Author's Note

Thanks as always to Inazuma for pre-reading

Fair warning. This is a world building chapter.

Only OC characters are in it.

Most of the material is set up for future events that are yet to come.

It contains a lot of information about Caridoon, and more importantly Caridoon’s ‘curse’ Some of this could have an effect on how you view Applejack’s reactions in her chapters, but you could skip it and not really miss anything in regard to the principal story arc.

Applejacked ch4: Meanwhile in Caridoon part one

Applejacked, ch4: Meanwhile in Caridoon, part one.

The Land of Caridoon is home to just about every race that exists in the outside world. Proof that even the most benign of races on occasion can produce enough bad seeds to attract the attention of the nasty bad people sensing magic in the valley.

But there was only one race that had been so irredeemably evil that every single member had been removed from the outside world and as a result it no longer existed anywhere else.

That was the Ursine. A race of xenophobic bear people who raped, murdered and plundered indiscriminately. Until they made the mistake of wiping out all the worshipers of the Goddess of Fluffy Bunnies. Incensed at the loss of her worshipers, but still a fluffy bunny at heart, the goddess used all her power to convert the natural geological wonder that was Caridoon valley into an inescapable prison. As a consequence every ursine alive was trapped in the valley away from all other races.

That all happened fifty thousand years ago.

A lot can happen in that length of time. Especially when the magic of the valley provided the bloodthirsty beasts something else to occupy their time besides casual rape and murder. In this case, in keeping with the Goddess of Fluffy Bunnies particular sphere of influence, this meant lots and lots of sex.

The Goddess of Fluffy Bunnies had not really understood evil, but figured that it was nothing lots of frequent sex couldn’t cure. Therefore she had created conditions to make sure that constant sex would happen.

All the edible vegetation in the valley and even the pollen in the air, contained a component that permanently altered any sentient being who ingested it and hijacked their sex drive; shoving it into overdrive, and from there into turbo-charged mode. Only by copulating with a female similarly infected could a male’s overwhelming need to ejaculate be temporarily, stifled.

And only by taking in fluids from a male could a female’s descent into overwhelming heat over the course of two or three weeks be held back.

In short it turned the entire population into horny teenagers, figuratively speaking. Only in this case they didn’t just think they’d die or go insane if they didn’t get laid, it could actually happen.

The goddess blamed the evil ursine for forcing her to take such drastic measures.

It wasn’t that the ursine were reluctant to engage in constant sex. It was just that like most intelligent creatures they objected to being forced to do something. Even if that something was an activity they thoroughly enjoyed.

The fact that there were still Ursine in the valley, even though their numbers were small, was an indication that at least some of them had gotten with the program.

The fact that the ill-thought out concept had not exterminated them due to overpopulation and conflict between competing males for the attention of fewer and fewer females was more a tribute to the ursine’s unique biology than from any forethought on the part of the goddess, who had passed on after using all her magic to craft her prison.

For all their mammalian qualities, the bear like Ursine were not actually mammals. Males outnumbered females a hundred to one, and females laid eggs rather than giving live birth. Being in constant sexual overdrive did little to alter that demographic, or result in more births than would have happened otherwise.

In fact, the results were actually less eggs as the females were locked into the procreative stage of their cycle rather than the conception stage.

Ursine females also tended to be much larger than the males, and more vicious. They were the ones who selected their partners. Once this meant a female’s partners of choice were the most vicious males who could present her with the tastiest of morsels to win her approval. In the valley the females became much more interested in those males who could best scratch their constant itch.

As a result, through genetic selection, male ursine became very good at pleasuring their females.

Even so, the Ursine population waned as fewer and fewer females found respite from the constant sex long enough to move into the egg-laying stage of their cycle. And soon for all intents and purposes they vanished from the general population of the valley.

There was speculation among the other races in the valley that they had moved up into the mountains where few other races dared to go. There they lived in secret temples practicing forbidden magics and powerful fighting arts. Some even whispered that they knew of a secret exit from the valley and built their mystic temples on top of them in order to keep the other races trapped.

