Fall of Equestria: The Story of Estra

by Schorl Tourmaline

Rating: mature
Tags: Mrs. Cake, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Sad, Anthro, Original Character, Mr. Cake, Sex
Length: 9460

A fall of Equestria story about Hearth's Warming Eve at the Cakes, and the telling of a story with the most unlikely of heroes

During the first Hearth's Warming Eve since the Fall, the Cakes are "graced" with a pair of caribou guests. While Mr Cake does what he can to distract one of them away from his wife, Mrs Cake becomes the other caribou's audience as she recounts a tale from their home lands.

This story was canon within the primary Fall of Equestria universe.

Warning: The following work of fiction contains extreme themes which includes rape, slavery, body modification, degradation, misogyny, and brainwashing. The views of the story do not reflect the views of writer and are strictly fantasy. All acts of sex in real life should be consensual.

Published 2015-01-15 03:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-01-15 03:00:02 UTC

Hearth's Warming Eve

Author's Note

Hey everyone, here is a little something I made for the holidays that didn't get released in time. There were complications all around, but I mostly blame myself for it coming out two weeks past its due date. I hope you all still enjoy it though. Happy belated holidays!

Hearth's Warming Eve

“This simply won’t do…” said a caribou as he inspected a table full of pastries and other baked goods, “Not at all.”

Mr. Cake looked over the food, nervous and curious about what displeased the creature. “But I made everything that you ordered. It’s all there; two-hundred bowls of fudge, one-hundred assorted pies, three-thousand cookies, one-hundred loaves of gingerbread-”

The caribou put a hand in front of Mr. Cake’s mouth, “Everything’s here, but half of it is all wrong. You made this all as if it was only going to be eaten by the males attending the celebration. I should’ve know the moment I saw that you didn’t segregate the food by its intended consumers.” Going down the table, the caribou picked up some of the items. “None of the cookies are phallic shaped, you didn’t make any less satisfying food for the black collars, and it looks like you didn’t even bother using any of the ingredients we gave you.”

Mr. Cake looked over to a corner, guiltily eying several large drums full of sexual stimulants and semen from what must’ve been hundreds of stallions, delivered right to his doorsteps the week earlier. He knew what would expected of him when he got them, but he had too much integrity for his own craft to sully it, not to mention that he was not very happy with how things were run with the caribou around. Hearth’s Warming Eve was a time for everyone to be happy, not just those that went along with the newly established regime’s way of doing things.

“I’m sorry Gunne... I must’ve forgotten to put that all in, but can’t we just give everyone what we have here? Maybe it would-”

“Don’t call me by my name Mr. Cake,” Gunne interrupted again, “To you it’s ‘magistrate’. And no, we can’t use these. We asked you to make a specific order and we expect that you fulfil it. Have you forgotten that you’re on probation and any amount of cooperation will be seen as a positive mark on your behalf, while any acts against our orders will be seen as negative.”

“R-right, I understand,” the stallion said nervously when reminded that his every move was being judged, “I’ll get right back to work and I’ll make all the mare treats that you want.”

Gunne sighed, despising this task. “If she wasn’t sent off to Canterlot for the holiday I’d have that pink mare here to show you how make this food the right way.” Of all the duties he was given, watching over this mentally deficient, gangly earth stallion was amongst one of his most loathed. The stallion was a coward, all but locking himself away in his store so he didn’t have to face his peers. It sickened Gunne to see a man with so little backbone, and he wished deep down that he was somehow connected to the rebellion just so he could have a reason to rid himself of this burden. If this was how incurable males acted then he dreaded the day he’d have reason to visit that farm on the outskirts of town.

Nevertheless, it was his duty to his people and his king to make sure things went smoothly, and he wouldn't allow one spineless stallion to derail that. “Mr. Cake, why is it that you’re in here in the first place? This is a female’s job, you should be relaxing while your mare toils away in here, especially since she’s a black collar.”

Mr. Cake feigned a laugh, “I guess I just like to cook. It is what I got my cutiemark for, and even if it’s a woman’s job it’s something I couldn’t go without doing.”

He said that, but after what his wife had to endure for the lesser part of a year, being raped by caribou, stallions, and mares alike while going to that horrid brothel, he wanted to make her as comfortable as possible, and that meant taking up more of the work load. As he spoke with the caribou she was off doing the other thing ordered of them, which he felt would be easier than literally slaving over a hot stove.

Mrs. Cake looked out the window, snow covering everything outside it. Nude as she was, she shivered, not envying any mare that would be unlucky enough to be taken out in that weather. She had heard the caribou had created some way of keeping mares warm, but knowing them it’d be almost as bad as the alternative. Running around in all those flakes without anything on would be enough alone to give a pony chills.

“Is everything okay over there?” Asked a female caribou wearing only simple red straps covered in bells around her thighs, ankles, wrists and upper arms. She was decorating the Cakes’ traditional Hearth’s Warming Eve tree with green and red sex toys that were ornately decorated with a rough, white material that made them look festive. “You keep looking outside and quivering like you were watching another mare get it in all her holes at once.” The female caribou, who Mrs. Cake thought was named Ginna, gave a small shiver herself that made her who body jingle.

