Ponies write Erotica

A gentle, but forceful rap at the door resounded about the recently upgraded Library.

“Humph.” Twilight humphed, humphing. “The Plebeians must be demanding my attention.”

She threw on her diamond-studded cape, clutching her cane. She carefully trotted to the door, opening it to reveal her good friend Applejack.

“Oh, well Hello, Applejack!” she said, throwing her cane in a different direction. “What can I do for you?”

“Twi, can I talk to you?”

“Why sure, Applejack! Come on in!” she said, extending her hoof as an invitation. She threw her diamond studded cape into a pile labeled “Used-throw away” and took a seat on her Dragonskin couch. “What can I do for you?”

“Well...” Applejack started, fidgeting in her seat, trying to get comfortable.

“Autographed copies are 20 bits.”

“What? No, Sugarcube, I didn’t come here for that. The girls have been talking and we’ve noticed your success. We were wondering if, perhaps...there were any pointers you wanted to give us? We think it’d be great to write erotica together. You know, as a great...um...friendship...lesson...thing. To Celestia.”

“Well, I suppose that could be a good idea, but Honey, We can’t collaborate. My publisher made that very clear. However, I do know that you’re just trying to freeride off my success! Now, if you want to write erotica, go ahead. I can’t stop you. But not everybody likes the same writing style. I mean, my publisher said that my novel was so popular because it was a “Trollfic”. I don’t remember putting trolls in there, but I guess it’s some weird publishing term I’m not aware of. Many people hate my novel. Lots like it. Just write your own thing.Just Do something that you know bitches will love.”

“Well...Ok, Sugarcube. We just feel it might be getting to your head a bit also.”

“Well of course it is! Have you SEEN my new crown?”

“Twilight, that’s not a good thing.”

“Are you mocking me, Plebeian?”

“Plebeian? Twilight, I just came to let you know you were an inspiration and-”

“SILENCE! Do not patronize me!”

“I wasn’t-”

“Leave!” she shouted, pointing towards the door. Applejack got on all fours, huffing.

“You know what? FINE! We’ll ALL write our own novels and they’ll all be BETTER THAN YOURS!”

“Good!”

“Fine!” she yelled, stomping out the door. Twilight slammed it behind her, laying back down on the couch. She had nearly broken a sweat.

“Jenkins?” she called. A Butler pony soon trotted in.

“Yes, Madam Sparkle?”

“Please make me the usual.”

“Already prepared, Madam.” he said, handing her a glass. She smiled.

“Thank you, Jenkins. Country folk just have no respect for how hard it is to find a butler named Jenkins.”

“Certainly not, Madam.”

***

“But Sis, I wanna know!”

“Absolutely not, Applebloom! This is not the kind of book a filly like you should be readin’!”

“Then why are you writin’ it?”

“It’s for Princess Celestia. Now SHOO!”

“Aw...” Applebloom hung her head low, trotting out the door, shutting it behind her. Applejack sighed, staring at the blank page before her. What could she write about? She had to one-up Twilight, that was for sure, but could she realistically do that?
“Just stick to what you know, Applejack...” she said. reassuring herself. “What do I know more about anything?” She took a bite of an apple she had on her desk, a snack for the night. “What do I know about erotica?”

“Next to nothin’.” said Big McIntosh, poking his head in the door. Applejack slammed her head on the desk.

“You don’t count! That was ONCE!”

“Twice.”

“Get the fuck out of my room.”

Big Mac chuckled, closing her door again. Applejack was drawing blanks on materials. She had nothing to write about. What did bitches like? Something that bitches liked...

“Winona!” she called, embarrassed. “Come here, girl!” She heard Winona scamper up the stairs, panting.

“Yes, AJ?” she asked. “Are we going to play fetch?”

“Is that what bitches like?”

“...what?” she asked, confused. She cocked her head.

“Long story. What do bitches like? I’m writing a novel.”

“Well, I like playing fetch. Rounding up cattle with you...bones. I like chewing on bones, that’s for sure. I like tummy rubs, licking faces...”

“Erotic wise.”

“Erotic? Like...when I’m in heat?”

“Yes. What’s a bitch in heat like?”

“Uh. I like fetch. Tummy rubs, chewing on bones.”

“Mkay, what about sex wise?”

“Well. My mating rituals are just a little different than yours, pony.”

“They are?”

“Actually...” she started, snickering. “No, they’re not. What you really need is a guy with a nice knot.”

“Knot?”

“Yeah.”

“I...ok.”

“Trust me. Bitches love big knots. Keeps him in place.”

“I don’t remember any of this from Ponyville sex ed...”

“Well, who are you going to believe? Country-mandated education or a bitch with tons of experience?”

“...tons?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re the only dog I’ve ever seen, Winona. Where the hell are you finding dudes?”

“It’s a secret. Now, shouldn’t you be writing?”

“This makes no sense, Winona.” started AJ. Winona snickered and walked out the door, calling for Applebloom to play catch with her. Applejack stared. She was so confused. Tummy rubs, knots, bones...what the hell was she fixing to create? With great reluctance, she took the feather in her mouth, dipped it in the well, and started writing.

Country Bumpkin kicked his hind legs into the tree behind him, with the force of a stallion, which he happened to be. Apples fell from the tree into the cleverly laid baskets below. He wiped his forehead, admiring his work. However, there was one apple, way at the top of the tree that had stayed. Bumpkin smirked, turning around and kicking the tree with the full force of his muscular stallion body again. The apple, as stubborn as a mule, if a mule was stuck in a tree, stayed stuck in the tree, stubbornly. With one last heave, he kicked one last time. The apple fell on his head, rolling away. He cringed and closed his eyes in pain, head on the ground. He heard a soft, gentle giggle. He peeked an eye open, seeing a beautifully stunning Orange Mare. She was as tall as 4’6 pony.