Whatever the case might be. The end results was the same. It was rare indeed to see an Ursine in the valley. But not unheard of.

One such individual Ursine, who went by the name of Domi. Was currently a temporary resident of the little town of Stagville which was hard up against the southern mountain flanks and about as far from any major population centers as it was possible to get in the valley.

***

Domi gave a thunderous sneeze, barely staving off the worst of it by pinching his nose between forefinger and thumb to catch the bulk of the snot in his heavy claws. He examined the load for a moment before flicking it away into the mud of the street. “Looks like someone is talking behind my back,” he said in a cheerful tone.

His unhygienic action brought a disgusted snort from the tall handsome wood-stag standing next to him on the town’s only sidewalk. Which, given that Domi had done it on purpose to get a reaction like that from the superficial little toe-rag, brought a pleased smile to the mature ursine’s face.

The only way there could have been more of a contrast between Domi and Blue Thunder, the stag in question, was if one of them had been born female. Blue Fart, or BF, as Domi called him in the privacy of his own mind, (and had ever since BF had a bad reaction to some camp food,) was tall, even for his tall race, with broad shoulders and a handsome face that often caused distracted does and other females to walk into walls. Or to spontaneously trip and fall over a nearby fucking stand.

It wasn’t just his face and form that was of high quality. His clothing was of the finest grade, the cost evident in every stitch. The rings on his fingers and the hoof shields on his hooves were likewise of the most expense manufacture.

The young noble’s eyes were steely, and piercing from a distance. If you got close enough to really look you soon noticed a lack of any sign in them that the idiot had ever had an original thought in his life.

BF did sport a magnificent rack. Domi had to give him that. Tall and spreading, it was the envy of every stag in town.

Frankly, Domi suspected extensions.

Domi on the other hand would never be considered handsome. The bulky ursine was a head shorter than his noble charge and nearly three times as heavy. His general body shape was more boulder than tree. His fur was shaggy, unkempt, and thick around his groin, hiding his manhood when it was resting in its sheath.

Domi didn’t bother wearing anything but the harness necessary to hold his gear and weapons in place. His eyes gave the appearance that he was half asleep, verging on falling into a spontaneous nap, until you noticed that his droopy eyes never stopped moving and examining everything around him.

A prominent gut counterbalanced Domi’s massive shoulders along with the heavy pack on his back which contained all his worldly goods and into which was shoved the handle of a lethal looking double-bladed ax.

Many thought the ax was for use against whatever Domi might encounter in the wilds. In reality he carried it to counteract what he considered a far more dangerous foe. City folk. Domi was constantly suspicious of any being who hadn’t spent at least half his life in the jungles and forests of Caridoon. He was not about to leave his pack where just any male could walk off with it. Females he didn’t mind. He’d like to meet the female who could lift his pack. He liked them sturdy.

His current suspicious behavior might have been considered a bit over the top seeing as how Stagville’s population topped out at around two hundred souls, about half of what it had been built for. That was still far too crowded for Domi’s taste. He got antsy if he had to share more than ten square miles with another male. Which was one reason he was in a bit of a mood. If not for BF he’d have been out in the woods hunting and camping, with only a slave girl for company. Instead he had been forced to come into town purely due to BF’s stupidity and arrogance.

The young idiot had decided to go on an adventure. He intended to travel the length and breadth of the land, meet new and strange people, and fuck their females. The young fool was so confident in his prowess and personality, that he hadn’t even petitioned his father to bring along a slave, sure that nature would provide all the pussy he could handle

That belief hadn’t lasted long.

The fool should have realized how stupid he was being. Like every single male in Caridoon not ejaculating every twelve or less hours was simply not an option.

After nearly a week where BF’s only solace had been his own right hand and the occasional slave girl who was traveling with an accommodating master the by now desperate young male had consented to stop at this little backwater and acquire a traveling companion/slave of their own.

