Applejack: Shame Without Humiliation
Applejack: Shame Without Humiliation
(All characters in this piece are above the age of 21)
(This story is a fan work and not part of FoE canon)
“Ah hate tah do this to yah, but it seems yew’ll never learn!”
The lash came down hard again on Applejack’s back, leaving a long, searing welt. Big Mac was careful to never break the skin, his practiced hand maximizing pain while minimizing damage. Though it had not been long since The Fall he had become quite the mare-master, his powerful hands carefully manipulating, caressing and breaking the mares sent to Sweet Apple Acres. Ms. Cheerilee was his prized favorite, the former schoolteacher now broken beyond the ability to even say her name, her red collar showing her undying compliance to Big Mac’s wishes.
Applejack, however, refused to submit to the new regime. It wasn’t the incest -- she and Big Mac had made good use of their “down time” even before The Fall. It wasn’t the humiliation -- she loved being tied up while she was being pounded, even going so far as to handcraft the restraints she previously wore only voluntarily. It wasn’t even the constant demand for sex -- sex was fun, and had she had access to the animals and technology brought in by the Caribou to harvest crops, she would have been having much more of it before The Fall.
But she couldn’t abide being told what to do all the time. She had always been good about helping out the family and doing what needed to be done, but through all of that, she had been driven by her own hopes and ambitions, not the needs and desires of others. Twilight Sparkle had tried to explain to her that this new way was “better” -- that somehow, the fact that she didn’t need to worry about work, or the harvest, or the farm, was a form of freedom better than the one she was being made to give up. But Applejack just couldn’t abide by that.
She couldn’t abide having males who had previously cowered at her strength now ordering her around and forcing themselves into her snatch. She couldn’t abide being called being a cunt, or being evaluated solely on her ability to suck every dick presented to her. She couldn’t abide by being told she was now breeding stock, that she would be forced to bear foals from stallions not of her choosing. That sort of stuff might be fine for Twilight, Rarity and Fluttershy, but she could not take it. Not when she’d spent so many years working her flank off to prove that she was every bit as good as any stallion.
And that is why Big Mac beat her. Deep down, she knew he was doing this to protect her. To protect her from other stallions, from the various Caribou out to see that mares were complying with their new status, from the disdain and hatred most males had for black collars. His “soft” beatings were actually quite kind compared to the black eyes and broken bones meted out for other black collars. Last time she saw Rainbow Dash, the poor pegasus had a broken nose and a broken arm. No amount of embarrassment or shame heaped on Soarin for his excessive use of force made her feel safe, knowing that any stallion could do that to her and get little more than a telling off, so long as she survived and remained a black collar.
Big Mac switched from his whip to his cane, his blows landing hard across her ass and thighs. After a beating like this, it was usually days before she could walk again, not that Big Mac gave her many chances. In order to keep her from being taken to be “re-educated” at a dirt farm or, worse, blanked completely and re-sold to a crueler master, he kept her bound in special gear which prevented her from standing. When inspectors came, she was tied up so that she could not object to their “inspection,” with Big Mac ensuring them that he was making progress on his sister.
She knew that if the tables were reversed, she could not have such kindness or patience. Were the rebels ever to win, she would grab that cane away from Big Mac and not stop beating him until either it broke or he did. But she still had some vague feelings for him, either because he refused to give up on her or because he was, through it all, still her older brother. She could not forgive his actions, but she could at least understand them, as well as appreciate all the effort he took to keep her safe.
That didn’t make the cane hurt her any less, though. Nor did the fact that, once he was done, he shoved it up her asshole with barely enough spit to lubricate. She wanted to reach around and lash out at him, to pull the cane out of her ass and fling it at him, but her hands were bound together tightly and suspended by one of the barn’s ceiling beams, forcing her to stand on hoof-tip. Big Mac had been doing a lot of this “suspension training” lately, apparently encouraged by one of the books newly delivered to Twilight’s library. He had explained to her that the point was to exhaust her, and thereby wring compliance out of her by simply having her be much too tired to do anything else. It hadn’t been working, though.
Big Mac pulled another book out of the satchel he had attached to Cheerilee, thumbing through it carefully. Applejack could read that the title had something about “positive reinforcement,” though she wasn’t entirely sure about what it was. There was also a book about showing “good examples” to recalcitrant mares, though she wasn’t sure what that meant either. Was Twilight going to be brought in to lecture her again? Or Rainbow Dash trotted out as a warning that things could be worse? Even the memory of those cuts and bruises made Applejack wince.
Cheerilee obediently crawled forward, mounting a modified sawhorse and allowing Big Mac to strap her in. She cooed softly as he locked her in, then grit her teeth as Big Mac rubbed his length up and down her slit. Unlike with Applejack, there were no whips, no canes -- Cheerilee complied without a word, barely making a sound as the huge stallion shoved his length into the hilt. Even from her restrained vantage point, Applejack could see that Cheerilee was pained by this, her body still not used to this sort of rough treatment. But that hardly slowed Big Mac Down, his hips and thighs moving quickly and firmly as he fucked her hard.
