Rarity shut the door of the Canterlot Boutique behind Applejack, and loosened her necktie. Applejack turned to face her, and they nuzzled.

They slid their faces together, soft white fur against buzz-cut orange. Rarity took control, pressing her tongue between her marefriend’s freckled lips. She had become so familiar with that mouth over the past few months — the chipped incisor on the lower left, the gold crown on the back right molar, the larger, thicker tongue that was nonetheless so eager to be pushed around, restrained, dominated.

Rarity’s mane stood on end. When she’d first gotten into bed with Applejack, it had been a drunken lark; they’d meant to share Trenderhoof — just two straight mares having a good time with a willing stallion. And she would never suggest Trenderhoof had been anything but skillful and considerate as a lover. Indeed, his effeminate demeanor belied an absolute passion for female flesh. But after an hour of foreplay, orally pleasuring both of them, and then rolling them over and taking turns mounting them for a heroic amount of time, he had been a sweaty, shivering, barely conscious lump. And Rarity had been in the mood for more fun. Of course, she had been aware since her days at Smart Cookie University that she was not exclusively heterosexual, but she had no idea about her vigorous and very handsome friend Applejack. She had hazarded a kiss, and her curiosity had been richly rewarded.

Back in the present moment, Rarity had turned Applejack around, and was pushing her back against the door. Who’d have thought that the tough farm girl would be the submissive of the two of them? Well, Rarity would have — she was submissive with stallions, but dominant with mares, and that was the way of things. She’d worried that Applejack might balk at her more exotic interests, but she’d proved to be a more than willing student.

Rarity broke the kiss, nipped Applejack’s lower lip, and whispered, “Tell me you want me.”

Applejack gulped. There was a look of fear in her green eyes. Rarity had expected that fear to fade after a few sessions, but it never had — apparently Rarity was a suitably intimidating mistress.

“Aw, sugar cube, you know I can’t get enough of you,” Applejack said, her voice trembling.

“I know, darling, but I never get tired of hearing it.” Rarity ran her tongue along one of the long tendons in Applejack’s throat after she spoke, wetting the fur and savoring the rapid heartbeat she could feel from the vein beneath.

“I want you… I need you, Rarity. I… I put on a dress for you.”

Rarity chuckled. “Indeed, you did. At a fancy party, no less. And it is a marvelous dress. All eyes were on you. But your eyes were only on me.”

Applejack nodded. Rarity kissed her again, quickly, and left her trembling and breathing hard, her magnificent rump pressed against the boutique door. It must have presented quite a sight from the street.

“And the suit,” said Rarity, shrugging out of the jacket and heading for the back room. “Do you think I carried it off? ‘Drag’ is such a crude term, but it feels good to transgress boundaries from time to time, does it not? The look on Mrs. Harshwhinny’s face alone was worth it.”

“You looked… well, you looked better than a drink of water to a nanny goat in a sandstorm.”

Rarity batted her eyelashes at Applejack from across the room. “Really dearest heart, where do you come up with these things? Anyway, are you coming in back with me, or not?”

“Well, that depends. Are we playing, or are we playing playing? ‘Cause if it’s the second, I kind’a need your permission, don’t I?”

“Well, then, let us say that we are playing playing. Convince me that you deserve to come across the room to me. Do try to put your heart into it; I like it when you grovel.”

Applejack fell to her knees, and laid her chin against the floor. “Mistress Rarity, I am not worthy to unbuckle your saddlebags, but I offer myself to you, body and soul, to use as you see fit.”

Rarity felt a little shiver pass down her spine. “Oh. That was a good grovel. Come closer, and say it again.”

Applejack narrowed her eyes. “Wait. Let me get this straight. I finally get out a really good grovel, and that means I’ve got to do it again?”

Rarity nodded. “Yes. I am your mistress, and I make the rules. Even if they are silly and arbitrary ones. In fact, especially if they are silly and arbitrary. I also with to remind you that insubordination will be punished accordingly. So please advance ten paces across the floor and grovel again.”

Applejack crossed the floor with a noble stride, and knelt again. “Mistress Rarity, I long to serve you in any way possible. Would you kindly please allow me to do so?”