Domi was happy about that, even though the chance of finding a suitable slave girl was next to zero. There simply were not that many girls who could handle all Domi had to offer. He’d been forced to get used to only being able to soak at best two thirds of his dick. It would be really nice to find a girl who could accommodate all he had. But unless there happened to be a female moose in town, or one of the mythical earth ponies, that was not likely to happen.

Domi maintained his sour expression for a full ten seconds, before his basic nature couldn’t be restrained any longer and he laughed at himself. He knew very well why he’d let the boy’s old man talk him into this little caretaker job, besides the fact he was an old friend. It let him do what he loved most in the world, and get paid for doing it.

The ursine loved wandering around Caridoon. He’d been doing it for thirty years and he still on occasion stumbled across an old lost city, or rarer, a lost race, he hadn’t known existed till then.

Not that finding lost cities was all that special. In Caridoon lost cities were not exactly rare. They outnumbered the known ones ten to one at least. Mostly they were lost because no one was looking for them.

The reason for this was two fold. The first was that Caridoon had been continuously inhabited for over fifty thousand years. Enough time for more than a few civilizations to rise and fall. The second was that Caridoon’s curse had not been as friendly to those earlier people as it had to the ursine. Without the current system they had self-destructed through over-breeding and wars with other local tribes as they tried to capture females to use as slaves to take the pressure off of their own females.

That was all in the past now. The current system had kept things stable and healthy for thousands of years. But the earlier chaos had littered the valley with interesting things if a male was inclined to go looking, and Domi certainly was.

The problem was that Domi’s cock usually kept him on a short leash. A personal slave girl was way beyond what he could afford with his normal lack of funds. He was tougher than most, but even he had to make sure he was always within a few hours of available pussy. The forest might supply most of the necessities of life if you knew where to look, but that was one thing you couldn’t just pick off a tree.

With BF’s father footing the bill it was looking like that restraint would soon be lifted. With a bought and paid for slave girl he’d be able to spend weeks, or even months just wandering with no fear of coming down with a bad case of the ball cramps.

Of course, with BF hoofing the bill they’d likely end up with some petite cutie who could only manage to take just the first four of six inches of Domi’s cock up her cunt. Not desirable, but good enough to keep him healthy and sane. And that was the important thing.

Besides, as part of his adventure BF had come up with the idea of cataloging every tribe in the valley and rating their females for quality and talent. Who knew. Maybe they’d find a tribe whose females were tailor made for someone of his length and girth.

Some of the lost tribes were tiny with only a few members. Easy enough to remain hidden from the rest of the population. Though all of them were of course larger than the unicorn tribe, which last Domi had heard was down to just two males.

Domi’s face screwed up in distaste at the thought of the unicorns. It served the bastards right. What did they expect when they made it a practice to dock the horns of every female that returned to them after her public service? It was no wonder so many of their girls had elected to stay with their other specie master. They might not ever have children, but at least they would not be mutilated and have their magic stolen.

The unicorns had tried chopping off the girl’s horns just before turning them over to their new owners to get around the problem of no returns. But the other tribes had decided that counted as trying to pass off spoiled goods. Though the real outrage was over mutilating a perfectly healthy female. Plus, a unicorn with her horn intact was a far more valuable commodity than one without, and traumatized from the loss to boot.

The unicorn race had almost died out then and there before they agreed that they would leave all their females intact until after they had performed their public service. It only delayed the inevitable however. As far as Domi knew there had not been a female unicorn in the valley for over five hundred years. Only earth pony mares were more rare. Why the last two males were still around was a mystery, but Domi agreed with the general consensus in the valley that the air would be a lot cleaner and smell better once those two kicked the bucket.

Domi looked up at the sky and judged that they didn't’ have a lot of daylight left. The bar had rooms on top of it, the closest the small town came to having an inn. BF was welcome to the no-doubt flea-infested civilized bed. As for Domi, he’d be spending his time in a nice snug bedroll under a spreading pine outside of town.

Domi stretched his arms out, revealing a reach that rivaled that of the taller prince. He worked his shoulder and neck, getting the kinks out. While doing this he gave the street a quick scan.
It was late in the day and there was not too much going on so the task was quick and easy.