Having seen that the Cake’s shop was not “appropriately” festive, Gunne had set his slave to the task of getting it ready when he arrived. Unfortunately, he’d made it clear to Mrs. Cake that her assistance in the endeavor would be mandatory. She and Mr. Cake had planned on putting it off until it was too late to put up any decorations, but Gunne wasn’t going to allow that to happen.

“It’s nothing like that,” Mrs. Cake said, keeping to a civil tone as she put up a small wreath on a nail above the window, “I was thinking of how frigid it was out there.”

“It’s kinda cold outside, but nothing like the winters back where we caribou come from. To me your summers get pretty warm, talk about being in heat.” Ginna giggled at her own joke and proceeded to pull out a uncomfortable looking anal plug from a large box of “decorations” that the caribou had sent them.

Mrs. Cake stepped over to the box and looked inside to see what was left. There wasn’t a lot, as from the moment the girl’s master went in back to check on the food order she had been busy merrily hanging up all the decorations.

“What’s this?” The earth mare said bending over to grab a pair of fuzzy gloves and high heeled boots from underneath the few other items left inside.

Ginna looked at the clothing in Mrs. Cake’s hands and then checked inside the box once more. “Oops, I opened the box upside down. I bet they sent those for you to wear while you got your home ready for the holiday. You should put them on, your master will be so surprised when he sees you in them that the second he lays eyes on you he’ll go wild with lust and take you right in the middle of the room.”

Mrs. Cake tossed the clothing over the box, much to Ginna’s dismay. It might’ve been romantic and festively kinky the year before, but with sex becoming such a frequent occurrence, and it being related to the suffering of so many, any enjoyment either she or her husband could’ve had was drained away.

“You really should do more for your master,” said Ginna, “He’s doing all that work in the kitchen and you can’t even try to look nice for him. Why do you black collars always act so selfish?”

“I know my husband better than you do and trust me, he wouldn’t be any happier if I was walking around in those than if I walked around naked.” said Mrs. Cake as she joined in finishing the tree decoration.

“Ooooohhhhh, I get it now.” Ginna said as if she just had an epiphany.

“You do?”

“Sure I do, and I’m sorry. I didn’t think about your master’s personal preferences. He must like you showing as much skin as possible at all times.” Ginna gave Mrs. Cake a gleaming grin, like she was proud she had figured out a difficult problem, “What a good mare you are for thinking about his kinks. It’s amazing that you have a black collar on still. Maybe you need to work on your sex skills too. Have your ever tried stroking his penis with those large tits of yours?”

Mrs. Cake internally debated the merits of lecturing the cow on the privacy of sex, but a loud crash interrupted her thoughts. It gave the plump mare a start, but that was nothing compared to the Ginna’s reaction to the sound. The caribou’s eyes shot wide, her hands lost all grip, and it looked like she was about to fall over from shock. This only lasted for a few seconds before she made a dive for the cardboard box, hitting the inside of it with a force that flipped the container over on its side, scattering what few ornaments that remained inside across the floor.

A pathetic whimper sounded from the box, making Mrs. Cake worry that Ginna had hurt herself. She had hit the box pretty hard, and that male caribou with her husband wouldn’t like it if anything happened to his slave, so the mare felt she had to check on her. Looking inside, Mrs. Cake could see a frightened, trembling girl unable to do anything save push herself further and further back against the wall of the box.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her voice not sounding as concerned as she’d hoped.

“S-scared,” Ginna said timidly.

“Ginna, calm down. There’s nothing here to be afraid of. That noise was in the other room,” Mrs. Cake tried to reason with the caribou, but Ginna only shook her head in response, “Would it help if I got your master?” Ginna nodded, giving a closed mouth whine.

The earth mare headed for the kitchen, regretting that she had offered to fetch the girl’s owner. From her own firsthand experience, caribou were misogynistic jerks at best and sexually-depraved rapists at worst. The town’s magistrate appeared to be part of the former half of that stereotype, but he was still a very heavy-handed individual who valued and enforced the caribou ideals, showing intolerance for her husband’s gentle treatment of her. It was a mercy that Ponyville was such a small town and held no interest for most other caribou.

Opening the door, Mrs. Cake stepped right into the caribou she sought, but before she could get a single word out he snatched her up by her collar and dragged her into the room. The kitchen had become a huge mess, the floor was covered in creamy fluids that the mare didn’t want to identify, along with the fragments of several large bowls scattered about that had held the liquids before they broke. Mr. Cake was already hard at work cleaning it all up with a rag, doing all he could to get it all up as soon as he could.

Glancing up from the stallion, Mrs. Cake met with a disgusted look from the caribou male, “Look at what you’ve brought your master to. On his hands and knees, cleaning this unsightly mess off the floor because your behavior before our arrival made him this way. Don’t you feel any kind of shame?”

“No,” Mr. Cake objected, “She’s fine. I’m the one who made the mess, I’ll clean it up.” The stallion quickened his pace so his wife wouldn’t have to soil herself with the vile substance.

Gunne crossed his arms in disapproval at the stallion’s actions. If the baker weren’t so pathetic already, his slave’s indolence would have enraged him further. “You unjustly pamper this mare so much that she’s grown fat from her laziness. If you were harsher on her then she’d have a far more desirable figure.”

Mrs. Cake rolled her eyes, she had heard it all before from other men. That she was obese and less desirable because her form didn’t adhere to their idea of attractiveness. She didn’t care, it wasn’t like she was trying to please any of them anyways.