“That wasn’t quite as good, but yes, I feel you’ve groveled adequately. Please remove your dress, and place it neatly on the counter. I will be preparing certain… apparatus in the workroom.”

“Not a problem, Mistress Rarity. I’ll shuck this nonsense and be in there in two shakes of hog’s tail.” She reached beneath her barrel with her hooves to undo the clasps of her dress. With a careless shrug, she slid the soft green fabric over her shoulders, baring the powerful, well-defined muscles of her chest.

“Actually, I think I will stay and watch you disrobe,” said Rarity, smiling.

Applejack shrugged, stepped out of her dress, and bunched it up in her hooves. “You can come by my farm and see me naked any old time, Rarity. I mean, Mistress.”

“Don’t… linen… no… neatly,” said Rarity, shaking with rage at the way Applejack was handling her dress.

“Oh. Right. Sorry Mistress,” said Applejack, unbunching her dress and folding it neatly.

“Set it carefully on the counter and get your magnificently muscular derrière in here. You had better believe there will be spankings for wrinkling up linen!”

She stepped into the workroom. It was a place of calm, to her. A refuge — maybe not so much as the Carousel Boutique, but a home away from home, at least. Tonight, it had a different role. An arrangement of carefully woven ropes hung from the ceiling, ready for its willing victim. Rarity took a deep, anticipatory breath, hung up her suit coat on a mannequin, rolled up her sleeves, and levitated over her bag of mistress things. Behind her, she heard Applejack stepping in through the door. She opened up her bag and setting out her riding crop and paddle alongside a butt plug and an unlabeled jar of lube.

“Listen, Mistress, I’m powerful sorry about the dress. I should have known better than to…”

“Oh, think nothing of it, dearest heart. Why should it occur to you to worry about wrinkling linen? You are, after all, only a simple farm pony, are you not? Step forward into the hoist, please.”

Rarity’s horn glowed as Applejack stepped into the straps hanging from the ceiling. Ropes coiled out, snakelike, from piles she’s prepared, snaking up Applejack’s legs and around her barrel, strapping her into the hoist. Applejack shied as the ropes whipped around her, but it was too late for her to escape. Rarity trussed her around the middle, corseting her thick body. The ropes gave her an hourglass-like shape strange for a pony.

She lashed all four legs together in what was known as a ‘rodeo’ configuration, a name that gave her no end of amusement when dealing with Applejack. She had to be careful to avoid injuring the nerve clusters at her joints and the inside of her legs. Special loops at Applejack’s rear dug into her fat, muscular orange ass, pulling the cheeks apart and digging into them, readying them for abuse. Once everything else was in place, Rarity slipped a carefully woven ‘bridle’ configuration over Applejack’s head. The rope ‘bit’ in her mouth would allow her to speak only enough to say their basic red/yellow/green safeword. And to scream. There would hopefully be a great deal of screaming. Finally, she hooked a rope between the back of Applejack’s head and the center of her back, forcing her to hold her head high and slightly lifted — a magnificent, if very uncomfortable pose.

Rarity turned the crank on the far wall with her magic. Applejack’s hooves lifted off the ground. Her eyes rolled, watching the floor as it inched away from her.

“There. Are we comfortable?” said Rarity.

“Nuh-uh,” said Applejack.

“Good. But… green?”

“Ghrn,” agreed Applejack.

“Oh, lovely. Very lovely.” She yanked the riding crop from the table behind her with her magic. “Now. About that dress.”

She walked around Applejack, tapping her crop absent-mindedly against her hip. Applejack’s bottom was a work of art, thick, square, corded with muscle and marbled with jiggly fat. And Rarity had such plans for her delicate little ponut. But there was no point in rushing. She would start and the front and work backwards.

“We have been a very naughty filly,” said Rarity, and tapped the crop lightly on each side of Applejack’s face — more of a caress than a blow, but Applejack flinched nonetheless.

“Oh, really, darling, do show a little of that famous Apple Family bravery. If you can’t handle a little love tap like that, what are you going to do when I get to your rear end?” She ran the crop down along Applejack’s throat, tapped it against the large muscles of her chest. “How long have you known me? We went to school together, darling. Do you remember my presentations on various fabrics? Do you remember what I said about how easily natural fabrics wrinkle?”