He needed to milk his balls if he was going to get through the night without suffering discomfort. There would be several girls in the bar, ready to take care of any male in need. But Domi always liked, when he could find it, semi-private pussy. One which hadn’t already milked a couple of dozen males that day.

The most obvious source for this were the nearby pegasus pony and her gryphon friend who were bent over a pair of side by side fucking stands. Their bellies and upper torso were supported by the padded top of the bench and they were secured to the front edge by the rings attached to their black collars.

The two females were chatting away a mile a minute with the two males plowing them from behind, another set of pegasus and gryphon. Their cocks were shuttling in and out of the girl’s with the enthusiasm of youth. The slap, slap, slap, of muscular thighs slapping against firm asses was clearly audible even this far away. This caused the girl’s speech to be rather staccato, but they didn’t let that slow down their chatter, beyond an occasional grunt or moan as the boys hit a particular sweet spot. A pretty good indication that this was not their first time being ridden by this particular pair of males.

The boys were likely their boyfriends from back home, come to pay them a visit, or just friends, come to see how they were doing. Of course the pony was screwing the hen, and the gryphon the mare. Same species sex was forbidden until they finished their public service service. Even sex of the non-procreative variety. So the two boys could not switch partners and nail the two girl’s tight little asses, or sample the oral pleasure they might offer.

Mind you, knowing the culture that the two tribes had created between them it might actually be their boyfriends who were frantically working up a huge load to drop into their respective partner’s wombs. Such marriages were far from uncommon. It allowed the married pair to restrict themselves to just each other with no worries about an unplanned pregnancy. Something that was sure to happen if a wife who was fertile with her mate tried to take care of all his needs on her own.

Many males like the arrangement, so Domi had been told, because it played into the common male fantasy of having their very own private slave for their exclusive use.

Children were not a problem. There were plenty of surrogate males willing to step in, if and when, the couple decided they wanted offspring.

As Domi watched the foursome, the pegasus mare reached across with her wing and tickled the male pony who was pumping his long cock in and out of her friend’s vent, disturbing his rhythm and almost making him fall out of the hen, who at that moment was gasping and panting and clearly on the verge of an orgasm. An orgasm that was spoiled by his screwed up stroke. She let him know in no uncertain terms she was not at all happy with this.

The pegasus stallion scowled and reached across to spank the filly hard across the flank in retaliation. This earning a giggle from both the girls as the gryphon hen figured out what had gone wrong. She returned her friend’s prank by using her wing to tickle the male gryphon under the chin. Causing him to jolt backward. Unlike the pegasus he did lose his place. His cock popped free of the mare’s quim just as he came. A shining fountain of sperm sprayed over the mare’s back and ass. This caused the other three friends to roar with laughter and tease the chagrined gryphon for his lack of control.

Domi smiled indulgently. He always liked to see friends fucking. Made a nice change from the more common, Git her done, attitude of so many males. He’d always hoped he’d someday find a slave he could share such a comradeship with. But the passing of the years made it more and more unlikely he’d ever find a slave like that.

Domi considered the foursome. It was a bit strange to see four of the winged folk down here in the dirt. Likely the only reason the two girls were doing their public service here in Stagville was because they wanted to see something besides the floor or ceiling of their cloud home over the next ten years, and maybe because they had a yen to sample a larger variety of males than they would if they stayed home. The system did encourage both genders to sow their wild oats in as many fields as possible before they settled down to happy married life.

It was a bit frustrating, though. He had been hoping to make use of one of those girls himself before tucking in for the night. Getting to screw one of the winged folks was a rare treat for a ground bound beast like him. That wasn’t likely to happen now. The two boys were going to monopolize the two girls for the rest of the evening if he was any judge. He could have, as was his right, asked to cut in between sessions while the boys recharged in their girlfriends’ mouths. But the romantic buried deep under his scarred hide protested butting into the gathering of four friends uninvited.

Still it was nice to see young love in action.