“I think she’s beautiful the way she is,” Mr. Cake said with a smile, “And you caribou say that we stallions can do with our women what we want, right?”

“Within limits Mr. Cake, and you push those limits daily. While having a fetish for fat mares isn’t a crime, there are other ways you could plump her up and still have her act according to her role.”

“Excuse me,” Mrs. Cake interjected, “But if you’re done talking about my weight then you should know that your slave is cowering in a cardboard box.”

Gunne’s arms slacked. “Ginna is… get out of my way.”

Mrs. Cake hardly had time to step aside as the caribou pushed past her and left the kitchen. “I swear, those creatures have no sense of manners.” she said, grabbing a rag to help her husband with the mess. When she crouched down aside Mr. Cake he looked as if he was going to object to her assistance, but a soft look from her made the stallion’s grievances melt away.

“Has he been giving you trouble?” Mrs. Cake asked. She was always concerned when Gunne was around. He was extremely critical of her husband, telling him how he should be more firm with her. She was afraid that Gunne might eventually get fed up with him, perhaps even get aggressive, but so far it hadn’t come to that.

“I’m okay,” He reassured, “Rushed myself with some of their ingredients.”

Mrs. Cake put her hand over the stallion’s, squeezing it lovingly. He did so much for her, and she wished that she could do something more for him through these troubling times that had no end in sight. He had to go through so much grief because he was too kind to be changed.

The two earth ponies took their time, eventually getting every drop off the floor. “Thanks for helping Cuppy,” Mr. Cake said, “That would’ve taken forever.”

“Of course dear,” said Mrs. Cake as she tossed the towel she was using in the garbage. “Are you sure that you want to keep cooking alone though? You still have so much to do.”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m sure.” As much as he’d like her to stay around, he didn’t want her to be near the male caribou that would be back in any moment since all he ever did was talk down to her. “Tell Gunne I need him back in here.”

Mrs. Cake headed back to the living room, stopping only to go back and plant a kiss on the stallion’s cheek. “That should be enough to keep you going.” With that she left her husband standing in silence with a grin on his face that could only be matched by the one he had on his wedding day. Having the motivation he needed, the stallion rolled up his sleeves and went back to work. Those bastards wanted food? The way he felt he was going to create a feast of desserts, even if he did have to use those disgusting ingredients.

Upon returning to the living room, Mrs. Cake was greeted by the sight of Gunne sitting in one of the Cakes’ chairs, holding his slave in his arms, petting her gently. She stayed back at first, the caribou not noticing her intrusion, so she could spy on what was happening for a little while longer.

Gunne was humming a soft tune to his slave, his expressions holding a softness she hadn’t seen previously. Where before Mrs. Cake felt that he would’ve given her a hard smack across the face if she so much as said one disrespectful word to him, he now looked kind, gentle, and wholly unlike the condescending and sexist prick she knew him for. It had an uncanny valley feeling to it; while a natural thing to do to calm down someone frightened or panicked, knowing they were master and slave instead of two lovers made it feel weird.

Mrs. Cake kept watching though, not sure what to make of it. Gunne could’ve been showing some sort of warped affection towards Ginna, but it was just as likely that his was part of his training for her to make sure she never disobeyed him. Making a girl feel completely helpless at the first sign of trouble and dependent on a male to calm her seemed like something the caribou would do.

Eventually Gunne finished his song, which the mare assumed was of caribou origin, and noticed that he and his pet were not alone. “You know it’s rude to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong mare, and even worse to rudely stare as you are.” Gunne’s words were stern, but calm, not wishing to frighten his slave again by raising his voice. Giving Ginna a few more slow strokes between her antlers, Gunne placed his hand under her chin so he could gently bring her eyes to his. “Everything better now?”

“Yes master,” Ginna answered, seeming much better than when she was in the box. Any trace of fear had left, and all that remained was an obedient, and somewhat timid caribou girl.

“Good, go clean up the mess you made. If you do a good job, and if Mr. Cake has corrected his mistake, then I’ll give you a treat once you’re finished.”

Ginna gave her master one last nuzzle and slid off his legs. With his lap emptied, Gunne got to his hooves, making his way back to check on his charge, giving Mrs. Cake nary a look or a word while he left the room, leaving the mare alone with the cow once more. Ginna returned to the work assigned to her, seemingly having forgotten all about the incident from before.

The earth mare joined the caribou in her tidying of the room, if Gunne came back out and saw she wasn’t helping…. well she didn’t want to press her luck with the caribou. So she got down to her knees and started picking up the scattered ornaments along side Ginna. One by one she picked up the glittery sex toys, securing them between her arm and large, round breasts, making them shimmer in red, white and green speckles from the contact.

“Oh!” Ginna said excitedly, “I didn’t expect them to send you an ornament of Estra!”

Mrs. Cake didn’t know what Ginna was talking about; did she say “estrus”? It raised the mare’s curiosity, since she couldn’t think of what an estrus ornament would look like, so she put the ones she had down so she could crawl herself over to Ginna, finding an ornament in her hand unlike the others.

Instead of being a decorated vibrator or plug, it appeared to be a crystalline figure of a woman tied to the front of an elaborate sleigh, the large breasted and shapely figure being caribou in origin, easily identifiable by the small antlers atop her head. There was another caribou too, this one male, driving the sleigh from its seat, whip in hand, captured in the middle sending the implement towards the sled puller.

