Applejack didn't come to collect Lucky for lunch that day. She sent three of her guards instead. This was only slightly an improvement.

A little over an hour after he'd finally gotten his plow upright and started moving again, slowed by the sharp pain in his chest whenever he took a breath, he heard the playful chatter of three mares ambling unhurriedly towards him. At first he kept going, not wanting to appear a slacker, but he slowed when he recognized two of the voices: Lyra and Bon Bon. He could afford to relax a little around these two, if only because they were usually much more interested in each other.

Friendship was in bloom in Ponyville. As long as you stuck to the streets, away from the fields and the workshops where the stallions were kept, the place had never looked happier. Mistress Twilight's "Safety In Numbers!" program had exploded in popularity. Through outreach workshops if necessary, mares had grouped themselves into inseparable clusters of three to six, spending every waking moment of their lives together. Lives which, as of the Reign, had become much easier. Anyone who'd had a husband or boyfriend before suddenly had a free source of income and labor instead, and becoming the legal "Matron" for any unclaimed stallion was as easy as filling out a form. A sudden drop in prices and new supply of free, empty houses meant that mares rarely had to work any more, only keeping up their jobs when they felt like it. And for those who didn't have a stallion to support them but didn't want a job that would take them away from their BFFs, well, there was always being a guard.

It didn't take much to be a guard, no skills required. They were given the standard weapons and tools, but most probably didn't know how to fight. However, any stallion who tried to overpower his captors quickly learned that the real danger wasn't the mares themselves, but the twenty more who would come running at the first sound of a high-pitched scream. By contrast, stallions were generally kept separate as much as possible, so organizing an escape was near to impossible. The only one that Lucky had heard of had been in the first month, and those responsible had been... made examples of. That was when the results of the purple collar program had come to light.

There were no more escape attempts after that.

There was no standard uniform for guards, either, which was especially apparent when the trio came into view. They were the regular pegasus-unicorn-earth pony combo, the latter two still chatting loudly and not paying attention to Lucky at all. Bon Bon had stuck with an old, modest sundress that fell past her knees, while Lyra had embraced the new fashion, wearing a shimmering silk wrap that flowed and exposed different parts of her middle as she walked. Their third, Derpy Hooves, trailed after them in what appeared to be a mismatched cheerleading uniform, complete with pompoms. "Good morning, ladies," Lucky said respectfully, keeping an eye on the position of the sun. "Isn't it a little early?"

They didn't answer. "You know I've always worn this," Bon Bon said to Lyra, unrolling a long leash from around her shoulder. "I'm not going to change it just because everyone else is changing."

"Come on, you need to get with the times," Lyra answered. She shrugged off another leash and then ran a finger down her side. "You would not believe how good this feels against my skin. Plus, it makes my rack look a-ma-zing." She thrust out her chest and wiggled. "Totally fuckable, right?"

"Lyra!" Bon Bon covered her mouth and pretended to look away as her friend shook her boobs at her. "...Not in front of the stallion," she flustered.

"Aw, he likes it. Don't ya?" Lyra turned and jiggled in Lucky's direction as well, smirking.

Lucky crimsoned as he realized that he, too, had been staring. "They're very nice, ma'am," he said carefully, desperately trying to keep eye contact.

"See?" Lyra sidled closer to her friend, who was blushing as well. "And I know yours are even better than mine."

She wasn't wrong. All three of the mares had clearly been affected by the new diet, which was based primarily around a fat, puffy vegetable the caribou had brought with them from their homeland. Lucky had never seen one himself, but he had heard that it was supposed to grow exceptionally well in the more temperate climate and "enhance natural beauty" in anyone who ate them. Of course, it hadn't occurred to anyone until much later that the caribou's cultural definition of beauty might not be the same as it was in Equestria, but even though half the town had had to order new bras, demand for the plant didn't go down. Bon Bon's loose-fitting dress wasn't so loose in places, and even Derpy was nearly bursting out of her top. Bizarrely, it was only Lyra, in her alien getup, who looked natural. (All three of them were definitely working for Lucky, though.)

