at the stag’s actions. The glare Applejack gave her brother said “Are you really surprised?” and he couldn’t disagree with that sentiment; regardless of how helpful and understanding Gunne was, he was still a caribou. If he thought that there was a way to change Mac’s point of view he would try it. The clydesdale put his finger back in AJ’s collar ring and the two reluctantly went to meet back up with Braeburn.

They caught up quickly, Braeburn hadn’t gone too far, and saw that he had already retrieved the slave he spoke of before. To Mac’s surprise it wasn’t an Apple, or even a mare, but one of the buffalo. She was one of the smaller ones, with orange fur and hair a similar golden blonde as her owner. She was a red collar, her body a lean, girlish figure. She wore a tan shawl that covered her shoulders and arms, but nothing else, tassels running along its edges that draped over her exposed size B breasts. Her nipples had been taped over, with the imprints of two pill shaped objects showing through the silvery stripes. Beneath the tape, they shook with intensity. Her vagina was simply stuffed, as a red rod stuck out of her that made her labia stretch out till the skin pulled tightly against itself, the cylinder pushing her pierced clit outward. The rod was visible through a pair of panties so sheer they might as well not even exist, especially after being soaked through by her obvious arousal. Mac of course had no idea who this girl was supposed to be, but with the way he saw Applejack’s eyes narrow she clearly did.

“Master,” the buffalo addressed Braeburn in a calm, yet cheerful manner, “I have what you told me to get.” The girl lifted her arm to hand her master a bag that had been concealed underneath her shawl, presenting it to the stallion and revealing that she too had rows of tattoos travelling up from her wrists to her shoulders.

Braeburn took the bag and peeked inside, looking pleased when he saw his slave had accomplished the task given to her. “That’s mah Strongheart.”

“Thank you master,” She replied, bowing her head slightly. She was very composed for having so many things in and on the sensitive areas of her body, but light pants could still be heard.

“What a lovely and well-trained creature you have,” Gunne said, seeing Braeburn as more of an ideal role model for Mac with every new thing he learned about the new stallion. “She is delightful, so polite and obedient.”

Braeburn extended an empty hand towards Strongheart and she in turn handed him a leash. “Well thank ya kindly, I’ve worked hard to get ‘er just how Ah like. Buffalo are a stubborn lot by nature, but once ya wear them down they make much better slaves than ponies, at least in mah opinion.”

“You give too much credit, Master.” Strongheart said as she allowed the stallion to move her panties aside and hook the leash onto her clit ring, “You’re the reason I was able to see how good it felt to submit to the will of a male. As for the rest of my people, I can only apologize for their behavior and hope they can be as well trained by their own masters.”

“And humble too.” said Gunne, “How refreshing to see a girl who understands that their accomplishments, like themselves, belong to their master.”

AJ let out a low growl, one quiet enough that only Mac noticed it. She was tired of hearing Strongheart talked about as if she were mere property, and even more so that she was accepting it. The buffalo she knew, albeit for a brief time, was much stronger than that, and it was infuriating to see her reduced to this level by her own cousin. Only the leather wrapped around her muzzle kept her from giving Braeburn, Gunne and Strongheart a piece of her mind. That, and Mac’s pleading look that asked her to just let it go. She turned away and folded her arms, her stifled anger building up impotently in her chest.

“Looks like cousin Applejack is gettin’ restless,” Braeburn commented, “It’s ‘bout time we headed off anyway, can’t leave those mares alone for too long. No telling what kind of mess they could make without me around to keep them in line.” The stallion gave the leash in his hands the lightest of tugs and then headed out of town with Strongheart in tow, leading his guests to his farm.

If Mac was a lesser stallion he would’ve cried, or perhaps had gone mad on the spot from what he saw. Even that would have been an understated reaction to the nightmare before him.

“Aah, huff, uhh, ahh. ooohhhhhh!!!” a row of red collars in front of the outer fence of Braeburn’s farm were grunting lustfully. All of them earth ponies, all of them Apples. There was a sign set up at the entrance that stated that any one of the red collars were eager and willing to please any male that paid a measly sum of five bits per ten minutes of use, with barrels placed under the sign for the male ponies to put their coins in. With such a deal there was a line around the farm that seemed to go on for miles. Each mare covered head to hoof with semen, and when a stallion released himself in or outside one of the mares, another would take his place.

“Don’t! Stop! It! Feels! Good! Splitting! Me! In! Two!” One of the mares, a yellow mare with pinkish red hair and amber eyes Mac knew by the name of Apple Bumpkin, declared her enjoyment at how a unicorn was plowing her from behind. Every thrust slammed the two together so hard that slapping sounds could be heard over the yells and grunts. The “pat, pat, pat” of the stallion’s hips hitting her rounded ass grated Mac’s ears and caused him to flinch with each contact. Her flooding vaginal fluids trickled down her legs and slathered the male’s cock, the sight repulsed Mac and made him avert his eyes. This proved to be a mistake, as they landed on another Apple in the bunch.

Apple Brown Betty, one of his aunts, knelt before a pegasus so she could make make his penis disappear down into her muzzle. Betty had allowed her tongue to hang out of her mouth to provide a pleasant pillow for the stallion to place his sensitive organ upon as she slowly, almost lovingly, moved back and forth along his shaft. The pegasus was quite pleased with the earth mare’s treatment, his wings flapping with excitement so hard it made him lift off the ground slightly. Betty’s hands firmly grasping his ass to keep him close were the only thing that kept him grounded.

Mac didn’t watch his aunt for too much longer, as a pair of squeals led his eyes away just before he had to watch the stallion cum inside her mouth. Two more mares had been picked up by two earth stallions, their bodies held up by their legs as they held onto one another while the ones holding them shoved themselves inside their backsides. A pair of braided red pigtails told Mac that she was his cousin Candy Apple, even though her back was turned to him, and the other his cousin Apple Honey. Watching them like that, holding onto each other, kissing like lovers, and moaning as they were fucked in public was so unreal that Mac had to move to get a better look, to make sure that it wasn’t someone else, to convince himself that no member of his family would let themselves fall so far and that this was all a big mistake.

The change of perspective didn’t change the mares he saw, no matter how many times Mac tried to adjust his position. The only thing it did was give him a clear view of what was going on. How the two Apple mares were rubbing their bare breasts together as their bodies pressed together, how they shared a large, metallic looking rod in both of their pussies, and the expressions they made as they were treated less as mares and more as things to stick one’s dick in. It turned his knees into jelly, and he might’ve fallen over if Applejack hadn’t stayed close and braced herself against him when she saw him trembling.