Rarity smacked Applejack across the chest with the crop, and the other mare whimpered through her bit. Rarity struck her again, leaving a pink cross of pain glowing between the points of Applejack’s shoulders. “Well, I supposed you’re repentant enough. And we both know I’m going to hit you no matter what you do.” Rarity snapped the crop against the parts of Applejack’s withers and shoulders not covered by rope. “I do need to get to the back end sooner rather than later. It can just take more punishment than the rest of you.”

Rarity slid the tip of her riding crop over Applejack’s croup. “You really are more attractive going than coming. Not that your face is anything but perfect. But this… this masterpiece almost defies description.” Rarity stepped behind Applejack, and ran the frogs over Applejack’s rump from top to bottom, lifting up the heavy flesh and letting it bounce back into place. “There really is nothing like kicking apples out of trees all day to sculpt and perfect the muscles in that region, is there?”

Rarity lifted Applejack’s tail with her magic, and summoned another rope to tie it back. “Oh, and you have such a lovely rosebud. I simply must have a taste.” She opened her mouth, and took Applejack’s ponut between her full lips, sucking it and running her tongue back and forth over it, savoring the silky texture of Applejack’s skin. “Delightful,” she purred. “You know, I was having Fluttershy over tea the other day…”

“Ovr fur tea,” mumbled Applejack. Her rope gag was making her drool, and droplets were forming on the edge of her jawline.

Rarity smacked Applejack lightly on the dock with her crop, and Applejack yelped in surprise and pain. “Don’t interrupt, darling, I said what I mean to say. Anyhow, who would have guessed that our dear Fluttershy is an absolute fiend for anal play. She’s very accomplished at it, and can accommodate toys of simply astonishing size! I wish you to develop this skill as well. Though of course, we’ll have to start you with something much smaller.” She levitated over the butt plug and the lubricant, and began liberally applying the lube to both the toy and Applejack’s ponut. Applejack twisted in her restraints, rolling her eyes, trying, without success, to get a look at what Rarity was doing back there.

“Bear down, as though you were trying to… ah… you know... pass. But don’t actually pass anything, if at all possible. That would be distressing. There. That’s perfect. You’re opening up just like a good little rosebud should.” Rarity pressed the tip of the butt plug into Applejack’s opening, twisting it and working it slowly in and out. “We must be patient. Perfection does not come easily. Yes. Yes, that’s very good.”

The bulb of the butt plug passed inside Applejack’s anus, and the opening closed around it, hungry, leaving only the wide, flat base nestled under her dock.

“There! That’s wonderful. Are we comfortable?”

“Nuh-uh,” grunted Applejack.

“Good,” said Rarity, and smacked Applejack’s ass soundly with her crop. Applejack jerked in her bonds, and whimpered in pain. Rarity pulled back the crop with all of her telekinetic might, and brought it down on the other cheek. She went on, alternating sides, until there was a pattern of red lines across Applejacks ass. Applejack clenched her teeth around her rope bit, sweat dripping down her forehead. She groaned with every blow, trying to maintain a shred of dignity under Rarity’s merciless assault.

“Darling, is that sad little whine all you can come out with? I think we can do better than that.” She traced the fat pout of Applejack’s pussy with the tip of her crop, stroking it with tickling lightness. “Do we have to bring your lovely flower into play? It would hurt a great deal if I were to hit that, wouldn’t it?” She pulled the crop back, savoring The way Applejack’s powerful muscles strained at her bonds in anticipation of the blow. But she struck the cusp of one of her ass cheeks instead. “What do you think?”

Applejack had the good sense to let out a powerful, very sincere wail.

Rarity entertained herself for several minutes, smacking those lower curves, then working her way up to the top of Applejack’s croup. The delicious, consensual cruelty was making Rarity’s heart race and her loins rather moist. She would never, ever do these things to an unwilling pony, but the fact that Applejack could get out of this at any time, the fact that she so clearly wanted it, only made the sadism more piquant. Mind you, Applejack fancied herself a tough pony, and liked to see how much pain she could handle. Rarity would like to see if she could finally break the mare, and make her into a hungry, willing slave who would accept any indignity, but she suspected crude physical means would not be enough for that. Psychological tortures might go deeper, but that was an enterprise for another night. For now, the crop was growing stale for her. It was time for the paddle.