"We'll... we'll compare cup sizes later," Bon Bon said. She clipped the end of her leash to Lucky's collar and tugged sharply. Immediately, Lucky's airway closed.

The leashes were designed to choke their victim at the slightest tug. If you saw it coming it was tempting to hold your breath, but the guards were permitted (read: encouraged) to kick stallions in the stomach if they even suspected that they were trying to fake a positive result. Lucky resigned himself to being strangled, involuntarily twitching and gasping for breath until Bon Bon was satisfied that he couldn't breathe.

Lyra then clipped her leash on and tested hers as well, this time not letting go until Lucky collapsed onto one knee. "Awesome," she chuckled, then held up a hand as Derpy started to circle around his back. "Hang on. He's got a problem."

Amidst deep gasps for air, Lucky followed her gaze down. Despite several minutes of leg-shuffling, he hadn't been able to work his loose testicle back into his pouch. "I had a fall earlier," he quickly explained, bracing himself.

"Yeah, whatever. Let me get that for you." Before he knew what was happening, Lyra was on her knees. He craned her neck, closed her eyes and lapped at the air, then stretched her lips wide and took Lucky's sweaty, muddy ball into her mouth.

The pressure was overwhelming. Lucky felt his blood rush to his dick, but the faint grazing of teeth gave a very clear answer to what would happen if he presented any trouble, any excuse to act on half the kingdom's gendered paranoia. With all his willpower, he forced himself to look away from the unbelievably hot mare on her knees in front of him and up at her steely-eyed friend with her hands on both his leashes. Caramel. Clown costume. Apple Bloom punching me in the balls. That was a good one. He would remember that for a while.

Once she was satifsied, Lyra used her teeth to pull Lucky's pouch back into place, smoothing it down with a few licks. "Delicious," she cooed, drawing herself up against his muscular front. "You're welcome."

"Th-thank you, ma'am," Lucky answered, trying not to stare at her lips.

"Lyra, you are such a slut!" Bon Bon complained as her friend walked back.

"Come on, he liked it. And you definitely like it." She smirked and took her leash. "Derpy, you got him?"

Derpy, who had been staring out at the landscape, jerked to attention. "Huh? Oh! I got him!" She pulled a key from her bosom and ran behind Lucky. After a few seconds and some loud clicks, Lucky's restraints pinged away from him. He wormed his arms out of the harness and carefully removed the bit from his mouth, making sure not to cut himself more on the thin wire. After spending so long with his arms raised he tried not to lower them right away, instead taking two staggering steps forward still posed with them perpendicular. Lyra and Bon Bon laughed at his posture and then trotted leisurely away, forcing him to stumble and stagger after them to avoid being choked.

He'd barely made it a few steps when Derpy landed heavily on his back. "Carry me!" she yelled, flapping her wings to keep herself up on him.

"Derpy!-" Lucky quickly caught her legs, wincing as the sudden movement made his arms seize up in pain. "Not today, please," he begged, all the while trying to keep her from falling and not slow his pace. "I can't breathe, and I think my rib's hurt, and-"

In response, Derpy just wrapped her arms over his shoulders and nuzzled the side of his head. "You're my favorite," she told him.

His heart melted. "Yeah, alright," he mumbled. He adjusted his grip on her legs and marched on.

They made their way off the field and on to the dryer path, towards the barn. Up front, Lyra was still talking about her silk wrap. "Look, the mud just slides right off," she said, bending over to demonstrate. Lucky had to admit, it looked even better from behind.

"This isn't about that," Bon Bon argued. "I'm not saying you don't look hot. I just like my dresses." She thought carefully. "If the new Era of Freedom means that you're allowed to wear something like that without being judged, shouldn't that mean that I should be allowed to wear what I've always worn without you trying to force your new preferences on me?"

"Come on, that's BS. You're just used to wearing that because you had to, back when it wasn't safe to show off your assets. Tender Buttons says a mare isn't really happy with her body until she's comfortable showing it off."

