Intensive Training

Sometimes, you don't deserve second chances.

Spitfire watched intently as Applejack slowly walked back to the centre of the barn, holding her checked shirt together with one hand. The loosely fitting cloth was the only thing giving her even a semblance of modesty, and precious little at that. There was a slight hesitation to her movements, a nervousness, but that was only to be expected. It was okay.

By all rights, Spitfire knew, she didn't deserve for it to be okay.

Once, early in her career with the Wonderbolts, she'd screwed up a triple corkscrew during a big display. Young arrogance; she'd thought she didn't need to practice moves like that anymore. That nearly got her kicked off the squad, and she certainly didn't get to undo her mistake and start the display all over again. The audience left, having seen the mess she'd made of things, and that was that. Sometimes you only got one shot at something.

She'd been thinking of herself, before. How excited she was to see this powerfully-built mare submit to her control. But not now. This time, it was all about Applejack, as it should have been from the start. This time, she was going to do it right.

There was a slight tremor of uncertainty in Applejack's hands, Spitfire noted; she wasn't sure what to do with them. Couldn't have that.

"Hands by your sides," she commanded crisply.

Applejack sucked in a deep breath. "Yes, Ma'am," she answered in a low tone, and let her hands drop to her sides. Her shirt fell open, revealing a broad strip of her deep cleavage, and exposing her blonde-furred pussy to full view. Spitfire ached to run her hands over that body.

Patience.

"Close your eyes."

"...yes, Ma'am."

Everything went dark for Applejack. Her ears pricked up, trying to keep track of where Spitfire was, and her breathing quickened. She could feel the roughness of the aged, stained wood under her bare feet, her toes flexing against the joins between the boards. Wasn't Spitfire going to tell her to take her shirt off again? What had she signed up for here, anyway? Was this even a good idea?

The floorboards creaked softly under Spitfire's tread.

The other pony was somewhere behind her, now. A prickle of anticipation ran over Applejack's skin, goosebumps rising. She was going to be touched. That was what she'd offered the other mare. It had been so long since she'd felt the heat of another pony's skin against hers. Not as a friend, or one of the family, but with urgency, with desire.

A whisper of air tingled over her skin, the ghost of a touch that had so nearly brushed her. Her breath caught, and she instinctively tried to push back against the other mare's hand.

There was nothing there. Spitfire's voice purred into her ear, low and intimate. "Don't move. Try that again, and you will be punished."

"Y-yes, Ma'am! Sorry, Ma'am!" she gasped, suddenly struggling for air as she realised how tensed up her body was, how close her breathing had come to stopping entirely.

"Good girl."

Applejack bit down on her lip to stifle a whimper. How in the world was it possible that those words suddenly made her feel so good? She'd said them herself enough times, to Winona, and even to bits of farm equipment. It should have felt condescending.

It didn't.

A fingernail ran down her cutie mark.

"Ahh!" Applejack yelped, shivering. It was barely a touch, barely a kiss of her flesh, but it felt so intense!

"Did that hurt?" Spitfire breathed into her other ear.

"No, Ma'am!" she blurted, shaking her head quickly, then rigidly locking back into position.

There was a long, agonising moment of nothing, as Applejack fought to suppress another shiver. Then she sucked in another sharp breath as Spitfire's short nails raked down her other cutie mark, leaving pale trails down her outer thigh. She couldn't control the whimper that escaped her lips.

"Are you going to try hard to please me?" Spitfire huskily demanded.

"Yes, Ma'am!" Applejack answered at once, the words coming almost faster than she could consciously react.

"Are you going to be a good girl? My good girl?"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

Applejack felt Spitfire's fingers winding into her hair, but still wasn't prepared for the moment the shorter mare yanked hard on her thick braid, pulling her head back sharply and nearly dislodging her hat. The flier's words cracked like a whip. "Do you want to be touched?"

"Yes, yes, Ma'am, please, Ma'am!" she heard herself gasp, shocked to feel tears prickling at the corners of her closed eyes. What was this? She'd never felt anything like this, this need, this helplessness!