Applejack hated seeing such things. Before the fall, she and her brother had been rather exclusive. He wasn’t interested in other mares, and she wasn’t interested in other stallions. After the fall, however, mares were lining up at his feet, throwing themselves at him in a desperate bid to have him become their owner. He had gained a reputation as being the sort of stallion that any mare was lucky to have, and even the girls he rented for extra farm work were begging for the chance to come back. Applejack was disgusted by this, but she knew how they felt. Deep down, she wished that she could belong to Big Mac in a deeper, more personal sense. But he refused to treat her like anything other than a piece of property, and a frustrating, malfunctioning one at that.
Still, seeing Big Mac pound another mare made her want him on some deep, animal level. She couldn’t help but stare at his enormous shaft as it slid in and out of Cheerilee’s overstretched pussy, coated in her juices. Applejack wanted that inside her, wanted it more than anything. Nothing felt as good as her brother’s cock, whether it was in her mouth, cunt or ass. It was always so warm, so hot and hard yet supple and giving to manipulation. She had spent many long hours rubbing it between her hands or against her chest, and she longed for such opportunities to come up again.
Big Mac was taking his time too, working himself up slowly rather than just pumping and dumping like he did with Applejack. He was exploring Cheerilee with his shaft, pushing her this way and that as he jammed in his length repeatedly. His hands came forward, roughly grabbing her tits, twisting her nipples this way and that. Cheerilee squealed in pain as he handled her, but she barely even pulled against her restraints, letting Big Mac do whatever he wanted to her, regardless of the consequences.
Applejack bit her lip, trying to hide how she felt. Her whole body was swarming with jealousy. It should be her on that sawhorse, being pounded by that big shaft! She should be the one he was dumping his seed into, trying to bring to foal! Stupid red-collar sluts like Cheerilee had stolen her brother away from her, and it was their eagerness, their wholesale desire to be fucked by any cock, any time, that turned him into the man-whore he was. Before they came along, he’d only had eyes for her -- and the only time he brought out the whip was when she wanted a little sting in her sex!
Cheerilee let out a deep, throaty moan as she came, her body pushed over the edge by the abuse to her backside and breasts. She seemed to drink in the pain, swallowing it as Big Mac pounded her relentlessly. The stallion’s own orgasm was not far behind, his heavy throat braying as he unloaded himself into Cheerilee’s nethers, cumming and blasting hard until his load squirted out onto Cheerilee’s thighs.
Big Mac pulled out slowly, even stopping to push in briefly and use Cheerilee’s distressed pussy to milk his shaft, making sure it was truly empty before finally pulling out entirely. He grinned, giving Cheerilee’s ass a firm smack as he examined his work. He was clearly proud of the way he’d wrecked her backside, leaving it red and swollen after a good pounding. His own shaft was still dripping with cum, the last dregs of his load hot on his tip. Coming to Cheerilee's front, he grabbed her hair in one hand and shoved his length in with the other, ignoring the gasp of pain as the mare felt her mouth and throat utterly filled by enormous stallion cock.
That didn’t keep Big Mac from pushing himself on her, hilting her face and jamming himself up against her nose, his length choking her and keeping her from breathing. Despite her best efforts, snot, spit and wayward wads of cum splattered this way and that, drenching her face in liquid mess. Her eyes rolled back as he choked her, her throat engorging as it stretched to take the huge shaft pounding through it. Though his shaft was barely half-hard thanks to his recent orgasm, he was still tremendously thick, such thickness straining Cheerilee terribly.
After a few more minutes he seemed satisfied, pulling out his now wholly flaccid length and smearing it across Cheerilee’s face. She was still choking and coughing, trying to spit or swallow whatever was in her throat and lungs in a desperate attempt to get air. As soon as she began to recover, though, she stuck out her tongue, licking and lapping at the tip even between her gasps for breath.
Thus satisfied, Big Mac patted her on her head and undid her restraints, hefting her off the sawhorse and letting her collapse in a heap on the floor. Cheerilee immediately began to kiss his hooves, ignoring the mud and muck stuck to them from a day’s work on the farm. He smiled at her, petting her again before shooing her into a nearby stall. Getting out a bottle of cum for her to drink and a bowl of mare kibble, he made certain Cheerilee was satisfied before locking the iron bars which kept Cheerilee in her place. He gave her one last pat before turning around to face Applejack, his face suddenly framed by anger and frustration.
“That’s what you an’ I would be like, if’n you’d just learn what a useless mare cunt you are.”