"That's silly. No one ever had that problem until after she made it up."

"Aw, Bon Bon, don't be like that." Lyra's voice became coy. "You have an amazing body. And I just want to know that you're happy in it."

"I am happy in my body."

"Then why won't you let anyone see it?"

Bon Bon couldn't answer, but came to a halt and stammered. Lyra stopped beside her, Lucky a safe distance back. "Maybe you just need a little reminder," Lyra said slyly, swishing her tail against Bon Bon's ass.

"Lyra, no."

"In fact, maybe I should just..." She scooted closer. "Tear that dress off of you!"

"Lyr-ah!" The name turned into a cry as Lyra buried her face against her neck, nibbling and nuzzling down into her cleavage. "We can't! The st-stallion..." she protested feebly.

Lyra tossed her leash back without looking. "Derpy, choke him if he moves," she instructed, then dove back in.

"Kay!" Derpy yelled, grabbing the end.

Bon Bon let a strap be slid off her shoulder, and her protests were turning into longer and longer moans. Lucky just stood awkwardly. He wondered if he might be allowed to sit down, or at least turn away, when the decision was made for him. As Lyra dragged Bon Bon to the ground her leash dragged Lucky as well, bringing him crashing to his knees. Instantly, the vise tightened around his throat again. He choked, trying to get a word of warning out, but both mares were occupied; Bon Bon's fist remained tight, and her other hand scrabbled for purchase on the grassy road as Lyra's tongue roamed further and further down her engorged bosom. Derpy seemed oblivious to both events, happily humming a tune to herself. Lucky released her legs and swatted at the leash, but his stallion hands simply passed through the dark material. The world began to swim and darken in front of his eyes. It was only the fortune of a reaching green finger that caused Bon Bon to shriek and release the leash and allow Lucky to gasp and dry-heave onto the road in front of him.

Even after the danger had passed, he kept his eyes firmly downward. Even given who he was dealing with, this was more out of self-preservation than a sense of decency; he needed to be in Applejack's good books right now. A tan hoof snaked into his field of vision, erotically curled. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on Derpy's humming, anything to block out the sounds of two mares having sex right in front of him. She'd wrapped her legs around him and was bobbing her head in time to her own music, flapping her wings every few beats. He almost thought he recognized the tune.

She was innocent, if only through obliviousness. Compared to the treatment he usually got, it was sweet. He almost felt sorry for her, stuck with these friends practically from another world. But as a duet of moans crashed against his ears, her body started to feel hotter and hotter against him. Her soft breasts were like pillows against his sore back, tender nipples massaging him. He put his hands under her legs to support her and instantly regretted it, unable to stop himself from rubbing and squeezing her juicy thighs. His imagination lanced out before he could catch it and he knew that from this angle her tail would be lifting her short skirt up, panties fully visible... was she even wearing panties? The only way to know would be to let his hands shake, let her skirt ride up against him, and feel either the pressure of cotton or silk or a warm, wet snatch against his back, and her music seemed to be reaching a crescendo...

"Choo choo!" Derpy yelled, yanking hard on the leash. Lucky choked on his own thoughts and wheezed heavily, almost falling forward again. Oh, right. It's a song for foals about trains. He no longer felt sorry for her.

The tryst went on for about ten minutes, during which Bon Bon came twice, wailing like a steam engine herself across the hills. Both times Lucky braced himself for a stampede of mare hooves to come storming down and beat him into the dust, but apparently "orgasmic wail" didn't register on the farm's list of emergency codes. Every few verses Derpy would clamp down on his neck again, which provided a suitable enough distraction that he was able to tune the noises and sensations out. "We're so going to get in trouble," Bon Bon said once her breathing had subsided.

"Nah, Applejack's down for us getting down. It raises morale." Lyra stood up and brushed herself off, easily throwing her sparkling wrap around herself. "Besides, Mister Delicious here was a perfect gentlecolt. Weren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Lucky sighed, rising.