Domi sighed and looked away from the rutting lovers. None of this romantic mush was getting his balls drained. He scanned the street again, looking to see if there were any other black collars in sight. Without any luck. Most likely they were all inside the bar, taking care of the majority of the town males. No doubt BF would be balls deep inside one in the next few minutes, if he wasn’t already.

Domi resumed looking for potential ball drainers when he stopped his scan and blinked his eyes in disbelief as he spotted what had to be an earth pony. He didn’t think there were any of them left in Caridoon. They’d all gone extinct due to their having been no male earth ponies in their tribe when they had first arrived.

Maybe this one had been born to a pegasus couple? Pony genetics tended to be strange. A pegasus or unicorn mare would sometimes give birth to a foal that belonged to one of the other two pony races. While rare, it was known to happen. If this mare’s parents were pegasi, he felt sorry for her. She’d lack the ability to live in the clouds with her parents.

It was likely why she was here in this backwater town. Her parents would have wanted to keep her well away from the unicorns who lived in the largest city in Caridoon. She’d be prime breeding stock for them. They’d have moved heaven and earth to get hold of her. Last he had heard the bounty for an Earth pony was enough to set a male up for life, or to buy himself two or three quality black collars. Nothing compared to what the bounty on a unicorn mare was. But only a total scumbag would sell one of those to the unicorns. Not when the first thing they’d do to her was chop off her horn.

It did make him wonder about the ponies and their place in Caridoon.

It was one of the quirks of the culture that the three pony races were considered separate species and could be kept as black collars by each other even though they could theoretically interbreed. Or at least the unicorns kept insisting that was the case. Despite the fact that as far as Domi knew no unicorn had ever knocked up a pegasus mare on the rare occasion they’d gotten their hands on one. Not that it really mattered these days. It was not something that was likely to be tested. There were no Unicorn mares anymore and as this girl’s presence demonstrated, no pegasus parent would in a million years let his daughter near a unicorn.

The reddish pony with the brown and green striped mane was very attractive, and had a very nice set of breasts despite looking like she was just barely old enough to be wearing her collar. But the brilliant red that screamed untouchable, underaged, or not willing to take up the black collar, was impossible to miss and she wasn’t wearing one. But to his disappointment she was wearing a grey collar. Meaning she was running an errand for the manager of her hostel, or some other senior town official and was not to be delayed or interfered with.

Too bad, she looked like she’d be nice and tight, and if the legends were true, very stretchy. Earth Ponies were suppose to have a capacity all out of proportion to their size. Seeing such an exotic female in such an unlikely spot caused his cock to shift under his fur. It didn’t fully inflate. It took more than the sight of a nice looking female to do that to Domi these days. At least if it hadn’t been more than twelve hours since he’d last emptied his balls. In that case a good looking knothole was enough to make him hard.

That was just as well. It was proving hard enough to find a relief slave without scaring any potential ladies away by giving them a good look at his full endowment.

Ursine females tended to be much larger than the males and were the far more dangerous members of the tribe. Back in the days when they had first arrived in the valley poorly endowed males had not lived to pass on their defective genes. The result was that very few females, who were not twice Domi’s size, could handle what he sported between his legs without a great deal of strain that often prevented them from taking full enjoyment from the coupling. While there had been a few females over the years who had deserved a little discomfort, in general Domi was not interested in causing his partners distress. The result was that he very seldom got to use more than two thirds of what he had been gifted with by genetics.

Such a pity the earth mare wasn’t available. He would have liked to check if that particular myth were true. Reluctantly he turned away from the nice looking mare and scanned the street for other possibilities.

The only other females in sight all wore gold collars, which indicated that the female in question had done their ten years of community service and were now totally independent and could select their own partners, or choose to live celibate, though few did. Besides the difference in color the gold collars also lacked the restraint rings of any of the other collars, including the grey and red where the rings were mostly symbolic. Their only purpose, like the red collar, was to announce that this female was untouchable. Though in this case you could ask and she likely be in favor of some touching, and more. But likely not with an old run down Ursine. Not when they had their pick of the finest males in the village.