The other mare's fingers slid slowly up Applejack's inner thigh, caressing and teasing with feather-light touches that were gone as quickly as they came. "Obey me," she whispered.

"Ah'll obey! Ah'll obey you!" Applejack vowed frantically, her head still tilted back sharply, a wracking shudder running through her whole body. Her hands jerked into fists at her sides, then relaxed to hang loose again. "Please!"

Spitfire released Applejack's braid, letting her slowly straighten her head. Applejack swallowed roughly, her breathing loud in her own ears. "Please," she whispered again, not sure what she was even asking for.

Small, slender fingers ran up the open front of her shirt, tracing the edge where the rough fabric lay against Applejack's hot, sensitised skin. "Are you begging to be stripped?" Spitfire asked evenly.

"Yes!" cried Applejack, the sensation of her shirt dragging against her nipples with every breath suddenly more than she could bear. She wanted, needed, to be exposed! "Please!"

"Not one movement," Spitfire demanded softly.

Applejack nodded very slightly, her dense muscles locking solid as she tensed herself into a rigid statue. I can't breathe, I can't breathe- The thought ran around and around her head as so, so slowly, the feather-light touch of Spitfire's fingers peeled back the sides of her shirt. A thrill of cold air touched her nipples as they were unveiled, stiffer than they'd ever been, and the shirt slid, inch by inch, down her arms.

Then, all at once, the fabric came loose, and crumpled softly to the floor.

"Relax."

Applejack sucked in a shuddering breath, her nostrils flaring, her mighty shoulders quivering. She was naked, she was naked for Spitfire, she was naked-

"You obeyed."

I obeyed, I obeyed-

"Good girl."

Applejack's nails dug into her calloused palms as she whimpered again, nodding jerkily.

"You seem to be very excited for me." Taking Applejack's aching nipples between her slim fingers, Spitfire pinched firmly.

"Haaah!" gasped Applejack, her eyes jerking open. She caught a flash of Spitfire, stripped topless, her dark blue flightsuit pulled down to expose her small breasts and wide, jutting nipples, then reflexively slammed her eyes shut again. "I'm very sorry, Ma'am!" she panted.

"Tch, tch."

The flat of the other mare's palm cracked against the side of Applejack's breast, triggering an explosion of sensation that took her breath away. Again, her eyes flickered open in shock, before she could force them closed.

"Seems like you need a little help to obey your instructions," Spitfire remarked in clear, firm tones. "I'm going to blindfold you now. Understood?"

Applejack nodded convulsively, pushing down an irrational flare of anxiety. "Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am."

A warm hand slid down her bare flank, tracing over the swell of her hip. "Good girl," Spitfire murmured approvingly.

Applejack heard herself whine wordlessly. How could the slim mare's words be having such an effect on her? She felt shaky, out of control, like some internal limiter had broken and only Spitfire's commands were holding her together.

Her ears flickered as she heard the muted clank of Spitfire's bag being moved, followed by the drawn-out, purposeful growl of the zip being drawn back. Something soft pressed against her face, over and around her eyes.

She felt a strap tighten around her head. Her breathing caught, as though an unseen twin were tightening around her ribcage.

"There," Spitfire told her, with finality.

Applejack opened one eye a fraction. Blackness. Soft, smooth padding moulded to her face, cutting out every last chink of light. Both eyes opened wide, staring into the darkness, then slowly closed again in surrender. "I can't see," she murmured, barely conscious she'd spoken.

"You don't need to see. You only need to obey."

Applejack's shoulders loosened as a little tension leaked away, and she nodded, a strange, tranquil calm stealing over her. "Yes, Ma'am. Ah only need to obey."

"That's my cute pony," Spitfire murmured.

Cute. Applejack wasn't used to thinking of herself as cute, but somehow, at that moment, no part of her could protest. She sensed the other mare moving around to her front again, getting closer. So close that she could feel the warmth radiating from Spitfire's skin.