Bon Bon crawled upright, having more difficulty rearranging her dress from where it lay bunched around her middle. "This dress is ruined," she complained, putting her hand through a hole across the knee. "Everyone's going to stare at me."

"And they're going to love it," Lyra reassured her. She leaned Bon Bon back and kissed her deeply, then moved over to Lucky. "And our man here is the living proof of-" She slapped her hand onto his dick, stopping when she found it still soft. She rubbed it twice and then slapped both hands against his chest. "You're so boring!" she yelled, taking his leash from Derpy and whirling away with her nose in the air.

They finally reached the barn soon after. Applejack sat at a desk on a freshly-constructed balcony overhead, frustratedly struggling her way through a mountain of paperwork. It was generally assumed that she had placed her office there in the hopes that a stray wind would blow some papers away, forcing her to run after them; sadly, now that the weather team had been reduced by one third all winds were carefully regulated. "Hey, Applejack!" Lyra yelled up as they approached.

"What?" Applejack grunted back.

"Get rid of this one! He's boring!"

She leaned over her desk and stared down at them. Lucky couldn't help but feel that her gaze was piercing through him for longer than necessary. "I'll bear that in mind," she called down. "Now get him in. He's very late."

Instead of leading him all the way up to the door, Lyra and Bon Bon let go of their leashes, shoved him, and strutted off arm in arm. Derpy kissed his cheek, shimmied down his back, and hurried after. Lucky let his gaze follow her; her skirt fluttered as she skipped. She was wearing panties after all, but barely, and it stirred him to know that his hands had been so close to all that. He'd heard of a bubble butt, but this was ridiculous.

An impatient cough caught his ear, and he turned back to see Applejack leaning over at him again. She'd definitely seen him staring. With a blush and a resigned sigh, he trudged indoors.

Comet Tail was waiting on a stool at the entrance in a curtained-off area behind the door. He stood up as Lucky entered, running a quick eye over the bruises on his face and sides. He raised an eyebrow. "Again, Lucky?"

"Caramel set me up," Lucky grumbled.

"Whatever. Anything hurt?" Comet Tail's horn lit up. He was, to Lucky's knowledge, the only male unicorn on the farm, and thanks to his red collar, one of the few anywhere who was still allowed to use magic. He hadn't seen a black collar unicorn since the first day of the Reign; he wasn't entirely sure how that was possible, but he'd heard rumors.

"Just my chest," Lucky answered. "Applejack might have bruised my rib."

"You bruised your rib, Lucky. It's your job not to piss her off." He let a blue glow wash over Lucky's body, and with some focused pressure of his fingers he sealed cuts, brightened bruises, and plucked splinters. Of course, much of this healing also seemed to involve fondling areas which didn't have any injuries at all. Comet was all right for a red collar, but "for a red collar" was still the operative term. "Why don't you just let Caramel fuck you?" he said, predictably. "You know anything he can do to you won't be as bad as if you keep annoying Applejack."

"I don't swing that way, Comet. You know that." He winced as a hand pressed against his muscled chest. The tightness in his ribs diminished, but not by much. "They haven't got inside my head yet, and that's what keeps me going. Even if it hurts, I've gotta be me."

"If you say so. But you know what keeps me going?" Comet leaned in closer than was necessary. "A triple blowjob before breakfast and another over dinner."

"No thanks."

"Anal, every single time."

"I said no thanks."

"No judging, no power struggles, no pressure. No stupid mares telling you where you can and can't put it. Just two total equals getting it on."

"Seriously, if this didn't work on me the first dozen times..."

"Free choice of clothes from Carousel Boutique?"

This caught Lucky's attention. "What?"

"Yeah, that's new." Comet knelt down and started on Lucky's legs. "Mistress Rarity's got a surplus, so she's letting some reds come to her place and try things on. So long as we're being useful, we might as well look fabulous, right?" He winked up at Lucky. "Yeah, that got your attention. Only us red collars, though. I mean, everyone knows we dress way better than you."

