Sweet Apple Discipline

In the new partition of the Sweet Apple Acres farmhouse, built for the soon-to-be expanded Apple family, Mac was sitting in his armchair after a hard day's work. At the bottom of his chair knelt Scootaloo, massaging his feet. The irony that spunky, punky Scootaloo had become the most thoroughly tamed of the trio was not lost on him. Fearful of punishment and desperate to please, she seemingly spent half her mind and all of her body trying to anticipate Mac's wishes. It wasn't hard to see why, after all, her shoulder would twitch in pain if he so much as raised his voice.

The first thing she had asked for once her shoulders healed was to be allowed to join him in his bed, a body pillow for her new owner. His raised eyebrow would cow her, and his hand on her hair made her melt. He found her terror adorable, in a way. The first week living at the farm, she had dropped a mug of his coffee, and immediately begged to be allowed to lick his asshole to apologize for it, crying that she'd do anything, just pleading him not to give her another enema. At the time, he'd chuckled and told her to clean up the mess while he decided what to do with her, but he had no intention of such a harsh punishment. She'd cried with joy when he told her that her punishment was having no dessert after dinner that night, though he still accepted a rimjob as a token of her gratitude. Now, the thought of needing to punish her with an enema seemed ridiculous, not least because of her swollen, seven-month pregnant belly.

She was such a good girl.

In the kitchen, Sweetie Belle sung softly along to the radio. Of the three, she had changed the least, completely adjusting to her new role as servant-wife and brood mother. She cooked and sewed and helped Applejack with the farm's paperwork, she sang and read books and occasionally talked to the few townsfolk who would lower themselves to speak to the trio, and when Mac pinched her ass or groped her tits she'd kneel down before him and suck him dry, swallowing every drop with a wink and a grin. He'd stopped fucking them late in their pregnancies out of concern for their health, and Sweetie Belle was the one who had actually seemed disappointed by this.

He had high hopes for this one.

His sister walked into the farmhouse, flushed and sullen-faced, carrying a bundle of firewood that she'd been chopping up outside, bare-chested to avoid working up a sweat. Apple Bloom was a real hellcat, and Mac loved it. She was the only one of the three who dared voice discontent at their new roles, the only one who would point out the barbaric cruelty of their treatment and how it completely outweighed their offenses, and as such she was the only one who was still regularly punished. She made Mac chase her around for the first few weeks but eventually she would take it, approaching him with loathing in her eyes, stripping her jeans and underwear off, and laying across his lap to be spanked until she cried herself hoarse.

She was pregnant too, though less visibly than the others, only five months in. They'd grown tired of having to punish her so often--as entertaining as tying her to a fence pole, pissing on her, and leaving her to wilt under the hot summer sun with his cum drying on her face was, it took away a valuable working member of the farm. Mac had wanted to impregnate her early to make her a little less rebellious, but Applejack had talked him out of knocking her up himself--she was an Apple, after all, and they needed strong breeding stock.

So instead he'd got thirty of the strongest men in Ponyville, trussed up Apple Bloom with straps, belts, and buckles, suspended from a beam in the barn at hip height, and let them have a crack at her. She'd lost her virginity that night, and they'd stopped counting how many times she'd been fucked after she reached the first hundred. Mac had set up a doggy bowl underneath her for sperm to drip out of, and once the men were done she'd shown her gratitude by drinking down the pint of collected jizz.

The last time Mac had needed to properly punish her, she'd been going through morning sickness. It had been trivial to get the thirty men who impregnated her to jerk off with her mouth, filling her belly with jizz until she inevitably threw up, and then forcing her to lick up everything she'd spewed. She had to drink it all over again three times, with new loads here and there as her audience got bored and hard again, and after that she was close enough to broken for Mac to be satisfied. No more running, no fighting, no real dreams of a better life, just mean glares and harsh words that begged for the good, kind brother she once knew.

She put the firewood down and fed the fire, walked through to the kitchen without even glancing at Mac, and returned with a cold bottle of beer. She clicked the bottle open and passed it to him, before kneeling at his feet the opposite side to Scootaloo.

He took a swig and asked, "Fed the pigs, lil' sis?"

"Yes, big brother."

"Mulched the cider apples?"

"Yes, big brother."

"Gave the garbage man a personal thank-you for the extra collection he did?"

Her face scrunched up, and she shuddered. "Yes, big brother."

"Mighty fine work, lil' sis. Now, I don't want a blowjob 'til after we've ate," he cupped her chin in a massive hand and placed his thumb on her lip, "but I'd sure like to see you practice your technique while we wait for Sweetie Belle to finish up."

She stared off at nothing and opened her mouth, taking his thumb inside and sucking it like a cock. Mac relaxed, luxuriating in the sensations from both his sister and from Scootaloo's footrub. He could smell dinner and hear Sweetie Belle's soft singing. Three teenagers, fresh and young and servile. He couldn't help but feel a glow of pride within his chest.

He'd made the three girls who they were, after all.