“Ah don’t blame ya cousin Mac,” said Braeburn as AJ helped the clydesdale keep his balance, “A sight like this is so amazing that it knocks the breath out of ya.”

“Ya... can say that again... “ said Mac, regaining control of his faculties. He needed to tune it out. Couldn’t let it get to him, had to stay focused like all the times in Ponyville. How could he though? Four mares from his own flesh and blood hollering for more sex than the stallions behind them could provide, six others had already collapsed from the stain of the sexual labor they had been put through, each turned into distorted shadows of their former selves.

Braeburn handed the leash he held back to his buffalo slave, walked up to the coin barrels and grabbed the string to a bell nailed to the fence post just above the sign. “Y'all wrap it up! These mares got more than their fair share of dick for the morning and need to get their asses out to the fields.” The line of stallions let out a united disgruntled groan, most of them had waited so long for nothing, some of the ones next in line even looked hostile. Braeburn, not the least bit intimidated, added to his announcement, “If y'all really want to keep at it then be mah guest, but if any of these girls get fucked so silly that they turn purple then you’ve bought ‘em, and they go for ten thousand bits a head.”

The jaws of the entire crowd dropped at the outrageous price the stallion was asking for damaged property, with the ones that were inside of a mare already pulling out the second they realized they could be liable. “There isn’t a dirt mare alive that’s worth that much!” yelled a pegasus yards away from the front of the line.

“Ah beg to argue that,” Braeburn replied, “Totaling in the price Ah paid for them, the wages Ah stand to lose with them not working, inflation, what it’ll cost me to have someone hunt down another one with the same capabilities, plus my own personal finder’s fee for gettin’ a new pet for whichever one of ya is the lucky stallion to break one of ‘em… Well iffin y’all don’t believe me ah could fetch an appraiser, but I’d have to add that to the total cost and they don’t come cheap.”

The stallions were all stunned at the amount of financial jargon that came from a pony this far out in the boonies, at a loss for words save for one last unicorn that saw a way around this situation through the caribou standing not so far away from Braeburn. “Excuse me, but you look like you're a man of prominence. Is he telling the truth? Are they worth that much?”

Gunne thought about what he had been asked, this wasn’t really something he had taken the time to learn. He did know the law however, and there was an easy way to resolve this. “We can’t be certain without an appraiser, but I can say this. This stallion has the right to set an asking price for his property that’s as high as he wants. He might never find a buyer for the amount that he wants, but it’s on him if they never sell. You could do the same with a painting or a piece of jewelry. Now that doesn’t mean that he would necessarily get that much if one was broke, that is where an appraiser would come in again. But…” Gunne looked at the determined glint in Braeburn’s eyes, not once showing doubt, “Do you really want to risk it if he ends up being right?”

The stallions only took a few seconds to mull it over before walking away, the caribou shutting down their last hope of continuing without fear of being heavily indebted to the farm pony. “Now don’t y’all go sulkin’ off like that. There will be a fresh batch of reds out here at five in the afternoon. Come on back and you’ll be able to get your dicks wet good an’ proper.”

Braeburn got little more than a few disheartened grunts in reply, many of the stallions not wanting to put up with the earth pony’s shady dealings. They could find cheaper pussy elsewhere. When Gunne determined that the crowd was out of earshot he went behind Braeburn as said to him, “You’re a shrewd business pony indeed, but I have to know… Are they really worth that much?”

“Worth every single bit,” the stallion answered, “Now iffin’ ya will excuse me for a moment.” He walked over to the exhausted group of red collars, stopping at Apple Bumpkin, who had slumped herself over the fence taking labored breaths, her whole body shaking as cum flowed out of her. “Ten minutes, then mah gold better be inside and the lot of ya out in the fields. Make sure to clean up that mess over there while you’re at it.” he pointed to the cum-soaked mares laying on the flat ground on the ground. “You bitches still in the right mind to understand a simple order like that?”

“Yes Master,” Bumpkin answered, with the others that were still conscious giving the same reply a split second after.

“Good,” Braeburn went back to Mac and the others, assured that his orders would be followed without error, “Now that that’s been settled how’s about Ah show ya how Ah run the actual business of the farm.” The group entered through the archway that separated Braeburn’s land from the rest off Appaloosa, the stallion immediately going into how he ran the place. Mac and AJ weren’t listening too carefully though, as they didn’t need to know the details when the results were all around them.

There were so many of the Apple family mares on the farm, perhaps just under a tenth of the entire clan from what Mac could see. So many of them were still black collars, and of those none were shown any mercy under Braeburn’s watch. Large metal carts were pulled from one apple tree to another by relatives chained to them, yokes latched around their collars as sweat glistened on their bodies in the hot sun, only allowed rest as they waited for others to buck down the fruits that hung from them. He caught a few lucky ones get a short extension to this break when an apple would fall outside of the containers. The mare that bucked the tree had to crouch down and bend over so that they could clasp the stems of the fruits in their teeth, as their own arms were cuffed behind their backs with rounded rubber pieces of plastic around their hands to make them unable to be used.

More were in the vacant areas off to the side of the orchard, attached to plows in similar fashion as they made lines in the empty fields, others tethered at the back ends of the farm equipment by their throats, wearing belts with seed pouches on them as he had been forced to do with to the mares at Sweet Apple Acres. That’s when it dawned on him what Braeburn did and what it was he had turned into. Of the two stallions, Braeburn was always the more proactive one. While Mac was happy to stay at home and help Granny Smith and Applejack tend to the fields, Braeburn was out forming a new settlement and expanding the family business. Had Mac been the same, or maybe even if he would’ve turned like the rest of the stallions, this could’ve been Sweet Apple Acres. He could’ve been buying mares and putting them to work for his ends; friends, family members, Applejack. This was the answer to the question he had been asking himself for a long time, and now that he knew it he was all the more glad he stayed the way he was. Despite the heartache and the horrors he had seen, it was better than allowing the mares in his charge to suffer like this.

“...And with the girls working their asses off from the crack of dawn to sun down it’s no wonder we’re the top producer of apples, apple cider and…” Braeburn stopped in the middle of his guided tour mid sentence, something in his peripheral vision not sitting right with him. “Excuse me a moment, Ah gotta take care of a little problem I’ve been havin’.”

“But of course.” Said Gunne, the only one there who was able to speak and who had been paying attention.