Without explaining what she was doing, Rarity set aside the crop, and levitated the large wooden board with a handle sculpted like a stallion’s cock. A lovely touch, that. She rotated it straight up and down, and slid the flat side caressingly across Applejack’s ass. “Do you feels that?” purred Rarity. “In a few seconds, I’m going to be hitting you with this paddle with all my telekinetic might. And, may I remind you that thanks to my association with Her Royal Highness, that might is considerable.”

Rarity admired the way Applejack’s breaths grew deeper and more ragged from her threats alone, watching her rib cage move and shudder, rope digging into her flesh as she breathed. Rarity pulled back the board and gave Applejack a light smack — hardly more than a tap, really, but fear made Applejack jerk away from it as if it were a much stronger blow. Rarity nodded with satisfaction. She proceeded slowly, giving Applejack’s anticipation time to rise in between. The way the handsome orange mare’s ass flesh rippled away from the impact, reverberating even after she drew the paddle away, made Rarity’s hind knees weak with lust. The only thing for it was to hit her again, harder than before. As the blows rained down, and Applejack’s ass gradually changed from orange to bright red, her stoic groans gradually gave way to outraged screams.

Rarity paused to admire her handiwork, tapping her paddle against one hoof, looking over Apprlejack’s bruised and swollen bottom with a craftspony’s pride. Applejack was whimpering… shaking… was she crying? Oh dear. Rarity rushed around her friend, her mistress’s demeanor falling away as she pulled the bit from her mouth.

“Applejack! Applejack! Are you all right?” said Rarity, stroking her friend’s wet cheeks and pushing her sweat-soaked bangs out of her eyes.

“I’m… I’m fine,” she sniffled. “I’m a tough pony.”

“You are, darling, You’re a very tough pony. But even though ponies have their limits. You should have used our safeword!” crooned Rarity. Guilt was beginning to roil in her guts — here she’s been fantasizing about breaking her brave friend, but it wasn’t so much fun when it actually happened. “I shall unbind you at once!”

“No!” said Applejack.

“I beg your pardon?” said Rarity.

“I think I’m done with the spanking, but… if it’s okay with you, Mistress, I think I’d like to come, tied up like this, with my ass hurting and something shoved in under my tail. I’d… I’d really like that. Please.”

“Well, since you beg so nicely.” Rarity unlatched the rope holding Applejack’s head back, and bringing her mouth down so that they could kiss. As she ran her tongue over Applejack’s lips, she reached back with her magic to spread her flower. Her telekinesis flowed in like water, wrapping around her little nub and filling her to the exact depth and breadth that she had found brought maximum pleasure. Little tendrils pressed up against carefully selected spots. Then, Rarity thrust her tongue into the other mare’s open mouth, penetrating her from two ends.

Applejack’s body responded keenly to the stimulation. Rarity could feel her breath getting heavier, her body tensing, straining against the ropes. She quickened the pace of her thrusting, driving into Applejack, thrusting against her cervix, spreading her magic slowly and bringing her mare just to the edge where pain and pleasure met. The tension in the other mare’s body build until, with a scream into Rarity’s mouth and a splash of wetness around her magic, she came. Her pussy muscles clamped down on Rarity’s spell, and her body shook violently.

Rarity giggled. “Was that a good one?”

“Y-yes, mistress,” stammered Applejack, drool dripping from her chin.

“Good girl,” said Rarity, stroking her mane. She cranked Applejack slowly to the floor, and gently undid her ropes, freeing her one leg at a time. When she was free, she stood, legs shaking like a newborn foal. Pink lines scored her coat where the ropes had been. Rarity caressed her back with her magic as she walked to the back to remove the butt plug. Removing required even more gentleness than inserting it, but Rarity was rewarded with watching the hole slowly wink closed once it was empty. Was it crude that she enjoyed that? She supposed it didn’t matter if she didn’t tell anypony.