What Domi didn’t spot, and was not surprised by, was a female without a collar at all. Any female without a collar, and thus classified, was considered fair game for any male who came across her.

Almost without exception a girl without a collar was a gold collar out looking for a new master, but having no interest in making that decision for themselves. Some girls just could not handle freedom and independence after ten years of having next to no control over their bodies and what was done to it.

Far more rare was a girl running away from home because she did not like the service, or owner, her guardian had selected for her. She’d rather take her chances that the first male to find her without a collar would be better than the alternative. Not very smart. Which was why it really only happened in bad romance novels where the girl without fail finds her true love just waiting to snap a collar around her neck. Or at least the male who would become her true love after he’d spent a few weeks bringing out her true inner slut. Or if they were really sophisticated, the evil bastard her true love would save her from.

In real life any male who found a young girl without a collar would, if he were at all smart, take her to the nearest authority to make sure she was actually old enough to wear a black collar.

There was a large public fund set up to pay a substantial bounty to any male who turned in an under-aged girl. It was a win, win for the male. If she wasn’t under aged, he got a free slave. If she was, he got enough money to buy himself a slave of his very own.

A red collar who really was under-aged, but looked mature, and managed to sneak out of home without her collar would be given a good thrashing. Followed by a very stern lecture on why little girls who were not ready for a black collar should not be in such a hurry to grow up. Their time would come.

Obviously under-aged females were not required to wear any collars. Any male who tried to put a black collar on a clearly underaged female would be lucky if he only lost his balls.

Domi was contemplating if it was worth the trouble to try and sweet talk a gold collar into helping a poor old male in distress when he felt eyes behind him. He looked over his shoulder and spotted the earth pony he had seen before just as she darted out of sight around a corner. A moment later she peeked out from behind it. Her eyes focused on BF. Of course she’d only have eyes for Blue Thunder. Not for the first time Domi wondered, What sort of idiot picks a name like Blue Thunder on their naming day?

The reddish earth pony with the green and brown mane caught him looking, and ducked out of sight. That made him curious. Females who tried to avoid attention always drew his eyes. It was likely a holdover from living so long in the woods where what you didn’t see was more likely to kill you then what you did. Domi ghosted back into the shadows behind him, and set out to investigate this curiosity.

**************************

The young earth pony, Signe ducked out of sight and cursed to herself as she ducked out of sight. The fat old ursine had seen her looking at the prince. He must have eyes in the back of over-sized fat head.

What was she going to do? The tall stag just had to be a prince, he was so handsome, and his rack. Every girl in the hostel knew that the size of the rack indicated the size in the pants. Her cunt was soaking in anticipation just from looking at his display. This was where her talent could really come to the fore. Signe had discovered early in her service that she could handle cocks her fellow slaves had difficulty with, if not easily, at least eventually, if the male tried hard enough. Signe didn’t mind the stress that accompanied having her insides rearranged by a particularly large cock. The reward in the end made the initial discomfort more than worth it. There was just something so wonderful about being so well filled and stretched. A really well endowed male might appreciate a slave with a talent like that.

She directed a scornful thought toward the fat Ursine. That one likely had a little bitty cock. You couldn’t even see a sign of it and he wasn’t even wearing pants. You’d think he’d cover up just to keep from being a public joke.

Signe felt positively daring at thinking such a bad thing about a male. Slaves were suppose to treat all males equally and in need of the service she was obligated to supply during her term of public service. It was hardly their fault if some masters were not as gifted in the looks, or size department as some of their fellow males.

That was the theory, but Signe didn’t know a single slave who didn’t have a story about a master who just did not have what it took to float her boat.

Constant safe sex was a major fringe benefit of being a slave. It was just about their only short term compensation for becoming public property for ten years. Knowing that once you had served your duty you would be taken care of for the rest of your life gave a slave little satisfaction while she was trying to wring some small drop of pleasure out of a master who didn’t have a clue about how to make a slave feel good.