“I didn’t even think I’d see one of these this year,” Ginna continued as she rubbed the object, “I just love to touch these against my skin and pretend that I’m being touched by Estra herself.”

“Estra?” Mrs. Cake asked, this having been the first time she had seen any caribou speak of a female with high regard.

“Oh right, I keep forgetting that you ponies don’t know our stories,” said Ginna.

“Your people have stories... about women?”

“Of course we do,“ Ginna replied, “Women play an important role in life. We provide comfort, bear children, do whatever it takes to keep our masters happy, and, umm…” Ginna stalled, at a loss for another example of useful traits women had, “Anyways, sometimes a woman will go above and beyond in the service of their master, putting the needs of the male that owns them before themselves to set an example for all the others,” the caribou girl brought up figure, pointing the female figure at its front at Mrs. Cake, “And the best of them all is Estra, who did the impossible for her kind and loving master, Lord Riddari.”

“What did she do?” Mrs. Cake asked, both interested and suspicious. She was halfway expecting it to be something like fucking for a month straight without rest.

Ginna looked around, checking if she and the mare had picked up everything like her own master had said. With the mare’s neat pile and her own armful of things, the two had finished, which meant that she didn’t have anything else to do except wait for her next command, Since her master was busy with a stallion in the other room she’d have to occupy her time somehow.

“Well… I’ll tell you exactly what she did, as it’s the greatest feat that a woman has ever accomplished.”

The story begins in the caribou town of Garthr, a small rural town with maybe five-hundred caribou living in it.

“I’m surprised you know what rural means,” Mrs. Cake accidentally said aloud.

“I know, I had to ask my master maybe a dozen times before it set in,” Said Ginna.

Anyways, the town was a quiet and peaceful place where nothing ever happened. The men all did their man work, like fixing things, managing the farms, training the warbeasts, all those things we’re incapable of, and came home to adoring women that would gladly give their bodies in service to ease the burdens of the men who owned them.

Life was simpler back then, no one had ever heard of a black collar, or a purple, not even a red, at least not in the way that we know it today. Back then the collars weren’t colored to show how willing a woman was. Mostly they were left as the normal color of the stuff they were made of. All except for Estra's, whose master had created for her a pretty red collar to show off his beloved pet.

Lord Riddari, the town’s most prom… promi… umm… skilled blacksmith, wanted all to know that his cow was special. Even if she couldn’t last as long during sex as some of the other women, and had a hard time learning anything, or wasn’t as pretty as most, she was still his and that was all that was needed to make her the most important girl in the city. At least, the most important to her master, and that was all that really mattered.

Other males would scold Lord Riddari about it, saying that the collar of red was ugly and that it distracted their cows from their duties every time she would be walked down the street, but he didn’t care. He wanted all eyes on Estra, every eye glaring at her enormous tits and plump ass being further proof that she was the most lovely cow in town. Every time he heard a one of his friends talk about Estra it made Lord Riddari grin, even if they were griping about the color of her collar.

Even with all the ani…. animos… hatred at her collar, the other men did like to play with her body, which only pleased Lord Riddari even more that the complaining stags would have to accept it when they stuck themselves inside Estra’s wanting cunt. He loved lending her out, and seeing the looks they gave when they gripped the collar in hand before taking her from behind, giving the metal band a harsh pull that made her cry out in maso... masochis…

“Why do you keep doing that?” asked Mrs. Cake.

“The story has a lot of big words…. It’s hard to remember them all.”

“I think this one is ‘masochistic’,” Mrs. Cake figured there weren’t a lot of other words that would fit.

“Right! That’s it!”

The looks they gave when they gripped the collar in hand before taking her from behind, giving the metal band a harsh pull that made her cry out in masochistic pleasure, were always ones of contempt, but Lord Riddari took pleasure from seeing that they’d fuck his cow anyways.

Everything was wonderful, that was until one day when a meeting was called for every single male in the town. Few knew what was going on, but whatever it was sounded important. The men went to the town hall, wondering what could cause such a stir without everybody finding out about it. Lord Riddari of course brought Estra with him, as did most of the other males with their women, and placed her in a pen outside the building with the other cows so she could have some playtime while the men did their business.

As soon as her master one-handedly put her into the pen, the other cows latched their eyes to her and her red collar. They had heard their own masters’ complaints about a cow that had a strange collar, but all the stories about her only made them more interested. They needed to know this cow, in the only way that two females can really get to know each other.

Estra was piled on by the other cows. They covered every part her body as each one tried to get a piece of her. She was happily helpless to their attention, only able to make the littlest squirms as they pinned her down so they could do with her as they wished. It was a dream for any caribou female, having an entire town worth of playmates, holding her down in marvel… marvelis…?

“Marvelous…”

Right, marvelous restraint. Some used their tongues on Estra, taking in the flavor of her breasts, lips and pussy, while others grabbed whatever limb they could so they could rub their own sex-hungry slits across them. It quickly turned into an orgy that was rarely seen outside of celebrations, while those unable to reach Estra having fun with each other until they had the chance to get past the wall of bodies blocking them from the cow they really wanted to play with.