Braeburn left the path he was on and stepped over to one of the carts, matching pace with the girl pulling it. “Dosie Dough, what the fuck is the matter with ya?!”

Hearing the name of another of his relatives yelled aloud, Mac looked back just in time to catch Braeburn grab the mare by one of her thick curls and yank her head to the side. It was enough to make the clydesdale want to intervene, but Gunne shot that down quickly by putting his arm in Mac’s way as a silent reminder that he couldn’t act without causing trouble for himself.

“Ya keep lagging behind, slowing everypony else down, and in front of guests no less. Ah thought putting ya on one of the disciplinary carts would give ya the motivation to shape up, but now Ah gotta take things into my own hands.”

“Aaa orwie!” Dosie Dough said from behind a gag in her mouth, a white, hollowed out ball full of holes and made of hard plastic.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Ah want results! Ah want you moving as fast as all the others, if not faster!”

Examining the ‘disciplinary cart’, Mac could see that it was designed to make things harder for the mare attached to it. The cart was bigger for starters, meaning it was heavier and could hold more weight when filled. On the side were hooks that held several paddles and switches of different sizes. Where the other carts had yokes that allowed the mares to use their whole bodies to pull, Dosie Dough’s cart had a singular pole sticking out of the front of it with cuffs attached to her wrists, which made the cart’s entire load rest upon her arms. A pair of chains at the cart’s bottom were likewise attached to her ankles, but it was so short that the only thing it would do is slow her down. Braeburn expected her to keep up in these conditions?

Braeburn let go of the clump of hair, grabbing one of the leather strands of her gag instead. “Ah know you’re tryin’, so I’m gonna let you pick how bad your punishment will be. One, two, or three?”

Dosie continued to pull, but knew that Braeburn couldn’t be ignored. “Uhn!”

“One? No, no, ya can do better than that.”

That bastard, Mac thought to himself, He just said she could choose.

Since Braeburn didn’t accepting her answer, Dosie Dough gave him another. “Ooo?”

“Not quite, but getting warmer to what you want to say.”

Dosie finally gave in and told the stallion what he wanted to hear. “Hree…”

Braeburn grabbed the biggest paddle he could find on the cart and pulled it off, “That’s a good girl.” With a snap of his wrist he fired five swift shots at any part of Dosie’s behind he could find. By the end of the admittedly quick assault the mare was moving at double the pace she was before, the pain in her flank more important than that which the cart would cause her later. “Now keep that up and don’t slow down for nothin’. If dragons fly by and set fire to the town you best be collecting apples while they do.” Dosie gave a nod of understanding as she speed along, allowing Braeburn to return to his other two cousins, his buffalo slave, and his caribou guest. “So where was I?”

“You were getting into some of the other things that your slaves do on the farm aside from grow and collect apples.” Gunne reminded.

“Quite right, and we’re right where we need to be to show ya what Ah was talking about.”

The group stopped as they stood in front of a barn that. They could hear a great deal of sound coming from within; whatever was inside was big, and Braeburn was eager to show it off. He pulled the door open, and ushered everyone inside.

The interior of the barn was no different than the rest of the farm. Perhaps it was a bit more… industrial, but the overall atmosphere of oppression and misery still hung over everything like a wet blanket, heavy and practically suffocating. Where spare farm equipment and stores produce should’ve been, there were instead large machines running full tilt, powered by the same treadmill system that he has seen the brothel use earlier. Actually, he was familiar with these, being that he had powered such a device himself for Granny Smith several times in the past. It was an apple juicing machine, the kind used by the Apples to make their famous cider. Jonagold, Red Gala, and Caramel Apple were running their little hearts out to keep the machines up and going, their individual black collars each connected by a wire to a set of metal bars in front of them, their arms bound behind them by belts tightly wrapped around their upper and lower arms. He couldn’t help but notice that the girls hips tended to sway from side to side in a seductive manner while they sprinted, and wondered if that was something they have been trained to do as it didn’t look natural.

Others, ones in collars of red, had the much easier task of sorting the good apples from the bad and tossing them into the devices. Apple Bottom, Apple Cobbler and his own Aunt Orange were amongst the mares Mac could pick out from the ones given this privilege. Being red collars, they most certainly fucked their way into this cushy position, and it sickened Mac to think that even more of his family than just the ones out front had chosen to submit to caribou rule. The clydesdale traveled down the machines to the rows of conveyor belts the cider was going to, countless more of his female kin filling bottle after bottle with freshly squeezed cider and putting the sealed glass containers into crates for shipping. They all moved like clockwork, surely motivated by the threat of Braeburn’s cruelty like Dosie had been.

“And here is where we make our biggest money maker,” Braeburn said, continuing his tour, “Apple Family Cider, freshly squeezed and shipped out all across Equestria.”

“I’ve actually had some of this before,” said Gunne, “It’s a delicious drink. Intoxicating in its own ways.”

Mac wasn’t as delighted to learn about where the caribou’s cider supply had come from, in fact it made the stallion outraged at what his cousin was doing, “You’ve been selling our family’s secret recipe around Equestria, knowing that Sweet Apple Acres makes a lot of the money it needs during cider season?!”

“Oh shucks, Ah suppose Ah should’ve told ya what Ah was doing Mac, but with how many mares there were that use to run things for the family Ah thought it wouldn’t matter anymore iffin’ Ah took advantage of one of our best kept secrets. It’s not like ya are completely out of things to keep your farm afloat. Ah take it y’all got yourself the zap apples, right?”

“And don’t forget,” Gunne added, “You provide more than just apples to Ponyville now. The fruits and vegetables you grow are bought by all the stallions in the town. A few less cider sales shouldn’t be too much of an issue.”

“But if ya are feelin’ cheated Ah could always buy ya out of your farm and slaves. Sweet Apple Acres is a nice piece of land and havin’ cousin Applejack workin’ here would draw in stallions from all around. Ah bet they’d pay a hundred bits a pop for the chance to cum in her slut mare pus-”

“NO!” Mac shouted, turning the heads of every pony in the barn with the commanding tone of his, some mares so shaken by it that they accidentally spilled the bottles they were filling to the ground. He was not about to even humor the idea of Braeburn being AJ’s master, not after all he’d seen.

Gunne identified that Mac was at his limit of tolerance for all this and felt the need to cover for the stallion, since it was he that insisted that Mac come in the first place. “What my friend here means is that he can’t sell his slave, as she’s not truly his. She belongs to the state, put into his care in order to help grow food for Ponyville.”