But she still wasn't ready for the small hand that slid around the back of her neck, and pulled her head forward and down. She wasn't ready for the shock of Spitfire's lips meeting hers.

The calmness within her shattered, unleashing a roiling flood of need. "Mmnnn!" she groaned into the smaller mare's mouth as she kissed back desperately, her fingers digging into her own thighs as she struggled to keep her hands by her sides. All of a sudden, she was conscious of how wet she was, a slick heat simmering between her thighs. Her lips crushed against Spitfire's, her tongue prying and flickering, desperately savouring the taste of the other mare's mouth as though she'd never get to do so again.

Spitfire pulled back. Applejack reeled, finding herself suddenly off-balance from learning so far forward to prolong the kiss, her eyes flying open and only finding darkness. She stumbled, then recovered, pulling herself upright. One hand instinctively reached up to touch her eyes, finding only smooth, studded leather, before she jerked back into position, arms straight by her sides.

"Not bad," Spitfire allowed, a purring undercurrent of arousal to her hard, commanding voice. "You're a good kisser."

"Thank you, Ma'am!" Applejack replied at once, her breathing fast and shaky.

"Stay." The command held the brusque casualness of one ordering a trained animal. Applejack's hips jerked, her tail hiking higher.

She didn't know what was happening; didn't know what Spitfire was doing, didn't know what was happening to her. Then she felt a light touch on her full lips, parting them. Lowering her head slightly, breathing through her nose, she passively felt Spitfire's fingers slide into her mouth.

"Suck."

Wordlessly, she obeyed. Her tongue encircled the other mare's fingers, lapping at each devotedly, and small groans escaped her as she began to bob her head back and forth, as though pleasuring a stallion's shaft.

She had done that, in the past. She didn't mind it; it was fun to give them pleasure, even tease them a bit. But it had never felt degrading the way that she felt right now. She felt used, and it felt... good. Unbearably good. What was happening? What was wrong with her?

Spitfire's fingers slipped from between her lips. Before she could fully react, those damp fingers circled her aching nipples, stroking and teasing, leaving trails of cool wetness on her skin that lingered like an echo. The other mare's touches grew rougher and rougher, pinching and twisting and flicking, and all Applejack could do was tremble in her private darkness, head tilted back, hands clenched into fists as she tried desperately not to move. Whimpering groans escaped her clenched teeth, rising and falling with each new touch.

And then, without warning, Spitfire's touch was gone.

"No!" she gasped, then flinched as she heard her own demand echo back to her.

"Do you decide what happens to your body?" Spitfire demanded rhetorically.

"No, Ma'am! You do, Ma'am!" Applejack panted, shaking her head.

"Correct. Remember: don't move." Spitfire's fingers curled around Applejack's calloused hand, and drew it upwards. Before the farm pony knew what was happening, Spitfire had pressed it to her small breasts, rubbing the other mare's palm and fingers over her smooth, soft skin. "I'm using you, Applejack," she breathed. "Your body is a tool for me to enjoy. Understand?"

She was touching Spitfire! All she wanted to do was reach out and take hold of the other mare, to drag her to the floor and fuck until the barn shook with it, but the gossamer leash of Spitfire's words held her utterly captive. Struggling not to thrust her hips, trying to keep her focus anywhere but on the desperate need burning between her parted thighs, Applejack bit her lower lip. Nodding jerkily, she managed, "Yes, Ma'am, Ah understand!"

"That's very good," Spitfire praised her, her voice calm and confident, completely in control, even as the pegasus stroked her tits against Applejack's captive hand. The farm pony could feel the other mare's heart hammering in her chest, like a bird's. "You understand that you are here to obey."

The word struck a shiver through Applejack, like a flick to her clit that she was wholly unready for.

"...however," Spitfire went on, "you haven't finished my earlier instruction. You never finished stripping. I am going to remove your hat, now."