But soon, a hand grabbed her by her collar, ripping her away from the other girls, making them all cry out in disappointment since their fun was now over. Estra herself was upset that the pleasant feelings flowing through her from her dozens of climaxes was starting to fade, until she noticed that she was curled up in the arms of her beloved master. The cow wanted to hug him right there for her red collar, which she would’ve never been able to have that kind of pleasure without. But Lord Riddari, ever focused on his own duties as a male, kept the sweat, saliva, and cum-covered woman at bay, saying that they needed to go and fetch the cure that would save the village. Taking his pet back home Lord Riddari got his sleigh ready so they could find the rare plant.

“Wait a minute? Cure? Plant?” Mrs. Cake felt lost, like she had missed something from this story. “Where did those come from?”

“Oh, it’s part of the boring bits of the story.” Ginna explained, “The men inside the town hall had been talking about some disease that was spreading through the city somehow, making some of the cows really sick. Not much happens there, the men fight about it for a while, they bring up that a cure was found, but it was rare and in a far off and dangerous place, and that they would need a someone to go get it. All it comes down to is that Lord Riddari was the first one to say he’d go. Absolutely nothing important missed.”

Mrs. Cake begged to differ, that seemed much more important than hearing about an all-female caribou orgy. She was starting to think her guess about Estra just being some legendary slut was correct.

Getting back to the story, Lord Riddari loaded his sleigh with all the things that he’d need for the trip: food, water, and tools her might need to get to the plant if it was in a hard to reach place. Not wanting to leave his beloved Estra behind, with some other male who wouldn’t appreciate her as much as he, Lord Riddari stored her in a cow storage compar… compart… a box that men put their females in when they want to travel.

It was a safe, confining space for Estra, padded on the inside so that no matter how much she squirmed or how many bumps the sleigh hit she would remain unhurt. It even had a hole in the top that Estra could slip her head through, which would put her face between the legs of the driver. Estra could hardly wait for when Lord Riddari would have need of her, for him to undo his pants mid-ride and shove his warm shaft in her mouth, allowing her the privilege of pleasuring him on his adventure, feeling the powerful heat pour off that meat rod into her her throat, rhythmically moving her head back and forth until she would finally feel that delicious burst of creamy-

“You’re doing it again.” Mrs. Cake’s aggravation with the girl was starting to build.

“Doing what?”

“You’re derailing the story to focus on the sex,”

“But it’s important to talk about how she was feeling at the time.”

“I’m honestly more worried about that disease you were talking about, and the cure.”

Ginna groaned, “OK, but you’re making me skip over a really good part.”

Lord Riddari stored Estra away, tossing inside one of her favorite toys to keep her distracted on the long trip. In her dark and enclosed box she took the rigid phallic object and pressed it into the pucker of her-

“Skip it.”

“Come on! This is good!”

“Go to the journey, that’s what I’d like to hear about.”

“Are all black collars like this when it comes the unimportant details?”

Anyway, with his pet’s boredom taken care of, Lord Riddari tied his warbeast to the front of the sleigh and headed out across the cold countryside Warbeasts aren’t the fastest way to travel, but they can carry a lot more than a single caribou, even the strongest male, so in order to have the supplies he needed Lord Riddari would have to take longer to get there. The trip would take three days to get there and three days back, hopefully enough time to save the cows that had gotten sick.

The biggest problem that Lord Riddari was going to have wasn’t the distance, but the snowstorm heading right for the town. He had packed warm clothing, and Estra’s box was nice and warm-

“Was that suppose to be a euphemism?”

“A what?”

“Were you talking about sex again?”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go back and talk about her playtime? I know black collars don’t like admitting they like sex”

“I’m sure… go on.”

Like I was saying, the box Estra was in would be warm enough to keep her safe from the cold, so the storm wouldn’t freeze them to death, but it would make it hard for Lord Riddari to find his way and could slow him down if he got caught in it. It didn’t look like it would be there for days, but it still worried Lord Riddari. If he could’ve he would have waited it out, but the sick cows might not last that long. He would have to risk it, for the sake of those girls who were stuck in bed, and not in the fun way like with ropes or chains.

He traveled a long way with only his warbeast and favorite cock warmer. There was a big lake covered in ice, a beautiful forest of white and eventually the large mountain where the plant needed for the cure was. All he had to do was make it to the top of the peak to get it.

“Nothing happened during the journey to get in his way?” Mrs. Cake asked thinking that Ginna had once more skipped over something important.

“Nothing at all. The homelands were very well under control, unlike Equestria. Any and all beasts were either obedient or knew enough not to tangle with the might of a caribou male. Not that they didn’t sometimes have their way with a female that strayed too far away from a village. There are these small, bug-like creatures that like to latch themselves onto the crotches of a women, stick this long tube inside them and shoot eggs right into their-”

“Let’s just get back to the story, shall we?”

Lord Riddari scaled the mountain alone, not even telling Estra that he had left. It was very considerate of him not to worry her about his absence, as she would’ve been terrified to find out she was alone. He couldn’t climb up the cliffs carrying her with him and she wasn’t going to climb up by herself. To Estra it was just an extra long time to masturbate, giving her more than enough time to explore her body fully. It was just her, the darkness, and the steady stream of good feelings while she fingered her holes vigorously, her toy firmly placed inside her ass as she did, until her master’s return.