Now the prince, he would certainly sport a cock that would rival a mountain dragon if his impressive spread of tangs was anything to go by. And she was sure he would know how to wield such a mighty weapon to the benefit of any girl lucky enough to serve under him.

Surely such a well endowed master would have frequent needs? Above and beyond the average master who only required the services of a slave two or three times a day.

That meant this was a perfect opportunity for Signe. Seeing as how the prince had no slave in his adventuring party. He didn’t even have a gold collared female for that matter. She was a bit surprised at that. If Signe had been a gold collar and free to choose the cock she got to ride everyday she’d have been all over the prince like bees on honey.

Hard as it was to believe that such a handsome male would not have females battering down his door and begging to serve him, amazingly and fortunately, it seemed to be true. Signe had heard it from another slave while she and Signe were both bent over a padded fucking rail. It seemed that the two males were in town specifically to acquire a slave to service their needs while they traveled all over the country.

That was all the information Signe got from the cow because another pair of stags had decided that if they were so bored they could talk, they could use their mouths for something more useful. By the time Signe’s stag had emptied himself down her throat the other female, a former gold collar who had decided to take up the black again, had left with her master/husband. But, Signe had learned all she needed to know. The prince was looking for a personal slave. To accompany him away from this small one pony town.

This was Signe’s chance, the moment she been waiting for. Stagville was a town with an aging population. Most young people left it as soon as they could. There were barely a dozen males in town who weren’t committed to a permanent relationship with a girl who had already done her ten years of service and was entitled to a gold collar. With six other girls living in the hostel that didn’t leave much hope for Signe landing a male who was interested in an exclusive arrangement, and had the money to pay for it. Signe desperately wanted to find a real master, and not just a stag who needed her for a few minutes. It wasn’t that she minded her job, but it was so boring. The fucking was great. Waiting around between stags was a real drag. She wanted to see the world. If she’d been born with wings like her parents she’d have been able to see the entire valley from above. Instead all she got was a sturdy earth pony body and grounded for life. If she had to spend all her time on the ground, at least she could hope she’d get to see different ground on a regular basis. She had talents beyond simply being a set of nice tight holes for males to ease the pressure in their balls. She could cook and clean. Well, a little bit.

Surely the prince would need a full time slave to cook and clean as well as to fuck. He had no male servants to do those duties. Besides the old bear, that is. Signe was sure she could do better than the ursine at those duties, and look a lot better doing it. Who’d want to look at his hairy ass bent over a campfire stirring the evening meal when they could look at her pert little plot? If she could only attract the prince’s attention she just knew he’d snatch her up to travel with him, and if he did that she’d have time to show just how talented she was. Even if she had to fuck the old fat bear as well it would be worth it. Anything would be better than staying in this backwater town and fucking the same stags over and over again for the next ten years. Listening to the same old jokes and tired old stories again and again.

Signe looked around to see if anyone was looking at her, and then checked the grey collar that covered her regular black collar, making sure the string she had tied around the ends was still holding it firmly in place.

She was taking a great risk doing this and she certainly did not want to be discovered. Only the old male caribou in charge of her hostel was permitted to give her permission to wear the grey. Only he was able to seal the collar properly. What she had done, taking the grey from where it hung and securing it around her neck over her black collar was absolutely forbidden. It was so unthinkable there wasn’t even a specific rule against it, though she imagined they’d quickly dream up a punishment if she were discovered for all of that. And they’d have no difficulty in figuring out why she had done it. The wrong reason, but the one that would make the most sense to a master.

They’d think she was a slacker. A mare who wanted the privileges that came from doing a tour as a slave, without paying the dues. She bet if she was caught she’d spend a full twenty-four hours in the town pillory.

The last slave that had happened to had been caught in the act of lifting the wallet of the male she was servicing. Every single male in town, and the surrounding area, had considered it their personal duty to service the stupid slut of a female to the full extent of their capabilities in order to show her the error of her ways. Though some of the gold collars had told Signe that it really hadn’t been about the girl’s crime. Not really. It had just been an excuse for a good old fashioned dick measuring contest.