Applejack nodded, exhaling a long, controlled breath. "...anything you want," she whispered.

She felt the weight disappear as her Stetson was lifted from her head, and shivered. It was ridiculous, she knew it was ridiculous, but somehow losing that last little piece of her regular self, the her that she understood, left her feeling shaken and vulnerable. Bared completely. Her skin felt profoundly sensitive, as though another layer of her had been exposed. The air was cool on her naked body, teasing and tingling over the damp slickness between her legs.

"I have something for you to wear instead," Spitfire murmured intimately in her ear, close enough for her to feel the other mare's breath. "How do you feel about wearing a collar, Applejack?"

"Ah... Ah don't know," Applejack breathed, shaking her head slightly. "You, uh..." The words faded out as she struggled to think, her head fogged with sensation.

Spitfire laid a calming hand on her shoulder. "I'll wrap it around your neck, without buckling. Then we'll see."

"...yes, Ma'am."

Holding her head high to expose her neck, Applejack listened to the rustling and clinking of metal as Spitfire rooted around in her bag. A collar. Like the one Winona wore. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest; she didn't know what to think, or what to feel.

A smooth, cool pressure wrapped around her throat.

Her breathing deepened, growing faster until she was almost panting.

"Applejack? Are you okay?" Spitfire's voice. Slightly concerned. The pressure slackened slightly.

Fighting words through the clouds in her head was hard, but Applejack managed, "Buckle it. Please."

The collar tightened a little, then settled as Spitfire released it. Applejack swayed on her feet, shaking, one hand reaching up to find thick leather and blunt, wide spikes encircling her throat. Hoarsely, near-stammering, she begged, "T-tell me what this means."

"What does it mean to you, Applejack? What are you feeling?" demanded Spitfire, her voice powerful and authoritative.

"Ah'm... an animal," Applejack breathed, stroking the spikes, feeling the edge of the collar. Feeling her own pulse fluttering in her throat under her fingers. "Beautiful animal." She'd never have used the word beautiful about herself under any other circumstances, but here, it just slipped out. "Trained. Trained to do what she's told. Ah want to please you! T'be a good girl! Command me! Ah'll - Ah'll do anything!"

Spitfire's eyes closed, a full-body shudder wracking her. Her wings were flared outwards, her mouth wide open as she gulped air and urgently clawed for self-control. Before her, the big mare stood shivering with lust, matching blindfold and collar stealing her identity, turning her into a depraved perversion of herself. When Spitfire had bought the extra-long play collar, she'd told herself that she was wasting her time, that nothing could come of Rainbow's suggestion that Applejack might be into the deliciously kinky power play they enjoyed.

Now there she was, Celestia, yes, a beautiful fuckable animal, literally begging to be used and controlled. Licking her lips, Spitfire began, "Applejack, you will-" before the last remnants of her restraint snapped. "Get on your hands and knees! Now!"

Applejack hit the floor of the barn hard enough to send up a brief cloud of old sawdust, the floorboards shaking with the impact. "Ah obey!" she gasped, her blonde tail hiked as high as it could go, her wide hips swaying and jerking with urgent little movements that she obviously couldn't quell.

Spitfire's nails tore into her flight suit as she yanked it downwards from her waist, ripping holes in the stretchy, form-fitting fabric. She didn't care. All that mattered was commanding the heavily-muscled mare kneeling before her, "Lick my cunt!"

"Oh Celestia, thank you, yes Ma'am, thank you-" Applejack whimpered, crawling forward blindly as she sought out Spitfire's body. The two collided, and, instantly, the blindfolded mare's mouth found her Mistress's pussy.

Spitfire jerked at the first brush of the other mare's hot tongue, grabbing at the back of Applejack's head to force her more urgently against her dripping sex. "Lick me," she commanded huskily, grinding herself against the submissive pony's mouth, hot sparks flashing through her body. Applejack's tongue was inexpert and clumsy, but deliciously desperate. Every whimper and gasp she forced from Spitfire's lips seemed to goad her on.