“That’s not how you buck, Man.” she said, giving him a seemingly mischievous smile. Her coat glistened in setting sun, seemingly moist from a hard day’s work, much like that of a wet, moist, succulent apple.

“I’ve been bucking for my entire life. I know how to buck.”

“I’ve been bucking those sturdy, hard wood pieces for a long time, too, Stranger.” she said, casually trotting over to the very same tree, kicking it with one leg. More than 100 apples fell from the tree into their corresponding baskets. Bumpkin stared at her with his mouth agape. “See? Easy.”

“I...” he started. He grabbed an apple from the ground and tossed it up and down in his hoof. “HERE GIRL! GO GET IT!” he started. The orange mare jumped around, tongue out, excited. He released the apple and she galloped away, clutching it in her mouth, running back to him excitedly. He smiled, taking the apple from her. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Farmer’s Daughter.”

“Hm. You’re kind of cute.”

“Rub my belly.” she said, immediately rolling on her back. Bumpkin smiled, giving her a bone, rubbing her belly. She happily gnawed away as he rubbed in concentric circles, occasionally patting and whispering “Good girl!” Farmer’s Daughter spread her legs wider than they were before, revealing a moist cellar door. Farmer’s Daughter gave him a mischievous nod and he moved his face towards it, the faint smell of Pink Lady apples wafting about. He smiled and prodded it with his nose as she wriggled in the sudden ecstasy of his nose. Noses were sexy to her. She didn’t know why. She had little time to reflect on that as her second favorite fetish, tongues, soon forced its way inside her. She squirmed against the tree behind her as Bumpkin gently lapped at her cellar door, an astounding taste of apple cider squirting from her juice container.

“Omnomnonasd!” she said, before spitting out her bone. “Bumpkin...you’re going to make me get rid of my entire stock of cider!” she panted, her legs convulsing.

“Shh...” he said, gently trailing kisses up her belly, gently licking the tip of her cherry sized teats on the way. He shoved his tongue down her throat as he prepared his meat cucumber for cellar storage.

“Do it.” she taunted. He thrust his cucumber inside her cider cellar. It was a confused cucumber, clearly, because he kept stepping in and out out the cellar, unsure of what exactly he wanted to do, until he made himself sick.

“Hold on!” he said, suddenly getting up, galloping away. He came back with a rope, staring her dead in the eyes. He shoved the rope in her cellar, working both of his hooves inside there, shortly before tying a knot.

“Oh, Bumpkin!” she said, panting. Cider had begun to squirt from her cellar as she quivered, on the verge of pure cider ecstasy. He cinched the rope shut, creating a large, tight knot that would stay inside her forever, keeping her in place.

“Stay there.” he said, panting. Suddenly, his Cucumber burst with juice, as it was supposed to, combining with her cider flood, creating a nice, foaming, frothy mixture of sexual deliciousness drenching the both of them. Bumpkin rolled over on the ground, panting, looking over at Farmer’s Daughter.

“Told you I knew how to buck.”

“I might need a second opinion.” she said, winking.

“Well, I’ll be back after I finish the orchard.” he said, getting up. With a knot like his inside her, she wasn’t going anywhere. He would be back for more and more.

***
Applejack awoke on her desk. She lifted her head up, finding that one page had stuck to the side of her face. She yawned heavily, blowing out the already dead candle, and tiredly trotted her way to her bed, gently slipping under the covers, ready for a nap in a far more comfortable spot than what she had just woken up in.

“Applejack, Granny wants to-” started Applebloom, opening the door. Applejack was already sound asleep. “Humph. Figures.” she said, beginning to close the door shortly before noticing the stack of papers on the desk. She looked over at applejack, before quietly tip-hoofing her way over to the papers, taking a read for herself.

“What in the Hay am I reading?” she asked herself. “Maybe Granny can make sense of this.”

***
Applejack snapped awake, taking a deep inhale. She yawned heavily, groggily trodding her way out of bed. She exited her room, heading down the stairs, suddenly hearing the rest of her family talking.

“I’m still tryin’ to figure out what the rope was for.” said Applebloom. “What’s the knot doing anywhere?” she added, as Winona laughed in the background.

“Well, Dearie, I’m not exactly sure...” started Granny Smith. “I uh...all I know is that this story makes me moist.”

“GRANNY!” shouted Big McIntosh,

“Don’t act surprised. Just because the cogs are rusty doesn’t mean they don’t work.”

Applejack swallowed a knot in her throat and headed into plain view.

“What...whatcha guys reading?”

“I dunno. Applebloom just handed it to me. It appears to be some story about rope and apple cider. But Holy shit does it make me horny.”

“GRANNY!” cried Applebloom, her face nearly as red as her mane.

“GIVE ME THAT!” shouted Applejack, ripping the papers away. “THIS WAS MEANT FOR CELESTIA! IT’S A FRIENDSHIP LESSON!”

“You have some strange friends. I expected Rainbow to be the lesbian, not you.” said Big Mac.

“I’m not a lesbian!”

“Well, you’re sexting Celestia. And Twilight, apparently.”

“It’s complicated!” she said, galloping off to her room, tears in her eyes.

“Oh, she’ll get over it.” said Granny. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Granny has to go make some cider for the first time in 30 years.”