Possibilities fluttered through Lucky's mind. He'd thrown off the idea of ever going back to the Boutique, he'd had nightmares about it, but if he could return not as a worker, but a visitor...

All this was immediately cut short when he felt Comet's hand press firmly against his crotch. "And all you have to do," he added, "is open yourself up to getting the best sex of your life..."

Lucky pulled away in disgust. His fantasies shriveled up as quickly as his junk. "Comet, for the last time, I'm not gay!" he yelled.

"Yeah, that's what I said at first," Comet said, leaning back on his haunches. "But a mouth on your dick is a mouth on your dick, right? You go through an awkward phase, everyone does, but by your second orgy you realize it doesn't matter. Once you get over that wall, you don't even miss pussy. Everything feels amazing."

"I said no," Lucky said. "And that's final."

Comet paused, his lips an inch from landing a kiss on Lucky's cock. His plaintive gaze met Lucky's glare and finally gave in. "All right," he sighed, scooting around to work up Lucky's back. "But you'll come around. Everyone does. And I'll look forward to it."

The back half went quicker; there wasn't much but the usual aches across the shoulders. "One last thing," Comet advised as he massaged him. He had to admit, this part did feel good. "Eat up quick. You're late, and we're due at the arena soon."

"What?" Lucky looked back. "That's not 'til Friday!"

"Sorry." Comet shrugged. "Schedule got moved up this morning."

"Shit." Lucky pulled away, wincing as the magic faded from the knots in his neck, and rushed for the curtains. "And, uh, thanks," he called back, then took a moment to brace himself and entered the barn proper.

As usual, the thing that hit him first was the smell.

There were no more walls or stalls in the barn; everything had been converted into one big space. In the middle of the room were two long troughs, one full of a yellowish gruel, the other water. Three black collar stallions were kneeling around the former, taking handfuls of what could loosely be described as "food" up to their mouths. One of them Lucky recognized, a former tennis player named Ace, who waved him over. Around this safe zone in the middle was a square drawn in thick red paint, slightly obscured by assorted debris, along with a thin path leading to the door. Black collars only had a limited time to eat, wash, and get back to work. If they stayed even a second too long, they would get dragged over that line... into the realm of the red collars.

Against the far wall, impossible to avoid seeing from the entrance, the massive form of Bulk Biceps sat against the wall on a bed of straw, effortlessly lifting Rough Tumble up and down on his intimidating cock. They both had their heads bent back, dopey smiles on their faces. All the while, Noteworthy lay on the ground and licked Bulk's hanging balls, simultaneously being sucked off by Mr. Breezy, who was himself being assfucked by Filthy Rich. (It was well known that Applejack had paid extra to have that particular stallion under her care.) On his other side, Night Watch furiously rode Time Turner, both of them staring at the food trough with fixed grins and silently counting. A dozen more stallions continued this pattern across both sides of the room in twos and threes and fours, filling the barn with moans and grunts and the smack of flesh on flesh from all sides. Wherever you looked an erect cock or dribbling asshole was in view, spraying spunk over the floor and each other, adding gleams to the mechanical, never-ending orgy. The blast of the scent of sex and shit could knock the uninitiated off their hooves.

With a gulp, Lucky hurried to the food trough, telling himself once again that it was all a mind game. The mares liked to get all the red collars together for lunch, but keep the blacks split up a few strangers at a time; even from the start, there'd been a conscious effort to make it seem like everyone had given in but them. Meeting faces he hadn't seen in a while, however, gave him hope. Ace he hadn't seen in weeks, and Meadow Song, who shuffled over to make room, he'd only met twice before.

"Do we have time?" he said quickly, kneeling down and putting a hand into the grainy muck. The texture was inconsistent, but mostly snotlike. "Comet Tail said-"

Ace waved him off. He was the brawniest of the four of them and had three leashes hanging from his neck instead of the usual two. "Don't worry about it," he said. "We have time. Applejack's not going anywhere until she's got those forms done. She's fucking useless without her brother doing them for her."