Her legs growing shaky, Spitfire dug her nails into the kneeling mare's shoulders. "Higher... yes, yes," she groaned, her wings quivering. The thrill of dominating the other pony was all-consuming, a glorious, savagely sadistic lust. Forcefully grinding her pussy against Applejack's face, she gasped and moaned her need, utterly forgetting any shred of restraint or fear of being overheard. "Yes! Suck my clit! Play with your tits!"

Applejack's gasped acknowledgement was all-but lost against Spitfire's body, but as the farm pony seized one of her swaying breasts and began roughly kneading it, her moans grew more and more urgent. Spitfire clung to her for support, head tilted back, tail twitching, barely able to breathe as her climax swelled within her. "Celestia's tits, yes! I own you!" she gasped, at the very edge of release. "Eat me! Eat my cunt, you bitch!"

Orgasm drove every last thought from her mind, her legs finally buckling. For a few long moments, she was barely conscious of where she was anymore. Only that her body was as sensitive as it had ever been, thrumming with aftershocks of pleasure that forced small gasps from her parted lips - and that she was being held and supported by Applejack's powerful arms, the other mare's tits crushed against her chest.

Wide and dazed, Spitfire's eyes slid open. Applejack's blindfolded face was close enough to touch, to kiss.

She did.

"...you can put me down, now," Spitfire finally managed, breaking the hungry, open-mouthed kiss.

"Yes, Ma'am. Ah'm sorry f'r touching you without permission," Applejack breathed huskily, sinking onto her haunches. Her voice shivered with suppressed need, her hips quivering as she visibly forced herself not to grind her thighs together. She radiated helpless lust, the air saturated with the scent of her arousal.

Spitfire drank in every detail of the vision before her, lost in the sight. The earth pony was beautiful. Perfect. Unspeakably desirable, perfectly poised on the cusp of losing her mind with arousal yet still wrapped in the chains of obedience that kept her kneeling, heavy breasts heaving with her shuddering breaths.

"There's something you want," Spitfire told Applejack. "Something you need. Isn't there?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" The words were convulsive, gasped.

"Beg."

"Please!" The word was wrenched from the very depths of her mighty chest. "Please use me more! Ah want to please you! Ah'll obey, Ah'll be your bitch, Ah swear! Just command me, Ah'm begging you!"

Spitfire found herself breathless. She might never have seen a pony quite as desperate to be touched as Applejack so obviously was, and yet that was what she pleaded for?

"Such devotion," she breathed intimately, "deserves reward. Turn around. Ass high in the air. Shoulders on the ground, arms back towards me, wrists by your ankles. I'm going to tie you up, like the animal that you are. And then, I'm going to fuck your brains out."

"Yes, yes, yes, yes Ma'am," Applejack almost sobbed, nodding desperately. She needed this so much! All the pieces that made up the self she knew had been stripped from her, and what was left was a burning, unquenchable need unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. Beneath her blindfold, she felt her eyes prickle with inexplicable tears as she turned around and thrust her ass as high into the air as she could manage, then lowered her upper body to the ground. Her tender breasts were crushed beneath her, and she couldn't help herself from rocking back and forth to grind her nipples against the smooth, ancient wood.

All sense of place had deserted her. She could have been anywhere, alone in her room or lying naked and exposed before an arena of thousands. Spitfire's voice was the only fixed point in her world of darkness.

"Do you want to be fucked, slave? Let's hear it!"

"More than anything, Ma'am! Ah'm so hot, Ah can't stand it!" Applejack gasped, the side of her face pressed against the floorboards. "Ah need you! Take me! Please, take me!"

Rope coiled around her wrist. Nothing like the rough, fibrous stuff that she used day by day to keep the farm going; this was soft and smooth, and it whispered over her skin as loop after loop drew tight. A firm tug, and suddenly her left arm was anchored to her knee, pulling her legs further apart. "Is that all you have to say?" Spitfire demanded.