“Well that’s a shame,” Braeburn said as he put his hand to his chin, thinking deeply on what the caribou told him. “Then Ah suppose Ah’ll have to withdraw mah offer. The only thing on that farm worth a bit to me is cousin Applejack and…” Braeburn stopped himself, looking at Mac intensely for reasons the clydesdale could only assume. “Then Ah suppose that brings the tour to a close.”

“What?” Mac said, a feeling of insult coming over him, “Ah don’t have anything ya want so you’re kicking me off your farm?”

“Course not,” Braeburn replied, “Ah offered mah hospitality an’ Ah don’t intend to take it back. You’re more than welcome to stay the night like Ah promised.”

Mac was conflicted by the offer. On one hand he would have to be around Braeburn, who had proven to be the most selfish and opportunistic stallion he had met yet. On the other, being around the farm would give him the chance to talk to some of the mares of his family and see how they were. He wouldn’t get good answers, but it would let him know exactly how bad Braeburn was, and perhaps if they obeyed they at least had an easier time. It would be the closure he needed when it came to the mares of his family, or at least that was what he hoped. “I’ll… take ya up on that offer.”

Gunne pulled Mac aside and took him towards the barn’s entrance, “Mac, are you sure? You almost cracked a moment ago. I don’t want you to do anything that might push you over the edge.”

“Ya shoulda thought about that before draggin’ me out here.” Mac lashed out at the caribou, getting a bit of unexpected surprise from him. Mac sighed as he realized what he had done. “Look, I’ll be okay. This is somethin’ Ah have to do for mahself. Ah won’t do anything to mess up tomorrow an’ I’ll be on mah best behavior.”

“Very well then,” Gunne turned back to Braeburn, “We graciously accept your offer.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Mah invitation was to mah cousin an’ his slave only. Not to be inhospitable, but Ah was already havin’ him sleep on the couch. It wouldn’t be good iffin’ word got around that Ah made a caribou sleep on the floor.”

Mac found what Braeburn said odd, as it was a custom amongst Apples to always have a spare bedroom at the ready. There were so many Apples that one could never tell when they would be getting unexpected guests that needed a room for the night. Then again, Braeburn probably turned his guest room into a vault to store all his money. This however wouldn’t deter Mac from speaking with the women of his family.

Gunne gave Mac a look to see if he still wanted to stay, to which the stallion gave a short nod. “I suppose it can’t be helped then. I was planning on getting a hotel room anyways, so this doesn’t bother me.” Gunne went to leave the barn, stopping aside Mac along the way. “I’ll make sure you are signed in when I get back to town and will pick you up tomorrow. Get lots of rest and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Mac gave Gunne one more nod, sending the caribou on his way. It was going to be tough to restrain himself without Gunne around, but he felt he could manage. And he still had AJ, though that might have been a bad thing considering she might encourage poor behavior.

“Nice friend ya got there,” Braeburn commented as he shut the barn door once the caribou had gotten halfway down the path off his land, his slave mares having returned to work as soon as Gunne had exited the building, “Ya deal with caribou often?”

“Ah don’t make a habit of it,” Mac replied as went aside AJ, a place he intended to stay to make sure that Braeburn didn’t get any funny ideas, “But Gunne has been… helping me around Ponyville.”

“How has he been helping ya?” asked Braeburn, his curiosity about the two’s relationship becoming evident.

“It’s not worth talkin’ about,” Mac answered. If he told Braeburn the truth there was no telling what could come of it. He could be like Filthy Rich and try to give him advice on how to ‘guide’ him on how to treat a mare properly, or like Gunne and respect his stance on the matter even if he disagreed. But the way he acted it was most likely that he’d be like the countless stallions who had shunned and ridiculed him in the past, maybe going as far to use the knowledge against him.

“Master,” a small voice spoke up from behind Mac and Applejack, that of the buffalo girl that belonged to Braeburn, “I think there is something I need to tell you. Permission to speak freely?”

“Permission granted,” said Braeburn. Having been allowed to speak as she wished, Strongheart went to her master’s ear and whispered something so quietly that Mac couldn’t overhear. He could hear what Braeburn thought of it though, as he uttered, “Uhuh.. Right... I’ve been noticin’ the same thing too,” all while the slave/master pair darted their eyes between the clydesdale and his sister. When Strongheart finished she stepped away, still wearing that smile from back in town.

“Mac, Ah want to make somethin’ clear between us, iffin’ ya don’t mind.” Braeburn said, his back lead up against the barn door with his hands in his pockets. “Ah been gettin’ word of you an’ cousin Applejack’s shenanigans in Ponyville. That she’s been a stubborn bitch an’ that you’ve been lettin’ it go on.” Mac opened his mouth to rebut what his cousin had to say, but was interrupted, “But then Ah started hearing that ya turned a new leaf. That ya were puttin’ her ass out more an’ in turn she had become more obedient. Not exactly somethin’ a mentally deficient stallion does easy. Strongheart here says that she’s seen ya acting pretty strange around mah mares, givin’ them sad looks like they don’t belong here, but at the same time you’re pals with a caribou. So exactly which side of the fence are ya on?”

“What difference does it make?” Mac answered.

“Do ya get the stallions that stick their dicks in her to pay ya at least?”

By now even AJ was sending Braeburn hateful glares, never in her life believing that her cousin could ever become as crass and loathsome as he was. With her mouth bound up though, it was up to Mac to defend his sister’s dignity. “No Ah don’t.” he said truthfully, never once wanting to belittle Applejack more by turning what she was volunteering to do for the good of the farm into prostitution.

“Do ya sit there an’ watch?”

“On occasion,” he replied honestly again, acknowledging the times he watched over AJ to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

“Do ya fuck ‘er?”

Somehow Mac knew this was where the line of questions was going, but that didn’t make it any more pleasant to hear out of Braeburn’s lips, especially with what it implied about the stallion and the mares he had. “Ah... wouldn’t… dare touch her like that. I’m not goin’ to take advantage of her like that, or any other mare for tha-” The clydesdale clamped his mouth tight, but he had already slipped out too much. There was hardly any way someone could misconstrue what he was going to say.

This seemed to be what Braeburn was looking for, as he gave a devious grin. “Well look at that, seems mah cousin does still care about what happens to mares.” The stallion reached up to his hat, grabbing the tip of it and tilting it downwards to cover his face. “Gotta say, Ah wasn’t too sure for a moment if ya had been ‘cured’ or not…” Braeburn gave a pause and removed the hat completely from his head, handing it off to Strongheart. “But boy howdy am Ah sure glad ya aren’t.”