Lucky participated in a murmur of assent. "Where is Big Mac, anyway?" Prism Glider asked from Ace's left. He'd had his wings clipped and ruffled them constantly, unable to get over the intense wrongness of flapping but not being able to fly. "I haven't heard his thunderclaps in a while."

This was true; it had been a few days since the tree-shaking kicks of their strongest black collar had been heard echoing around the orchard. No one had an answer to this, so they resumed eating. Unable to stop himself as usual, Lucky lifted the first handful up to his nose, sniffed it experimentally, and had to hold in a gag while he swallowed. There were grains in there somewhere, and tiny squishes of what he could only pray had once been fruit, but the ingredients of the main, creamy part of it were unknowable. The mares liked to boast that it was high-protein, high-energy, and could get even the weakest stallion through the harshest day. The odds that it contained semen were almost certain - and that was before the red collars started aiming for the trough and adding some of their own. If the mares in charge had thought that this would help them get used to the taste, they were entirely wrong. At least the sniff test had him confident that no one had thrown up in the mix... this time.

After a minute to let Lucky get settled in, the group returned to their previous conversation, which, as usual, was a rousing game of What's The First Thing You're Gonna Do Once You're Free? "The first thing I'm gonna do when I'm free," Ace said in a low voice, making eye contact with the others in utter seriousness, "is rape that fucking bitch Applejack."

"Whoa, whoa!" Lucky said quickly, gesturing for quiet and making meaningful glances toward the walls. "If anyone hears you talking like that, you'll get a purple collar faster than you can-"

"I don't fucking care. It's the fucking truth." Ace kept his voice down, but put all his intensity in his eyes. "I'm sick and tired of grown stallions pussyfooting around. All princesses and wives and foot rubs and can I do anything else for you, mistress? That bitch broke Post Haste's leg yesterday. Another bitch laughed at him all the way to the hospital, and those bitches will stick his own leg up his ass before they try to fix it. To make him "safe" for them and their stupid fucking world order." He shook his head. "We work for them all our lives, we let them make the laws, we treat them like fucking goddesses, and all we ask in return is they help us get off once in a while. But instead, they sell us out and lock us up so they don't have to give us shit, then tell us it's our fault for asking for what's ours. And then they start mocking us, dressing like sluts just to remind us of what we can't have."

He was close to frothing at the mouth, but calmed down when he got to his point. "Picture this," he said, spreading his arm wide. "A new world order. We bust out of here, assemble an army, and take what those sluts promised us. We put them in leashes, see how they like it..." He contemplated this for a moment. "They probably would like it, the little whores. And then I'm gonna take that bitch Applejack, and I'm gonna tie her up in front of all of Ponyville, and I'm gonna fuck her fat, lazy ass for every time she thought she could lay a hand on me. And then I'm gonna let everyone else on the farm have a turn, all three holes for every time she tried to hurt one of us, and then I'm gonna look her in the eyes, and I'm gonna slit her fucking throat." The froth was back. "And then every mare from coast to coast is gonna get down on their fucking slut knees and suck dick for every time they said they'd give it up but didn't, or they can sit down on my fucking cock and bounce up and down until they fucking die!"

Frantic gestures to lower the volume were ignored until it was too late. Nearby, a young stallion lifted his head from his partner's lap. "What was that about sucking dick?" he asked.

"We're talking about mares, Red!" Meadow Song helpfully yelled.

"Huh?" Red Delicious slowly tilted his head, thoughts trickling like molasses. "But mares don't have dicks."

"Mares sucking my dick, you Tartarine homo!" Ace exploded at him. "If you knew anything about that, you'd be over here!"

Prism Glider slapped Ace's face back frontward, and a broad hand guided Red Delicious' lips back to their task, and the question was dropped. "But wouldn't that make you as bad as her?" Lucky interjected once the tense moment had passed.

Ace looked at him in incomprehension. "What?"

"I just mean..." Lucky gulped. "The reason we're in this mess is because Applejack thinks you're going to rape her. So if you turn around and rape her, aren't you just proving her right?"