"Fuck me! Fuck mah brains out, Ah'm begging you! Mah pussy-"

"Your cunt."

Applejack whined deep in her throat as the rope pulled tight around her other wrist, binding her where she knelt, utterly exposed. "Fuck mah cunt, Ma'am! Fuck me, fill me up, do anything you want to me, Ah'm your bitch, your animal! Ah'm so fucking helpless, Ah can't resist you! Use me! Fuck me! Break me!"

She couldn't believe the words that were spilling from her lips; utterly obscene, beyond anything she could have imagined herself saying. Every word fuelled the heat within her, the unbearable, unquenchable lust that filled her to the exclusion of all else. She was rocking against the floor, unable to stop, desperate for even the slightest hint of stimulation.

Spitfire's tongue grazed her overheated pussy.

"Nnnnh!" Applejack groaned wordlessly, her breath leaving her in a heavy gasp. Her eyes rolled up beneath her blindfold, half-open, gazing unseeing into the darkness. "...use me, use me please, Ma'am, Ah'm begging you..." she whimpered, barely able to think. She wasn't even sure what Spitfire was doing; fireworks were exploding up her spine, and her body was barely under her control anymore. She wanted to cum so badly, but somehow she wasn't quite at the edge, locked in a sensual purgatory of near-unbearable pleasure.

The touches of the other mare's fingers and mouth stopped. She barely had the time to groan a dazed, pleading sound of protest before a smooth, cool hardness slid up and down against her soaked, dripping sex.

"Please!" The word exploded from her, a whipcrack of urgency beyond all restraint. Then Spitfire's strap-on thrust into her, and even that last remnant of her mind deserted her. The other mare's thighs slapped against her ass, the floorboards shook beneath her as Spitfire took her hard; her body shook with the forcefulness of the shaft thrusting in and out of her, her arms tugging helplessly against the bonds that trapped them, her hot wetness running in trickles down her muscled thighs. It was like being trapped in the moment of a lightning flash, overwhelming white light drowning out everything else. Broken fragments of syllables leaked from her lips.

"You're mine," Spitfire said forcefully, her words underscored with each thrust of her hips. "I'm fucking my control into you. I'm breaking you! You belong to me. You obey me!"

"...obey..." Applejack managed, every thrust shattering her mind anew. "Obey, obey, obey-" The world spun around her and it didn't matter, nothing mattered, just being fucked, owned, used... She thrust back against Spitfire's hips, harder and harder, taking a fierce, shuddering joy in just losing herself.

Through the roaring in her ears, she heard Spitfire say something else, but the words were lost to her as she peaked with a suddenness that took her completely unaware. She cried out in agonising ecstasy, a howl of pleasure that crashed against the walls as coloured lights exploded in the darkness behind her eyes.

Finally, her muscles untensed, and Applejack slumped forward a little. She felt completely drained, limp in her bonds and as weak as a kitten. Licking her lips, she found that she'd drooled on the floor, but couldn't free her hand to wipe it away. "...oh, mah stars..." she eventually whispered, her voice cracked and reverential.

A warm hand ran over the smooth curves of her ass, stroking and caressing. Spitfire's. The other mare's voice came slowly and deliberately, with firm emphasis. "Good girl."

Applejack whimpered, nodding shakily, her cheek still pressed to the floor. "Th-thank you, Ma'am..."

"Feeling good?"

The enormity of the question was so overpowering, Applejack heard herself give a shaky little giggle of disbelief. "...yes, Ma'am," she breathed.

"Good. That's what I want to hear." The flier left a trail of warm kisses across the curve of Applejack's ass, her hands following in their wake, stroking and kneading.

Applejack felt as wrung out as a used washcloth, barely capable of thinking at all, but some primal part of her prompted her to ask in a low tone, "Did Ah do right, Ma'am?"