In the blink of an eye something about Braeburn changed. No longer did his face bear the same mannerism that he had seen on so many converted stallions. Instead his expressions seemed gentler, kinder, completely unlike what he had been acting like before and more like how he Mac knew he was before the fall.

“You’re… glad that I’m not cured?” Mac asked confused, the sudden tonal shift from Braeburn having confused him.

“Of course Ah am. When I saw ya pullin’ cousin AJ around in town, and with a caribou at your side no less, Ah thought ya lost your mind like the rest of the stallions. What a relief to see Ah was wrong.”

Both Mac and Applejack were shocked. After all that Braeburn had said and done this was the last thing they had expected to hear. “Then ya mean that you’re not…”

“‘Cured’? Heck no.” The yellow stallion spat onto the ground, as if to get the bad taste of saying the word out of his mouth. “An’ it’s good to see another stallion who isn’t either.”

This didn’t make sense, “But the way you’ve been acting, the red collars out front, what you did to Dosie Dough…. HER!” Mac pointed to directly at the buffalo girl standing right beside him, the pill shaped toys taped to her breasts still vibrating as they spoke.

“It’s… an act.” said Strongheart, her cheerful tone being replaced with a much less happy one. “Something we do to make everyone else think that we’re just going along with the system.”

“Ah promise to explain everythin’,” said Braeburn, “But Ah think ya need to speak with some other ponies before Ah do.”

Mac didn’t know who or what Braeburn was talking about, but then something hit him. It had been a while since he heard to sounds of running machinery or the sound of glass bottles hitting up against one another. He tried to turn around as fast as he could, but before he could a set of arms wrapped around his neck for the second time that day.

“MAC!” yelled out Red Gala as she hopped onto the much larger pony, the impact of her body being followed by several more as mares plowed into Mac to give him the biggest group hug he had ever received. AJ received some similar attention, though the loving embraces given to her were one at a time instead of a huge dog pile like with her brother. As happy as the Apple mares were to see Applejack safe and sound, it couldn’t compare with the excitement of Mac being able to resist the caribou’s influence.

“Ah… Ah...“ Mac took a step back and braced himself against a wall, overwhelmed by the affection being given to him by his completely nude female kin. “Ah need a minute. Could someone please tell what’s goin’ on here for Equestria’s sake?”

“It’s like Strongheart said,” Braeburn answered, “Most of what y'all have seen is an act, Something to convince the stallions in town, an’ visitors, that I’m on the up an’ up.”

“But… what about the red collars up front? They were fucking those stallions like there was no tomorrow.”

As if to answer Mac’s question, the barn doors opened up once more to allow the ten mares he had seen to enter with the barrels that held the coins they had earned for the use of their bodies. “Our caribou guest just left the farm Master,” announced Candy Apple as she set the barrel to the side. She gave Braeburn the once over and saw what she needed to in order to know that the coast was clear. She leaned over the top of the barrel, laying her elbows and breasts in the bits, and rested her chin on her hands. “So Big Macintosh is in his right mind then, is he?”

“Told you he’d be like Braeburn,” said Apple Honey while she gave a slight push to shoulder, “But you didn’t believe me.”

“I didn’t say you were wrong, “ Candy pushed Honey back, giving a bit more than she received, “I just didn’t answer because the stallion I had was poking my ass too hard. Good thing they can’t tell the difference between a moan of pain and one of pleasure.”

“I could still find the time to whisper to you despite that dildo in us almost going in my womb.”

“Hey!” Braeburn interrupted the two mares’ spat, “We got actual guests here for once. Cut all the red talk, mind y’all’s manners, an’ show some respect.”

“Sorry Braeburn...” The two earth mares said together.

“Good, cousin Mac’s been through as much as we have, so let’s make him feel right at home. But first…” Braeburn addressed the still confused stallion in the barn, “Mind takin’ that stuff off of cousin Applejack? Ah think she deserves to be a part of this too.”

It took a moment, but Mac reached into his pockets and took out a pair of keys given to him by Gunne. He found the one for the muzzle and unlocked it, Applejack pulling it off as soon as she heard the click on the lock that held it tight. “Braeburn, what the hay are ya up to?” The mare was still wary of her cousin’s intentions. She’d like to have believed that Braeburn was just pretending to go along with the caribou’s way of doing things, and the amount of black collared mares on the farm supporting his claim was a plus, but his earlier actions attested otherwise. A red collar might be able to be faked, and walking a woman on a leash wasn’t really a big deal if they weren’t being dragged along, but he had made a move to grope her earlier and the paddling he gave Dosie Dough was all too real. “If ya are tryin’ to show us that y’all ain’t like the rest of them stallions then ya got a heck of a way in doin’ so.”

“Again, sorry but Ah couldn’t be too careful. As bad as it sounds, Ah had to test Mac. Everything Ah did was to see how he would respond. If need be Ah would’ve felt ya up like any other stallion, but ya know it wouldn’t have meant a thing to a pony like me.”

“Right… Ah suppose ya got a point there.” AJ replied, understanding what he meant.

Mac, however, was in the dark about what Braeburn was talking about, “Am Ah missing something here? Why wouldn’t it mean anythin’ to ya? If Ah was in the same position Ah know it would mean a lot to me.”

“Well ya know that I’m... of a certain persuasion, right?” Braeburn said to Mac, “Actually it’s one of the reasons the other stallions didn’t think twice when Ah didn’t join in with raping the mares in Appaloosa when the caribou came around. Ah reckon it might even be why I’m immune.”

Mac was lost in what Braeburn said, not understanding what he meant by a certain persuasion. It was something that AJ picked up on quickly, “Braeburn, Ah don’t think Mac ever learned about your preferences.”

“Seriously?” Braeburn said astonished, “Ah knew ya were never the brightest Apple in the bunch, but… Well we can talk about that all later. For right now Ah think ya two got a lot of catching up to do with everypony here.”

That was something that Mac understood, and was glad to follow his cousin’s suggestion. He didn’t know who to start with, but as all but a few mares went back to work, some of them taking a small opportunity to give him and AJ small hugs or encouraging words before returning to their assigned jobs, he realized he wouldn’t have to. They had already figured out how to handle situations with new family members finding out about the farm’s secret. Maybe it was something Braeburn had come up with; he was always the more proactive one.