And as Lord Riddari climbed the mountain, knowing that Estra would be content without him for some time, he strained his large muscles with each pull upwards. He went higher and higher, his powerful male body giving him the strength to make the climb, until he found what he was looking for, a large patch of the plant that would get rid of the illnesses of the cows in the village.

He took as much as he could carry and went back down the mountain, back to where his beloved Estra was waiting, and told her that his job there was done. Estra was so happy for her master, admiring him for his amazing show of his abilities. She knew that if she had to do the same alone she would’ve never made it, she was glad that the town wasn’t depending on her instead.

She wanted to show her admiration to her master, to surrender herself completely to her master, letting him take from her whatever he wanted for what he had done to help other cows like herself, and she knew exactly what it was that he would want. Still in her box, Estra poked her head out and opened her mouth wide to accept Lord Riddari’s huge cock into it. Enjoying Estra’s eagerness, Lord Riddari released his flesh rod and pressed his head against the pillowy lips of his woman. Without hesitation, Estra lapped at the flare pushing against her mouth; she knew that Lord Riddari enjoyed a bit of tongue before getting sucked off.

So to satisfy his desires, and her own desires to taste her master’s shaft, she rolled her tongue along his length, rubbing the side of if against her face as she did, making a mess of her face, which amused Lord Riddari greatly. He gripped her head, letting her know that it was time, and thrust his dick deep inside her throat.

“Why exactly is Estra celebrated again?” Mrs. Cake wasn’t seeing any reason that the caribou female was special at all. Even by sexual measures most mares did more kinky and satisfying things than Estra.

“I’m getting to that part,” Ginna replied, “I comes after this part where Estra services Lord Riddari orally and gets a mouth full of cum for her reward.”

At this point Mrs. Cake didn’t trust that the story was going to prove to be anything respectful for the “heroine” of the story, but as she was already this far in, she might as well listen to the rest.

With Lord Riddari satisfied with Estra, and Estra with herself, they headed back to Garthr right away. They went back the same way they had came, making it through the forest they traveled through on the way to the mountain, but when they left it they were hit by the storm Lord Riddari had feared they would get trapped in.

It hit the sleigh hard, covering it in snow in seconds. The storm was blinding enough to make it a challenge just to see your own hand in front of your face let alone lead a sleigh. Lord Riddari pushed the massive warbeast on against the heavy winds, not allowing himself to be delayed by the weather. It was dangerous, but he had to make it back as soon as possible. All through the night he kept his warbeast going, hoping that he hadn’t been sent off course. Eventually he was given a sign that told him he was still going to the right direction, but not in a way that he would’ve desired.

His warbeast made a loud howl, and with it was the sound of a loud crack, one that Lord Riddari recognized quickly as the breaking of ice. They had made it back to the frozen lake, but in the storm Lord Riddari had traveled over it instead of around it as he had before. On top of the lake, the heavy warbeast had cracked the ice, and water was pouring through the cracks. It wouldn’t have been so terrible, since the ice was still mostly okay, but when the warbeast felt the freezing water it went into a panic.

Lord Riddari did all he could do to calm the beast down, but there was no time. The animal was wildly stomping and breathing fire all around, and it was only a matter of time before it broke through completely. Lord Riddari stayed calm though, and when it became clear that there was no way to settle the creature in time he searched his supplies for a knife, taking it to the straps so that he and the sleigh wouldn’t be taken down too. As soon as the sleigh was free, Lord Riddari quickly pulled the sleigh away from the frightened creature. Soon, there a big crack, and the ice under the warbeast gave way, and it fell into the icy water.

With the warbeast sinking to the bottom of the lake, it’s fate sealed, Lord Riddari was without a steed. He wasn’t that far away from the town now, just a few miles away, close enough that he could make it on foot if he wanted to. If he did though he’d have to take Estra with him, which was been a trip that she might not be able to make. He could leave her behind in the sleigh, but Lord Riddari knew that even she would notice that he would be gone for that long. He wanted to get back with the cure as soon as possible, but he couldn’t abandon his precious pet. There was only one thing he could do, but it wasn’t going to be easy.

He emptied his sleigh as much as he could, removing everything from it aside from the plants he had gathered, a set of extra straps he had packed in case his first pair broke, and a heavy blanket. He was going to need it as light as possible, because his only option was to pull the sleigh himself. There was one thing that he had to do before he started though, seeing that he had already come into danger that could’ve taken not only his life, but that of his slave had the sled fallen into the water. He had to force Estra out of her box; she wouldn’t like it, but it was for her own good if something else happened to him.

Not long after, Estra was sitting in the driver’s seat of the sleigh, covered in a warm blanket as Lord Riddari pushed through the snow. His ability to drag the large through the sleet showed just how much determination to complete his mission he had, and while he was tested every step of the way it was nature that relented in the end, the storm giving way to his might. The snow cleared, the winds died, and the clouds made way for the sun, allowing nothing else to stand in his way to Garthr.

The city was in sight, less than a mile away; they were going to get there just in time. Estra was impressed with her master’s strength, and while she never had any doubt that he was powerful this act cemented her respect for him for the rest of her days. But… as strong as he was he was only mortal, and like all creatures of flesh and blood even Lord Riddari had his limits. One could imagine the fear Estra felt when she saw her master, whom she had never removed her eyes from since she had been taken out of her box, collapse in front of her.