Not that the reason for their enthusiasm made much difference to the cow in question. When they were finished with her she had looked six months pregnant from the amount of spunk filling her belly and womb, and It had taken a whole week before she could walk straight. And twice as long as that before the welts across her rump healed.

Signe could not really fault her fate, or disagree that she would deserve punishment if she was caught. Being a sex slave was one of the most respected jobs in Caridoon. That fact had been drummed into her at the hostel where she had grown up, along with several other girls who for were orphaned, or like Signe could not live at home with her parents.

The stability of their entire nation relied on the slaves who helped keep the males sane. That was the reason why ten years of service was considered sufficient to earn the slave a full pension for the rest of her life once she had finished her term of service.

To try and gain that regard, while at the same time dodging her duties would be seen as the ultimate theft. If she hadn’t wanted to become a black collar she could have remained a red collar, the thinking would go. Signe shuddered at the idea. No matter how old a red collar became, she would never be considered a proper adult.

That was the last thing Signe wanted. She had wanted to be an adult more than anything else in the world. The last few months before she had been eligible to take the black collar had seemed to drag on forever. It had been even worse than the year she’d waited for her cutie mark, a pair of pegasus wings, to show up. She wasn’t using the grey collar to get out of doing her duty, she was wearing it so she wasn’t occupied when her chance at the prince came. After all, if she became his personal service pony, she’d be at his and his friends call twenty-four-seven. Not just during her twelve hour shift like she currently was. Would she do that if she were a slacker? Signe certainly didn’t think so.

That was why this morning she had taken advantage of the elderly hostel keeper who put the collars on the girls each morning before they went out to work. He never bothered to see them out the door. He was very old and rarely got out of his chair except to get a new stick to whittle into a switch. He had an entire barrel of them beside his chair, soaking in brine. He never used them, but he liked to threaten the girls that one of these days they’d push him too far and he’d use up the whole barrel on them.

Signe had taken advantage of his inattention to slip a grey collar off its hook by the door as she’d raced out of the hostel.

If the missing collar was discovered before Signe could return it, all six girls would be switched on general principles. By someone a lot younger and stronger than the old hostel keeper. Signe would be sorry for her fellow slaves, sharing her deserved punishment. But not enough to stop herself from taking this chance at a more interesting life.

All of that didn’t matter, Signe told herself. She had a plan. She was not going to get caught. She had to believe that or she’d never be able to pull this off.

The grey collar would keep any random stag from tossing her over a fucking bench, or taking her to the bar to service him and his friends. On any other day she’d have been perfectly fine with that. But she she could not afford that this day of all days. The prince might pick one of the other girls while Signe had a cock up her ass and another down her throat. The grey collar would let her wait in ambush for just the right moment.

As soon as she could get close enough to the prince she’d slip the grey collar off without anyone seeing and casually step out where he could see her.

Earth ponies were suppose to be rare, and desired as an exotic, though you wouldn’t have known it from the locals. It was time she got some advantage out of her misfortune of birth and snagging the prince’s attention with her rarity would do the trick.

Signe knew she was downplaying the risk, but she had to take this chance. The prince was rich. You only had to look at his clothes and the fact he had a servant to know that. Even if that servant was an old fat ursine.

Signe told herself again she had no choice. There were no earth pony stallions. For her to marry a male after she got her gold collar she had to impress some strong powerful male, like the prince. Make him fall in love with her and her talented cunny. Enough so that he would be willing to take her as his life time lover even though she couldn’t give him children.

Signe peered around the corner and saw the prince walking her way. She reached up to loosen the grey collar in preparation of pulling it off. She gave a gasp of surprise when she felt large fingers take hold of her loose ties and pull the grey collar right off her neck.

“Well, how about that? I thought one of these would only come off in the hands of the male who put it on. Isn’t that just the strangest thing you ever saw?” a gruff voice rumbled behind her, his mouth so close to her ear she could feel his hot breath tickling the tiny hairs that fringed its edges.