One by one Mac and Applejack were led around that day to speak with each and every mare on the farm, receiving their individual stories of how Braeburn had saved them. Tales of their horrible experiences at the hands of ponies they had once called friends, or how they were forced to undergo torments by the caribou who didn’t consider them sentient beings. Where they would be bound to some device in a public display of how weak they were, made to work with heavy restraint to prove their inferiority as they stumbled about, or simply raped time and time again so they would be reduced to nothing but sex slaves. Every story awful, but all of them ended with Braeburn showing up to take them away from it all.

They also explained in better detail about how Braeburn stayed under the radar, that he would take efforts to keep suspicions on him at a minimum by treating them as he knew males would expect another male to treat a woman. It sounded bad, but there was a system to the abuse that the stallion dished out on a daily basis. Any mare wearing a red collar had been asked before hand if they would be willing to change from their ‘unwilling’ status and sacrifice their own dignity for the sake of the others, usually older ones that offered up their own bodies to distract any wandering eyes from those who lacked the experience or mental fortitude to endure the degradation that came with being treated as a fuck toy.

Black collars were then asked to take turns playing whipping girl to keep up the idea that Braeburn was keeping them all under pressure, being taken into town in groups for a day of use or allowing themselves to be run through the wringer when Braeburn would personally give them an entirely real flogging for their ‘disobedience’. Dosie Dough, when approached, had a few light bruises from her paddling, as well as some incredibly sore arms from lugging around her heavy cart, but to her a week of pain on the farm was nothing compared to a lifetime of it elsewhere.

There were also those that Braeburn took a small form of leniency on, a few that he found too sensitive to play either the red collar or the whipping girl, and that is where he came up with the idea of the cider brewery to keep them further away from the outside world. They would still receive the occasional touch from some male touring the farm, or by Braeburn himself if he needed to keep up appearances, but for the most part the barn was a safe zone for those meek mares. It also served as a place of short reprieve for those who had just ended their own shifts taking the brunt of Braeburn’s ‘cruelty’. If a guy ever tried to go too far with them, or any of the Apple mares, then he would do as he did at the the gate and give them reasons why it was better off if they didn’t, usually involving a price far too steep for anyone to want to pay. It was as clever as it was devious, which made it fit the character Braeburn was trying to portray all the more.

The day eventually came to an end, and all the mares were taken to a stable behind the barn so that they could rest, every one given her own separate stall filled with hay to provide them something soft to lay in. After each mare attached themselves to the stall via a chain, as another precaution encase some horny stallions or perhaps something worse like diamond dogs decided to pay them a late night visit, Applejack and Mac were treated to a somewhat amusing round of “goodnight”s before Braeburn turned out the lights and escorted them both to a campfire he had set up earlier. The work day was over, and now the only things still awake on the farm were three Apples and a single buffalo.

For a short time the four were silent, reflecting on everything that had happened that day. To Applejack it was a relief to learn that there was another stallion in her family going out of his way to make things better for those who had been unjustly tortured and abused. For Mac it was a bit eye opening as he learned not only what had been going on beyond Sweet Apple Acres, but exactly what Braeburn’s preferences were; suddenly a few times skinny dipping in the creek together started to make a lot more sense. It gave them both peace of mind, which was more than they could have hoped for during this trip.

“So you two,” Braeburn said to break the quiet, “Ah believe y’all have been filled in on what I’ve been doin’. Now how about ya do the same for me? What exactly are ya doin’ coming all this way to enter y’all selves into a pet show and with a caribou trailin’ ya like a dog after a bone.”

“Well… it’s gonna sound stupid sayin’ it out loud.” answered Mac.

“Darn foolish when ya get down to it.” Applejack added.

“Ya see, we’ve been tryin’ to get AJ a red collar in order to… well… try to do something similar to what you're doin’”

“Ah don’t think that’s foolish at all,” Braeburn said, tossing a stick into the fire, “As y’all have seen I’ve done it a few times myself. It makes things easier in its own way, since reds tend to get treated better for doing things they would’ve been forced to otherwise. Plus no pony thinks twice when you start givin’ a red collar more responsibilities and privileges.”

There it was again, another male saying that things would be better if he went through with this plan. Gunne, Mr. Cake, and Braeburn; three people with different motivations and different ways of doing things all saying the same thing. It left little doubt to Mac that he had been doing the right thing, and in a way that made him happy.

“Braeburn, now that you know your cousin isn’t like the rest, isn’t there something that you wanted to ask him?” said Strongheart, who was sitting aside Braeburn, as she slowly removed the sex toys that she had been wearing all day.

“Right… Ya see Mac, Ah was wantin’ to see iffin’ ya would like to join in on a little venture with me.”

“Of course, what do ya want?” Mac asked, curious as to what way he could help. If there was anything that he could do to assist his cousin after what he had done for the Apples on the whole then the clydesdale wanted to know.

“Well to tell the truth, it ain’t easy keepin’ so many of our kin here in one spot. There’s always cost to it. Keeping them fed, sheltered, buying pills to make sure they don’t get knocked up by some random stallion. The money we get from sales an’ the reds putting themselves out lets us stay it the green, but each time Ah want to get a new one ah have to worry about what that will do further down the line. Sooner or later I’ll have to stop just to keep from goin’ under, and that’s not fair to the rest of our family out there that deserve more than what’s given to them. So since you’ve got lots of land and what sounds like not enough workers, I’d like ya to go out and buy up a few Apples yourself.”

The idea Braeburn suggested pleased Mac to no end, “Of course. A-Ah wouldn’t be happier doin’ otherwise.” It was perfect, and something that Mac had wished that he had come up with himself sooner. If he took in the mares he would be able to make a much better home for them than even Braeburn, as Gunne knew how he felt and he wouldn’t have to be as harsh with the ones he kept.

“Now Mac, Ah wanna give ya a few warnings before ya go into this all headstrong. We all know how ya like to take on more responsibility that ya can handle sometimes.”

“What kind of warnings?” Mac wondered aloud.

“Well they’re more like a set of rules to follow when tryin’ to purchase one of the mares from our family. First off, never get one that’s already gone red.” Braeburn said with the utmost of seriousness.

“Why not?”

“Ah got an idea why,” said AJ, “It’s cause they can’t be trusted, right?”

“Applejack is right,” Braeburn confirmed, “As much as it hurts me to say it, we have no idea what to make of Apples that have red collars put on them by anypony other than ourselves. Like Apple family cider, all it would take is one bad apple to ruin things for everyone.”

“Ah see,” Mac said, disappointed that both AJ and Braeburn agreed on this point, ”Then what else do ya got to warn me about?”