She rushed to his side the moment he fell to the ground, leaving her warm blanket behind. To her relief he wasn’t dead, merely resting from extreme exhaustion. It was nothing to be ashamed of; he had bested the elements, but a feat like that would take its toll on anyone. But now Estra was alone, in a position where her master was unable to guide her. It scared her, made her just want to curl up back in her safe, warm box and wait until either the males at the village saw the sleigh or her master woke up.

That was what she wanted to do, but there was no guarantee that either of those things would happen, and if she had come up with the idea herself then it was probably wrong anyways. She needed to be told what to do, she needed someone to guide her... if only Lord Riddari had given her some kind of order before he passed out. Was she supposed to stay with him, or was she supposed to go get help? She stayed there wondering about this for a long time, not even able to touch herself as her worry for Lord Riddari grew. There had to be something she could do.

Then she finally came to the only idea she thought would work. A silly idea really, as a female like her couldn’t ever pull it off. Still, it seemed to be the right thing to do. She’d have to pull the sleigh herself. Even if it was impossible, she had to try for both the lives of Lord Riddari and the sick cows. She didn’t know how, but she hoped that her dedication would pull her through.

She undid Lord Riddari from the sleigh, using every bit of strength she could give to help him into the craft, and then took his place as its puller. The straps were loose fitting, as they were made for a creature far bigger than she, but she had to make do with what she had. With them wrapped around her body the best she could get them, she started what she felt was a pointless effort.

She put one hoof in front of her, focusing on getting to Garthr. Putting everything into a single push, she slipped and fell down on one knee. She wasn’t stopped by that single failure though. Cows failed all the time, but it was always part of that failure that they learn from their mistakes so they could better serve their masters. She got back up on her hooves, again pushing herself to pull Lord Riddari to safety, and once more she fell, her front hitting the ground this time.

She didn’t stop though, and she continued to keep at it, all the time thinking that she would never make any progress, but unable to just do nothing and allow her master to possibly die. Even as her own exhaustion took over she just kept going, expecting the worst but hoping for the best. And then… after countless times of falling face first onto the ground, so much that she had actually cleared an area in the snow, she finally felt a budge.

The sleigh was finally starting to move, she was making some sort of difference somehow. She didn’t understand it at all, how she was making the sleigh move, but she didn’t question it either. This was a miracle, that a cow was able to do something so beyond her, and she wasn’t going to squander it with unnecessary thought. She just kept pulling, not even looking back as she kept her gaze on the city she called home.

Imagine the surprise on the men’s faces as Estra ran into town, doing the kind of work warbeasts were supposed to. Many of them watched in amazement, unable to understand what they were seeing, but a few chased after the red collared cow to get her to stop, which she was glad to do after her long run through the snow. She was tired, more so than she had ever been after a hard fucking, but in a way this made her feel much better than any orgasm she had felt before. It was the privilege to serve her master and help him complete his quest that made her feel this way, to be a tool that he could use to finish his task.

With both Lord Riddari and Estra exhausted from pulling the heavy sleigh, they were taken to rest while the town’s doctors took the plant and made the cure. When they both recovered Lord Riddari was declared a hero and Estra was recognized for her service as a cow above all others. Suddenly no one thought the red collar around her neck was ugly. They knew she had earned it and that it separated her from the other cows that had not done what this one could.

Soon every stag in the town wanted to bury their dicks in her now frequently used pussy. She had become the most desirable cow in Garthr; requests to breed with her started to pour in, as well as offers to buy her. But Lord Riddari wasn’t going to sell of or allow any other stag to have a child with his beloved pet that he had known all along was special. They could fuck her all they wanted, since it was Estra’s reward and it only made the other males jealous that they could never truly have her, but she belonged to him and him alone.

Over time the other stags started to give their own cows red collars for performing above what was expected of them. It became known that having one meant you were adored, and not having one brought shame. Using Estra as an example the other cows pushed themselves in their sexual and domestic tasks, ‘til finally every single caribou female had a ring of red clamped firmly around their throats.

This wasn’t satisfying to Lord Riddari; he had used the collar as a sign that Estra was special, now it had become the standard. So being as clever as he was he came up with something new to make his woman stand out. He gave her bands covered in bells to wear around her arms and legs that would jiggle wherever she went, and especially while she was having sex. Some males tried to copy this too, but found they couldn’t tolerate the constant ringing like Lord Riddari could. So they allowed Estra the bells to separate her from the others, but every year, during the six days of Lord Riddari’s journey, the other males would make their cows wear them to honor Estra dedication to her master.

“That was very good Ginna.” Mrs. Cake and Ginna were pulled out of the story, now aware that Gunne had been listening in.

“Master, I’m sorry,” Ginna quickly apologized, bowing forward on her knees till her front pressed to the floor, “I had nothing to do and she didn’t know about the story of Estra and...”

“Ginna, relax,” Gunne said in his gentle tone he seemed to reserve only for his slave, “It looks like you finished decorating Mr. Cake’s home, and you should know by now part of the moral of that story is that while females should always obey their masters, it isn’t bad for them to act on their own accord if it serves their master’s wishes. Telling this mare that old fable was a good thing Ginna, she could learn a thing or two from Estra’s example.”

The caribou male went to Ginna and picked her up, setting her on her feet. “Are we leaving master?” The girl asked.

“Yes,” he answered, “The food preparations seem to be back on track, so we can go for now.”