“Come,” she said, her voice soft. “Up to my room.” As she left, she cracked the windows a bit. The workroom was redolent with the distinctive aroma of lovemaking; it would need to air out before the start of business the next day.

She helped Applejack up the stairs — her legs were stiff from being tied for so long, and of course the largest muscles of her back legs were quite sore. Up on her bed, she applied several lotions to the more roughly used portions of Applejack’s anatomy, and checked for broken skin — it would not do to mar that perfect body with scars, would it? At least, any more than she had come to Rarity with. In any event, no, Applejack was not wounded. Rarity’s heart glowed with pride. She was a consummate mistress!

“What about you?” said Applejack, her eyes sleepy.

“What about me, dearest?” said Rarity, honestly confused.

“You didn’t come,” said Applejack.

“Oh, darling, don’t be ridiculous! The pleasure I derive from domination make orgasm seem positively trite by composition!”

“That’s horse apples. Get your tush up here.”

Rarity squeaked as Applejack grabbed her and positioned her over her face. Even exhausted and hard-used, Rarity’s mare was shockingly strong. “Such insubordination! I cannot allow it! I… Oh.”

Applejack nuzzled her snout in between Rarity’s thighs, and lapped gently at the other mare’s pussy. Rarity bit her lower lip as that thick, coarse tongue probed her, slipping inside, lapping up her juices. “I will… oh dear… I will most certainly punish this behavior severely. Tomorrow. For now, carry on.”

Applejack chuckled, her voice muffled by Rarity’s thighs, and wrapped her hooves around her so that she could stroke and squeeze Rarity’s bottom with the frogs of her hooves. Rarity arched her back as Applejack gradually moved up Rarity’s pussy until her tongue found the nub at the top. She circled it, firm and businesslike, sending sparkling ripples of pleasure through Rarity’s body. Rarity stroked Applejack’s face with one hoof, and bit at the edge of her other, trying to muffle the unladylike cries that wanted to escape her mouth.

The effort proved fruitless. “Applejack! Oh! Oh, yes! Harder! Lick me harder! I love it! I absolutely love it!”

Applejack groaned into Rarity’s pussy, and yanked her down by her ass, mashing her pussy against the end of her muzzle. Her tongue was relentless, tireless, and before long Rarity felt a new sensation — a wildness, a burning, glowing from her loins. Her head tilted back, her body tensed,, andwith a cry that the neighbors might have heard, she came. Her thighs clamped down on Applejack’s head, and a flood of wetness splashed across the other mare’s face. Rarity put a hoof to her forehead, and collapsed in a heap beside her mare.

“You drooled on me,” said Applejack, grinning.

“I did not!” gasped Rarity.

“You totally did. Just look at me!”

“Really,” said Rarity, sniffing at the mare goo coating Applejack’s muzzle. “I think this came from another part of my body.”

“You want me to go wash my face?”

Rarity blushed. “No. I want to help you clean it up. I’ll lick it off, and feed it to you. If you don’t mind?”

Applejack grinned. “I gotta do what you tell me to, right?”

“Just… don’t tell anypony I indulge in this sort of play. Please?” Rarity’s eyes danced with anxiety. Her image as a clean and proper pony was at stake, but she couldn’t hold back from what she desired. She ran her tongue through Applejacks short face fur, gathering up her sweet, pungent juices, and kissed them gently but firmly into Applejack’s mouth. Applejack closed her mouth and swallowed, then opened her mouth to show Rarity that it was empty.

Rarity clapped with joy. “Perfect! But you really won’t tell anypony I crave messy play?”

“Sugar cube, I ain’t even got around to telling Granny Smith about the whole ‘lesbian now’ thing. She’s got a powerful hankerin’ for great grand foals.”

Rarity smirked. “That can be arranged. You would look most lovely with a foal in your belly, I think.”

“Shucks,” said Applejack. “How about you kiss me some more, Mistress.”

“Applejack, you cannot give me orders! Honestly, when will I finally spank all the insubordination out of you?”

“Reckon it’s gonna take a few more tries, at least,” said Applejack, smiling smugly

Author's Note

Remeber! If you liked the story, please fav and upvote! It makes a big difference! To me, anyway.