***
Applejack groaned, her back, arms and legs aching terribly from the long hours of being restrained. Ever since daybreak Mac had been “fuck bucking” his other mares, showing them off to tourists and having them whore themselves out just as they whored out Sweet Apple Acres produce. With much of the farm work now mechanized or done by beasts, the mares on the farm were more spokes-whores than anything else, using their mouths and cunts to help Big Mac persuade investors and purchasers to choose Sweet Apple Acres over the competition. Also Big Mac held live sex shows that were popular and famous enough to pull in tourists. Come for the stupid cunts, stay for the Zap Apple jam.
Of course, Applejack was left out of this. Only red collars and the occasional functioning purple collar were allowed the “freedom” to perform or be whored out. Other black collars had either been broken or sold off to more patient (or brutal) owners, leaving Applejack alone during work hours. It was torture, hearing the moans of pleasure coming from outside the barn all day and knowing she would not be permitted to join in. Indeed, short of the occasional pity-fuck from one of Big Mac’s friends, she hardly had any at all. Black collar or not, being this left out was a torture no mare deserved, at least in Applejack’s mind.
Still, the sun was setting, and soon the other mares would be back in their cages. Big Mac would inspect Applejack and make sure there was nothing on her he needed to care for, then give her food and dirt-flavored kibble before locking her back up. It was a maddening routine, made all the worse when he only let her out to exercise on weekends. A few short hours crawling around the field on all fours and then she spent the rest of the day in her cage, all while hearing the laughs and moans of the other mares being left to roam outside. All because she had the “misfortune” of not being a stupid cunt like they were. It wasn’t fair.
Applejack sighed and closed her eyes. At least her barely beat her at this point, and even when he did, his powerful hands never so much as broke the skin. Big Mac was considered to be the best mare wrangler in all of Ponyville, and though he had not yet broken Applejack, he still refused to resort to the sort of brutality that he could most certainly get away with. Applejack had not been raped into mindlessness like Pinkie, nor badly injured like Dash. Big Mac was still holding back, still trying to see if there was another way. But how long could he hold out? How long could the fact that Applejack was his sister stay his hand? She’d seen him pull out the stops on other, more recalcitrant mares. When would be her turn?
None of that mattered now, though. Instead Applejack kept her eyes closed and waited for Big Mac to unchain her and lead her to the wash stall, where he’d hose her off before dinner. The water was always ice cold by the time Applejack’s turn came, leaving her shivering by the time the towel came out. Still, at least she wouldn’t have to sleep covered in filth. Though she might be forced to muck out every mare’s stall before being allowed to crawl into her own.
Applejack collapsed to the floor when Big Mac undid her chains, her arms and legs exhausted from the day’s hanging. Her muscles had always been strong and slow to fatigue, but even she couldn’t withstand being suspended from the ceiling for eight hours. Still, once a leash was securely on her collar, she crawled towards the exit, eager for the chance to relieve herself. She had been holding it in for hours now, and she desperately needed release. Squatting over the outdoor chamber pot, the let herself go, trying to ignore the fact that Big Mac was watching.
Even though she tried to ignore him, she could still see Big Mac’s eyes staring down at her, glowering with frustration and disappointment as he examined her. She could tell by the coos of the other mares that things had gone well today, yet he could not even force a smile when he was with Applejack. His anger was hard for her to see, and deep down she wished she could just break herself and satisfy him, if only to finally escape from the pained look in his eyes. But she could no more quit being a black collar than she could grow wings and fly to freedom. It just wasn’t who or what she was.
Her business done, she moved over to the washing stall to allow Big Mac to clean her before putting her to bed. All of the other mares had already been washed, leaving the tiled floor wet with water and soap. She braced herself when she heard him pick up the bucket, expecting to find herself doused in freezing cold water. Much to her surprise, however, the water was comfortably warm, nearly as much as those baths she used to love before The Fall. The brush, too, was soft and new as it worked the soap into her sides and flank, making her moan slightly as she looked up at Big Mac in surprise.
The big horse was trying to smile, but it was clear he was unused to this. Such warm, intimate treatment was certainly to be expected for obedient red-collars, but black collars were expected to suffer for their impudence. Applejack hadn’t had a warm bath in longer than she could remember, much less one with her brother. She looked back, blushing as she saw that he had removed his shirt and overalls. She had seen him naked plenty of times, but for some reason, this was embarrassing.
“Ahm...Tryin’ somethin’ different. To break yah. With kindness.”
Big Mac’s large digits held her leash firm, but they also teased her sex, rubbing up and down it. Applejack grew wet almost instantly, the long periods of restraint making her even more eager than she once had been. She had never been particularly good at holding back, and hearing all those joyful moans all day had gotten her motor running hard. She moaned loudly, though she was still somewhat muffled by the ball gag in her mouth. She wanted this, and didn’t care that she was still collared and restrained. She hadn’t had her brother inside of her for far too long, and she needed it.