"You did well. Very well. In time, I'll train you not to cum until I give you permission. I'll tease you for hours, until you run out of ways to beg, until you're completely losing your mind." Spitfire's fingers ran over Applejack's sensitised, tender pussy, making her jerk in her bonds. "Then you'll cum. But don't worry about any of that now. I'm very pleased with you."

Applejack could barely even comprehend the idea of the future at that moment, but she heard the words that mattered. She'd done well. Behind her blindfold, her eyes closed again. "Thank you," she murmured.

There was a quiet lull for a moment, with no sound but the softness of their breathing. Then she heard Spitfire say quietly, mostly to herself, "Skies above, that ass. That's just too good a position to waste." Louder, the dominant mare added, "I'm going to spank you, Applejack. I want to see what that big, strong body can take. But first... what do you deserve to be spanked for?"

A flash of guilt shot through the fuzzy darkness clouding Applejack's thoughts. "Ah tricked you-" she began.

Spitfire cut her off. "Not that. We've talked that out, and I don't want you to feel bad about it anymore." A little of the iron command ebbed from her voice, and she added in a teasing tone, "But there must be something small. Sleeping in when you should be up and working. Leaving a job unfinished."

"No, Ma'am," Applejack answered firmly, stubborn pride swelling within her. "Ah work hard every day, and Ah git done what needs doing. You don't see me slacking off, not now, not ever."

Spitfire kissed the small of Applejack's back, just above the root of her tail. "You really are something special. If you were a pegasus, I'd begin training you for the Wonderbolts in a heartbeat. But what to punish you for, when you're so well behaved?" She paused, then Applejack heard the evil smile on her lips as she went on, "Oh, I know. You deserve a spanking for pretending, all this time, to be a simple, straight-forward farm mare when really you're a depraved bitch that needs to be saddled, collared, ridden and used like the horny animal you are."

A tremor thrummed through Applejack, her cheeks growing hot. The images were immediate and irresistible; being led around on a leash by Spitfire, being saddled and ridden like a beast of burden, being fucked on all fours, over and over, her tits jiggling beneath her as the other mare ploughed her cunt. A horny animal. Her lips trembled. "...yes, Ma'am," she breathed hoarsely. "Ah deserve t'be punished for that."

"That's my girl," purred Spitfire. "Let's see how you take to it."

Applejack tensed in her bonds. She hadn't been spanked since she was a filly, and she had no idea what to expect. It didn't matter. Spitfire wanted this. She was a good girl. Anything Spitfire wanted, anything-

There was a crack of skin on skin, a sharp stinging sensation.

"No yelp, hm?" asked Spitfire rhetorically.

"No, Ma'am!" Applejack answered stubbornly.

The dominant mare struck again. Blow after blow rained down, spreading a throbbing heat across Applejack's ass, and she found herself taking deep breaths, exhaling through each strike. She felt... hot. And small. And helpless, so, so helpless...

Spitfire's nails raked across her ass.

"Haah!" she gasped, a full-body shudder wracking her. It felt as though the scratches were lined with fire! In response, Spitfire's hands stroked over her skin, kneading and caressing, and little by little, the burning faded. A low, defeated moan escaped Applejack's lips as her body relaxed, and she gave in to the sensation.

Then Spitfire scratched her again. Each touch of the other mare's fingernails on her burning, tingling skin wrenched another gasp from her, followed by caresses and kisses to soothe the pain away, only for it all to begin again. Slumped against the floor, Applejack lost track of how many times she'd been through the cycle, whimpering and moaning, fresh blows reawakening the tingling sensitivity of her body every time it began to fade. Somewhere in it all, a dildo was pushed into her vacant sex, adding another note to the pulsing ache of her body.

Spitfire's voice cut through the haze. "Very, very good. Just five spanks now, and your punishment is finished. With a paddle. Count them aloud."

"Y-yes, Ma'am," Applejack managed, struggling to make the words come out right. Her body was completely limp and on fire at the same time; she didn't know how to understand what she was feeling, and didn't feel like she needed to try.