“One other thing really, somethin’ that a matter of dealin’ with other stallions. Ah know this is a hard one, but don’t let them talk ya into overpaying for a mare.”

“Overpaying?” Mac didn’t understand that word in this context, as allowing a mare to have a relatively peaceful life would be worth any price.

“What Ah mean is that there will always be that stallion out there that’ll want to take ya for a ride, and they’ll try to squeeze every bit they can out of ya. Money that ya might need to keep the home you’re trying to provide for the mares y’all are trying to save. Sometimes it’s just them testin’ ya to see iffin’ they can get away with more than ya are offerin’, an’ other times they are just askin’ for too much. Which ever one it is ya are just gonna have to know when to say no and accept the loss.”

“That seems like a pretty bleak way of lookin’ at things.” said Mac.

“Well times are pretty bleak, and we have to use every trick we can to keep ahead.” Reaching into his pocket, Braeburn pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it off gave it to Strongheart to pass along to Applejack, “But Ah have been at this for some time now an’ have already found some of the perfect candidates to join your farm.”

Strongheart extended her arm to Applejack to hand off the note, but instead of taking the piece of paper AJ instead took hold of the buffalo’s wrist, pulling the arm out of the shawl she was wearing to take a better look at the tattoos she bore. “Pardon mah forwardness, but what’s the deal with these?”

Strongheart didn’t attempt to pull away, nor did she scold Applejack for grabbing her without permission. Instead she let farm mare look them over to see the tiny murals depicted upon her. The scenes of buffalo preparing for battle, of their confrontation with the caribou, their inevitable defeat and the subjugation that followed. “It is a reminder… of my eternal shame.”

AJ released Strongheart’s wrist shortly after, having to use the hand to cover a gasp escaping her mouth. The images that the girl had etched into her skin were a retelling of the ordeal the buffalo had to go through when it was their turn to face the invaders of Equestria, the images speaking better than words ever could.

As she got her arm back, Strongheart made no effort to conceal them back underneath her shawl. In fact she did the exact opposite, setting the garment aside to allow nothing to hinder the view of the ponies who knew not of what had happened. “Not long after Canterlot had fallen to the caribou, they came to Appaloosa to further lay claim on the lands of Equestria. Our people had to make a choice when we heard of what they had done, and of what they would do to the ponies that we had come to call our friends. As proud warriors we decided to take a stand against these tyrants, to push them back and show them that they couldn’t just have their way.”

Strongheart lifted up her arm, pointing to the depiction of the buffalo fighting with the caribou. “For a short time it seemed as if we would be able to hold them off, our own strength and knowledge of the area allowing us to act as a line of protection for the city and its inhabitants, their magic that changed the stallions to sex crazed beasts not having any effect on us. But then…” Strongheart’s finger moved along the back end of her arm to the front, stopping on image of a female buffalo amongst an orchard of trees, a group of pegasi surrounding and netting her. “Somehow a few got past the guards standing watch, three or four stallions under the caribou’s command snuck in and captured a single member of my people… me.”

The buffalo girl moved her finger up a row, scrolling over a solid black line that separated the two parts and before she stopped on an image of the girl that was supposed to be her trapped in a dungeon, wrists tied to a bar above her head as several ponies used her sexually, “They took me to the Crystal Empire, were I was forced to fuck any stallion that wished to use my body. When I wasn’t being raped they took turns torturing me physically. Snapping a whip across my back, shocking me with their batons, depriving me of sleep and piercing parts of me so they could get information on my tribe and their tactics. As much as I tried to resist I eventually slipped things out little by little, and as the chief's daughter I knew everything they wanted to know.”

With another movement of her finger she went circled around to the back of her arm, where the tattoos showed the buffalo’s defeat, “I wasn’t there for the battle, but I heard how easily my people were conquered using the information I provided and I know what happened afterwards. My people were rounded up and the caribou were finally able to move into Appaloosa’s borders.”

“And Ah can tell ya that we didn’t last long once they got that far.” said Braeburn, breaking Strongheart’s narrative for a moment. “Mares were being lined up in the streets and taken against their will within the hour.”

“And with the town taken, the caribou had to do something with my people. They couldn’t use their spell to convert us to their ideals, and lacking cutie marks they couldn’t blank us either, but there was one other thing they had left that still affected our kind.”

Putting two and two together, back came to a conclusion that he dreaded. If the buffalo couldn’t be converted like ponies and were still resistant even after defeat, there was only one thing the caribou would do with males like that. The lack of male buffalo in Appaloosa supported the theory too. “They switched them, didn’t they?”

“Many of the buffalo slaves you saw in town were once the males of my tribe. I had to watch as they put into that machine the caribou have and changed before my eyes, stripped of their gender for their defiance. When they were completely transformed they were taken aside and forced to their knees before the soldiers that defeated them, fitted with devices that held their mouths open, and made to take their cocks down their throats as a beginning of their new lives as sex slaves.”

Mac gulped, unnerved by what he was hearing. It was not a pleasant thing to hear happen to those who did all they could to keep the caribou at bay, and something that could have so easily happened to him as well. “What happened after that?” It could not have ended there, not since the buffalo could only be switched in Canterlot and they seemed to mostly be in Appaloosa.

“After they were done initiating us as their new playthings they tied most of us to their warbeasts and forced us into a slow and arduous journey back here, made to trudge along with our legs chained together so we couldn’t try to escape. They only gave us small breaks as we were paraded through city after city, barely enough time to catch our breath, but were never allowed to sleep or eat as ponies tossed garbage and called us names. Sometimes they left a few of us behind. I’m not sure exactly what happen to those ones, as I could only hear screams of terror or rage as the rest of us were led away and they were crowded by the stallions of those cities, but any guess I could make would probably not be far off. Our homecoming was no better; the first few weeks we were pinned up in corrals, left bound up, exposed to the elements, and helpless there so any stallion in the city could have open access to any one of us. Then things they put on us to prevent us from fighting back made it so all we could do to get around was crawl on our elbows and knees. They didn’t even allow us to even eat their dirt flavored food without us first drinking down a bowl of sperm, and unless it rained, the only way to get water was to allow yourself to get fucked while begging for their amusement. We had very little to look forward to as the days went on, but when the caribou soldiers were finally called away from the city it was something to be thankful for.”

“Is that when they gave ya… those?” Applejack asked Strongheart.

The buffalo girl gave a single nod of her head, “Before leaving us to the men of Appaloosa, the caribou then ‘honored’ us all with these tattoos to show our history through their eyes, to remind us all of how we fought and failed. It didn’t stop there though, or at least not with the stallions it didn’t, as they found these markings amusing. Our new masters started to add to them when they felt it was needed, expanding on the history of each individual.”