Big Mac didn’t wait long, rubbing himself against her a few times before pushing in firmly, hardly grunting as he shoved himself in to the hilt. Applejack, however, whinnied with surprise. It had been far too long, and she had lost the flexibility she once had. There was no bleeding or tearing, but still, it was quite the tight fit, and Applejack had some trouble adjusting. She expected him to shove or jam with impatience, to force her to take it as he had those few times he had fucked her, but instead he took his time, waiting for her to calm down before beginning to thrust.
Each such thrust was divine to say the least, moving inside of her with smooth, gentle movements through her lower lips. Even back before the fall Big Mac had never been so careful, his youth and inexperience leading him to pound her hard, raw and fast. Clearly, getting to pound mares any way he wanted, any time he wanted, had led him to be more selective. Not to mention talented, especially the way he sent shivers up and down Applejack’s spine with each careful thrust.
Of course Big Mac didn’t stay slow forever. He increased his pace gradually, saying nothing but breathing harder as he continued to work on Applejack’s backside. Applejack, for her part, began to push back against him, whimpering and groaning with delight as she permitted herself to be fucked, and then fucked harder, and then fucked harder still. She wanted this, more than she could remember wanting anything, and she had to have it. Every fiber of her being told her to take the cock into her, harder, better, and more so.
Soon the two of them were rocking hard, Applejack moaning as she used all fours to push back against Big Mac, encouraging him to plow her like a field. She bit down on the gag in her mouth, trying hard not to cry out, yet helpless to give in to her desires. Her entire body was tense, almost vibrating with energy as the orgasm finally struck, eliciting a piercing squeal from behind her gag. Her knees and elbows wobbled, causing her to fall face-first onto the tile floor. Still, that didn’t stop her squirting. She could feel herself leaking out around Big Mac’s shaft, her juices dribbling out across her thighs.
Big Mac himself wasn’t too far behind, his length unloading into Applejack with hard, wild spurts. Applejack knew that her brother had been working with sluts all day, and was amazed at how much he managed to produce, filling her cunt to capacity and beyond. It had never been like this back when they were still fooling around. Had he held off all day, or was there just something special that got his motor running?
Once he pulled out, Big Mac just sat there on the tile floor, panting with satisfaction. Applejack held still, trying to catch her breath through her nose. It was hard going, but as she began to flutter down from her orgasm, she felt herself overcome with the blissful afterglow she had so long been denied. It was wonderful, and after such a long time without it, she felt all the calmer and happier as well.
“See, Applejack? That’s what it’s like for the other mares. If’n you’d just submit, every day could be like this.”
Applejack turned to see Big Mac reaching into his coveralls and retrieving a bright red collar with a single large ring. It was identical to the one he had placed on Cheerilee shortly after The Fall. The ring glinted in the moonlight as he held it out, its lock dangling inches from Applejack’s face.
Applejack blushed and turned away. She wanted to lash out at him, to yell and scream at such an insult. Did he not even know who she was? Did he not understand that there was absolutely no way she could submit like this? All of these months of pain, torture and resistance had taught him nothing. He still thought he could turn her into a stupid dumb mare cunt. All of this kindness and patience was just the latest in a long line of dumb tricks.
Big Mac held out the collar for a bit longer before realizing that Applejack wasn’t going to accept it, even if she didn’t have the courage to stare into his face and glower her disapproval. Though she couldn’t see Big Mac’s eyes she knew they were filled with heartbreak. His stamping hooves told her everything about his disappointment, as did the hurried manner in which he dressed himself and yanked on her leash.
“Well fine then! You can just sleep outside, you dumb cunt! I do everything for you, and you don’t even care! You’re going to end up just another dumb black collar like that stupid pegasus friend of yers!”
Applejack bounced and tumbled as she was thrown bodily out into the yard. The restraints on her arms and legs kept her from catching herself, and even on the soft, muddy ground she found herself badly bruised on the flank and shoulders. Still, it was her heart that hurt all the more. Why couldn’t Big Mac just accept that she was a black collar? Why did he have to try so hard to break her? Why was he never satisfied? It was all too depressing.
The far corner of the field had a few bales of hay for the mares to snack on when they weren’t enjoying their kibble, crawling as best she could, she made her way to them, then collapsed. Her cage was warm and dry compared to the outside, and Big Mac hadn’t even toweled her off before kicking her out. Even though it was a warm summer night, she was going to be chilled by morning, possibly even sick. But it didn’t matter -- her brother had kicked her out, and in the end, this is all that she could register. This was worse than being hung out in public, than being fucked by every stallion who so much as looked at her. She cried herself to sleep, wishing she could come up with some way to explain, or at least apologize, to Big Mac for what she was.
Author's Note
(All characters in this piece are above the age of 21)
(This story is a fan work and not part of FoE canon)