The two caribou headed for the door, but something bothered Mrs. Cake about the story, “Wait a minute,” she said, making them stop, “You said that I should learn from Estra, but how can I? I don’t even think it really happened,” Mrs. Cake looked at Ginna and Gunne, using them as a reference of how Riddari and Estra might’ve looked compared to each other. Ginna was maybe half the size of her master. A small female like her would be incapable of picking up a creature of that size made of pure muscle, let alone pull a sleigh with one in it. “Do you expect expect me to believe a story built on something so ridiculous?”

Ginna looked back at Mrs. Cake, bemused by the mare’s words. “It’s just a story,“ she said, “A myth told to inspire cows and stags to be the best they can be.”

“I’ll admit, I too have doubts that a single female could pull a sleigh with a male caribou in it,” Gunne added, “But that’s not the point of legends. I don’t expect a mare to understand, given the lack of useful lessons in your own stories, but it doesn’t matter if a tale is true or false as long as you take something from it.”

Gunne left on that sentiment, taking Ginna with him and leaving Mrs. Cake thinking about what he said. What lesson was there that she could take from that story? That she should submit to caribou, become a woman that only thinks about how to please men and find satisfaction in that alone? There was no ‘moral’ to this story, at least not how Ginna had presented it.

She couldn’t get the tale out of her head though, something about it had gotten to her, that made her dwell on what she had been told. It made her want to talk to her husband just to get her mind off it, but when she opened the door she saw something that made her pause.

It was nothing new, simply Mr. Cake working on making the snacks for the upcoming Hearth’s Warming Eve celebration, but the way that he was pushing himself, doing everything so she wouldn’t have to lift a finger after all she had been through, it gave her appreciation for the stallion much greater than she had ever had before. It was unfair that he had to toil so hard when she could be helping, but he was happy to do it anyways since he felt it would ease her own burden as a slave.

Watching him from outside of the door, not even being noticed as he baked the desserts and added them to the pile. He was the best husband a mare could ask for, putting her first before his own needs, and yet she couldn’t do anything to ease his suffering in return. That’s when she figured out what it was in the story that kept coming back to her and what she could take from it.

Estra didn’t do what would’ve been impossible because she was just some submissive slave; she had been so dedicated to her master because her master was likewise dedicated to her. He believed in her, made her feel special, and earned her respect and admiration because of it. That much she could derive from the caribou’s story, even if it wasn’t exactly what they had intended.

If only she could do something that would make things easier for him. He had Gunne looking over his shoulder all the time, and he wouldn’t let her cook or clean when she was being forced to fuck on the caribou’s orders, but there had to be a way she could help him. She put her mind to coming up with a solution, but she was limited in what she could do. She couldn’t do any physical work without upsetting her husband, she couldn’t refuse to go to the brothel without Gunne causing him more grief, and she certainly didn’t have the power to try and stage a rebellion. With the way things were it really did seem like the only thing she was good for was fucking.

Then an idea came to her, once more influenced by the story Ginna had told her. It wouldn’t be possible for her stop being fucked by other men, but perhaps she could at least make it so Gunne wouldn’t be so adversarial to Mr. Cake. She thought about it deeply before coming to her final decision. If it had any chance of making her husband’s life easier, then she would do it.

Mr. Cake held a bowl in his arm, stirring together a mixture of cookie batter and mare stimulant. He had a few dozen more batches to go, but he’d have it finished by the end of the day if he kept at it. Hearing hoofsteps on the kitchen tile, Mr. Cake turned around, expecting that Gunne had returned to give him one final lecture before leaving.

“I know you want me to bring my wife in here to do this, but she fine staying out in-” Mr. Cake’s eyes widened and he dropped the bowl in his hand. The spill created another mess that he’d have to clean up, but for now that wasn’t important. He couldn’t think of anything but the dressed-up mare in front of him.

Those long, shoulder high gloves around her arms combined with a pair of boots that ended at her upper thighs, it was amazing how a little concealment made Mrs. Cake look much more sexy than being completely nude. It had been a while since he had even thought about his wife in such a way, but with those clothes on it was hard to think otherwise.

“C-Cupcake, w-what are you d-doing?” He stuttered to the approaching mare, “If Gunne saw you in something like that he’d think-”

Mrs. Cake put her finger to the stallion’s lips, silencing him, “I know exactly what he’d think, and I want him to think that way about me.”

“W-what do you m-mean…” Mr. Cake asked, backing away slightly from the mare until his back pressed against one of the kitchen’s counters.

“You have done so much for me Carrot,” Mrs. Cake said, “and I appreciate all of it. I appreciate it so much that I can’t let you keep going on like this. If you want to take on all the work at the store to let me rest after being used by the other stallions, that’s fine. But I can’t stand letting that caribou condescend and threaten you. So I’m putting a stop to it.”

Mr. Cake’s eyes begun to zip around the room, too nervous to look his own wife in the eyes, “And how are you going to do that?”

“I’m not going to do anything,” the mare replied, “He wants me to be a submissive mare and obey you. You however are going to do something that he’s been wanting you to do for a long time.” Mr. Cake gulped, his forehead sweating from his discomfort. He didn’t know what what she was getting at, but he was sure that he wasn’t going to like what she was suggesting. “Carrot Cake… for your own sake… and the sake of our family… Please make me a red collar.”