As Strongheart went on she placed her finger on an image of her and a few others atop a wooden block, standing before a crowd of stallions. “This was given to me the day before I was auctioned off to the highest bidder, no longer having any value to the caribou except as just another female to be treated as property. As I stood there in front of those prying eyes, each pony placing bids so they could have me as their property, I heard Braeburn’s voice come over the crowd, giving a price that no other stallion would dare to compete against.”

“For all that her people tried to do for us, Ah couldn’t just let her go to somepony who would mistreat her.” Braeburn cut in once more. ”Heck, it would’ve be to one of the same ponies her people tried to protect, and that just wouldn’t have been fair.”

“And with Braeburn as my master I was able to get a red collar to ease my suffering, even though I don’t really deserve it after what I did…” Strongheart moved her finger across one last dividing line, a red one this time, and point at an image of herself bowing down before a stallion, one that had to be Braeburn by the way she was explaining, that bled into a depiction of her being re-collared with the red band she wore around her neck. “We commemorated the event with these to prove to everyone that I had been ‘broken’, and I became Braeburn’s personal assistant.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” stated Applejack, as she knew that it could not have been easy for the buffalo when she was held prisoner in the Crystal Empire, “I’m just relieved that they didn’t really convert ya and all that hooey you were talking about in town wasn’t true.”

“You mean about how ‘I apologize for my people’s behavior’ and ‘hope they can become well trained’?” Strongheart asked to confirm what the mare was talking about. “Of course not, who talks like that? Braeburn just came up with that speech because he thought that the caribou would like hearing me say it.”

Applejack felt silly doubting Strongheart as she had, her own prejudice towards the red collars blinding her from seeing the truth behind the facade. She had to stop doing that, as most of the time that she made that judgement of late she had been told later that she had been wrong about her assumptions. She needed to start looking at the reasons that a mare decided to wear a red collar, as perhaps their own tale was not too different from her own.

As AJ sat there, watching the buffalo from a few feet away, she could see Strongheart start to shiver and hold herself tightly. The night air was chilly, but that wasn’t what this was about. There was something more to it that the mare could see on her face. “But… I didn’t leave that dungeon they kept me in without them taking their toll on me.” said Strongheart, leaning into Braeburn as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, “My body craves sex now… sometimes I can’t control myself as it gets so bad. It’s the reason I walk around with all those… things… on my body and inside me. Other times I get urges... of being with Braeburn, or another stallion… or even other women.” Strongheart willed her body to stop and scooted closer to Braeburn, the yellow stallion placing an arm around her body to comfort the troubled buffalo.

“Ah have been doin’ what Ah can to wean her off of that need, and it has gotten a lot better over time, but we’re not sure it will ever get better fully.” The pity in Braeburn’s voice was almost tangible; he clearly worried for Strongheart as much as Mac would for any of the mares on his own farm. The pain of seeing someone you cared for in such a state was a special sort of misery, and this reminded Mac of that feeling as well. Things had been going so smoothly as of late that he had almost forgotten that no matter how much his sister went along with this, she was still a victim.

Mac got off of the log he was using as a seat and went over to take the note Strongheart had offered before. With the paper in hand, he planted himself next to Braeburn and opened it up in front of him. He would probably need help to understand whatever his cousin wanted him to see; Braeburn had already showed that he was far ahead in the game compared to the clydesdale. “So what do ya got here for me?” Mac looked at the list of names he held, each one a female relative and followed by a location.

“Those are mares Ah want you to track down an’ purchase for your farm. Ah don’t expect ya to do it immediately, but do what ya can when ya can. If Ah get the money I’ll give it to ya as a ‘loan’ to keep ponies from thinkin’ I’m taken favor on a female sympathizer, but right now things are tight here.”

So that was it, rescue any Apple mares they could when they had the ability to and pray that they weren’t too late for any of them. Not the best plan, but it seemed to work out for Braeburn so far. As he skimmed the list, Mac wondered who exactly he should go after first. He wasn’t gonna be able to get them all at once, so he’d have to make a choice in the order. Decide on which ones he thought had the will to hold out compared to those who didn’t. As he stopped on the name of a mare that he had seen not to long ago, that he knew was up to her ears in trouble, he folded up the the sheet and pocketed it. He had made his choice, and he could only hope it was the best one in a decision that had no right one.

“Whelp, Ah think that we all oughta hit the hay,” said Braeburn, “Y’all got a pet show to go to in the morning, and Ah still got a farm to run. Strongheart, do ya mind showin’ cousin Applejack to the guest room? With what she’ll have to do tomorrow Ah think she deserves a night in an actual bed.” Braeburn helped Strongheart get herself up, the buffalo taking light steps at first to assure herself that she would be able to walk with her knees weakened by her urges. When she felt confident, she took Applejack by the hand and headed to the farmhouse, bidding Braeburn goodnight as the two girls disappeared into the darkness.

“Ya did right with that one Braeburn,” Mac said in complement, “Ah bet she’s grateful for everything ya have done for her.”

“It’s not not about gettin’ gratitude,” Braeburn corrected, “It’s about protectin’ those closest to ya.”

“Ah didn’t mean it that way… I’m just… not exactly good with words ya know…”

“Ah know,” Braeburn gave his cousin a pat on the back, “But if there is one thing ya got to be good at now, it’s keepin’ those under your watch safe.”

“Well Ah get that,” Mac replied, “There is no way I’ll let anything bad happen to an Apple, ah promise.”

“Good, then Ah can tell ya the last an’ most important rule to this plan.”

Mac was surprised to hear that Braeburn had another rule left, and one that he had apparently wanted to keep Applejack from knowing about. “What is that?”

“If it ever comes down to ya havin’ to do the right thing for the wrong reasons and the wrong thing for the right reasons… always do the wrong thing. Even if ya have to become a monster an’ do somethin’ unspeakable, do it if there are no other options. It’s the way this world works right now an’ somethin’ you’ll have to accept.”

Mac understood what his cousin was getting at, since the only way he could do what Braeburn was doing now was because he had “become a monster” like the rest of the stallions. The clydesdale wasn’t sure if he could do the same though, not to the degree that Braeburn had.

“I’ll do what Ah can.” Mac answered.

“Do what ya must,” Braeburn stressed as he got up, leaving Mac to put out the bonfire, “Cause one day ya might find that ya have to.”