"What? No, no. That's not the same at all." Ace shook his head, laughing. "The mares are always saying if we hadn't stopped them, if we hadn't stopped them, but that's manure. We never did anything to them, and we were never going to, because we thought our mares were perfect fucking angels. But now we know better, see? Even if you were a perfect fucking saint, a mare would lock you in a cage because protecting her empty slut pussy from what she wants is too important. They've proved that they're the fucking-obsessed psychos, not us. And it's only right that the punishment fit the crime. That's what you call a self-filling anecdote."

Lucky wasn't quite sure that he followed that logic, but he was sure that arguing with Ace wasn't in his best interests. Nodding in feigned agreement, he quickly looked to Prism Glider. "And how about you?"

"Oh, I already said my bit," Prism Glider answered, smiling pleasantly. "The first thing I'm gonna do when I'm free is kill my ex-wife for putting me here."

Next to Ace's bridled fury, it was the sheer calmness of this statement that made Lucky silent. Prism Glider just shrugged and ruffled his wings. "Round the circle," he said. "What's your plan?"

"Me? Oh..." Lucky had made plans, sometimes elaborate and fanciful ones, but they always seemed silly when he tried to speak them aloud. Besides, he wasn't sure his fellow black collars would understand. "Just my usual answer, I guess," he said, repeating what he'd said the first time he'd been asked this question. "The first thing I'm gonna do when I'm free is have a nice meal."

This earned three stares. "That's it?" Prism Glider said.

"Well, yeah." Lucky shrugged. "I'm thinking a clover salad, some soup, then a great big bowl of tomato pasta with eggplant, sugar loaf on the side, and the biggest, richest slice of chocolate cake that money can buy. And some onion rings." Playing off the stares, he took another mouthful of cumsludge. "What can I say? I used to be a food critic."

"That's just crazy talk," Ace guffawed. "You mean you've been working here all this time, watching all these sluts walk by in their tight slut outfits, and there's not one of them that you want to fuck?"

Lucky crimsoned a little. "It's not like that," he protested. "It's just that my priorities are-"

"There is," Meadow Song noted slyly. "He's just not saying."

"It's not... like that," Lucky trailed off, defeated. "It's just not the first thing I'd do. Call me old-fashioned, but I'd like to have some kind of relationship with a mare before I get busy with her. Talk with her, go on a date, find out what she's like, you know? Then fuck her," he quickly added when the dumbfounded stares didn't leave.

"Oh, I see," Prism Glider said, perking up. "She's the one who'll cook the meal for you!"

"No, I'll cook. I'm the best chef I know. We'd probably eat it on our date."

This, evidently, was not the correct answer. Ace started to flare up again dangerously. "You mean you let mares lock you in here, you let them use you and break you and try to turn you into a fag, and as soon you get out you take one of those sluts and you treat her like she's-"

"No, I get it," Meadow Song stated. He clapped Lucky on the shoulder and gave him a quick wink, which Lucky took as a cue to shut up. "Our boy's got standards, that's all. If he's gonna settle for one mare to have glued to his dick 24/7, he's gonna make sure she's nothing less than the best, am I right? I hope you find that mare, I really do. I really do," he repeated more quietly.

"...Thanks," Lucky said, unsure of what to make of it.

"Well, last but not least," Prism Glider said, turning Ace's attention toward the last stallion of the group. "Meadow, what's the first think you're gonna do when you're free?"

Meadow Song made a show of considering the question, turning his nose up and tapping his chin. Then he shrugged. "Nah, I'm good."

Even Lucky stared. In fact, he thought he saw a few red collars staring. "You're good?"

"Yeah." Meadow slurped a handful of cumsludge casually. "I'm good."

"You're good!?" Ace burst out. "After you let mares lock you in here, you let them use you and break you and try to turn you into-"

"-into a fag, and all that, I know, but you know what else?" Meadow Song said. He leaned in conspiratorially. "See, it just so happens that a certain nurse-turned-doctor has been renting me from Applejack to help her with her paperwork, which she has no idea how to do. So four days a week I go up to her office, we fudge some forms for a few hours, she brings some snacks, I sing some songs, and then she bends over the desk and makes me ride her 'til the sun goes down." He smirked widely at their shocked stares. "I've been inside her on every surface in that room, and now we're going for every position, too. If I keep my nose clean and get a full transfer there, I'll be well-fed, well-dressed, and balls-deep in the tightest little white pussy you ever did see until we retire. Now you tell me there's any way that could have happened before the Reign." He crossed his arms. "You name one mare who would have agreed to that arrangement before they started calling the shots. I'll wait."

Ace made a small, choking noise in the back of his throat. "Once we're back in control, you can still have that," he argued. "As many mares as you want, any time. And you tell them when to bend over!"

"You mean rape? Yeah, no thanks." Meadow made a gagging sound. "It's no fun unless they're into it. Real sluts are better than the ones you make."

Lucky found he couldn't let this go, either. "But is that really different from what she's doing to you?"

Meadow's curious gaze spurred him on, so he continued without prompting. "I mean, flip the situation. If you were in charge and you called her into your office one day and she didn't want to have sex, you wouldn't like that, right? So if you go to her place one day and decide that you don't feel like sex, do you really think she'd take no for an answer?"

"Oh, Lucky, Lucky, Lucky." Meadow Song laughed and clapped him on the shoulder again. "Under what circumstances would I ever say no to that?"

The pause to contemplate an answer wasn't long enough. There was a scrabbling noise as Comet Tail hastily stood to attention at the entrance, and a second later Applejack burst through the curtain, truncheon at the ready. "Are you layabouts still sittin' around?" she yelled at the black collars. "C'mon, git. I need to get you washed for the arena."

"Yes, Mistress," three voices chorused back; Ace simply mouthed the words. They stood and trudged toward the entrance. "Gonna get her," Ace muttered from the back as they got close. Lucky felt his breath on his back and got a chill. "She won't see it coming. Just one punch. Gonna break her arms and ride her ass so hard-"

Rough hands grabbed him from behind. "Hey, what the fu-" he screamed, only for a cum-soaked ball of straw to be stuffed in his mouth. Lucky turned and flinched away; Night Watch and Time Turner each had Ace under one arm and were dragging him away, his hooves kicking and scraping on the floor.

At the same time, the two red collars leaned in and licked his ears. "Time's up," they whispered.

Ace's screams grew louder as he was dragged away, desperately spitting out cum and straw. Fear gripped Lucky, but he found that he couldn't look away. Applejack absently whacked Prism Glider and Meadow Song out the door, but she too seemed transfixed, only sparing Lucky because he was out of reach. From wall to wall, the other red collars were rising, an unspeakable hunger in their eyes. They lurched and crawled after Ace with the unsteady gait that anyone would expect after taking an anal pounding for hours, drooling from both ends. At the end of the room, Bulk Biceps tossed Rough Tumble aside and spread his arms, licking his lips at Ace's approach with an audible smack.

Applejack broke out of her trance first. "G'wan, get to the hose," she yelled, whacking Lucky's shoulder. "It'll be easier to just leave him."

"Right..." Lucky said quietly, not ever remembering to add "Mistress." He took a few tottering steps backwards and nearly made it to the curtain, but still found himself staring. He could no longer even see Ace, lost within a wall of gay flesh that was closing in around him. "I'll just..."

"Don't touch me, you damned diseased faggots!" Ace screamed from within the mass. "I'll kill you! You brainwashed faggots, I'll kill you all! I'll kAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"

"I said git!" Applejack yelled over the noise, striking Lucky across the stomach. He finally got the hint and rushed out. Still she took one last look herself, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Shut the fuck up!" she shouted into the caterwauling, which now sounded like a whole chorus of slightly muffled yells. She spun away and exited. "Faggots," she grunted.

Author's Note

Huh. Apparently this author is incapable of not writing women. I apologize again for the voluptuous female presence in this male-focused story. I'm sure you're all duly devastated.