A distinct whistle of air was her final warning. Pain exploded across her sensitive skin as something wide and flat impacted her ass, wrenching a small cry from her lips. "O-one!" she gasped.

"Your ass belongs to me."

Another whistling crack, another explosion of sensation. "Two!" Applejack yelped, shuddering. "Mah ass is yours!"

"Your cunt is mine."

Crack.

"Three! Mah cunt is yours!"

"Your tits are mine."

Crack.

"F-four! Mah tits are all yours!"

"You belong to me."

Applejack tensed her whole body rigidly. Nothing. Then, just as she began to relax in confusion, the short, sharp whistle of the paddle again. The blow took her breath away, pushing her an inch across the floor, and for a second all she could do was struggle to inhale. Finally, she whimpered, "Five! Ah'm yours, Ah belong to you!"

"Good girl."

Soft hands went to work, massaging and soothing the pain of the blows away, while Applejack lay still, breathing in short, shallow pants. She was barely conscious of the tugging at her wrists until Spitfire told her, "You're untied. Roll onto your back, and lie flat."

The very idea of movement seemed foreign to Applejack, taking a few seconds to sink in. Then she toppled to the side with a thud, and slowly uncurled. A painful tingling shivered through her arms, then slowly diminished. She licked her lips, feeling the cool hardness of the wooden floor against her aching ass. She was utterly exhausted, as hollowed out as a cored apple.

She sensed Spitfire's body before she felt her touch, the smaller mare lying down by Applejack's side and resting against her. One slim hand began gently stroking and caressing the curves of Applejack's slowly heaving breasts. "How do you feel?"

"...good," Applejack managed. "Exhausted. Amazing..."

"You did so well. I was very impressed," Spitfire told her softly. Applejack felt a throb of joy that for an instant felt close to love; a pulse of fierce happiness and validation. She felt as though she were on a pedestal, being admired by the whole world.

Gently, Spitfire's finger circled one of her nipples, teasing it a little stiffer, before covering it with a kiss. Voice gentle, she went on, "Do you want to stop now?"

"Ah want to please you," Applejack responded at once. She ached with sincerity, with the purity of her intent. "Anything you want from me. Command me."

"...you really are something," Spitfire murmured. "Alright. I've got a toy for us to share, and I want to see your face while I fuck you. I'm taking your blindfold off."

A cold shock of fear flashed through Applejack. Spitfire must have seen it on her face, because the other mare asked gently, "What's wrong?"

Applejack swallowed, reaching up to touch the smooth leather that covered her eyes. Her voice hoarse, she said quietly, "...Ah'm not sure. Ah can't... Ah'm not here while Ah'm like this. Not where Ah am. Ah mean..." She hesitated, stumbling over the words. "You're the... the only thing that's real, right now. What if Ah take this off, and the whole world comes back, and Ah've got to think about the work t'be done, and mah friends, and family, and the barns, and... everything. How c'n Ah be like this with all that on top've me?"

There was a soft shifting of position, then a delicate weight as Spitfire straddled her. Her hands instinctively went to the other mare's narrow hips, feeling the smoothness of the flier's skin under her fingers.

"I'm here," Spitfire said quietly. "You can look at me. Focus on me. What you feel is strong enough to push everything else aside, whether your eyes are closed or not. You belong to me. You belong to me until I let you go. Until I give you permission to be anything else, you are my bitch. My beautiful animal. Do you understand?"

"...Ah understand," Applejack whispered.

"Close your eyes. Keep them closed until I say otherwise. I'm removing your blindfold now."

The pressure of the strap released. Light poured over her face, bright even with her eyes shut. Spitfire leant forward, and gently kissed away the trails of tears she'd cried without even knowing it.

"Open your eyes."

"Yes, Ma'am," breathed Applejack, feeling the fear swirl into a knot in her stomach. Squinting slightly against the brightness, she slowly opened her eyes.

Spitfire's face was right there, above hers, glowing in the golden light. Applejack's heart thumped in her chest, and hints of tears welled up again in the corners of her eyes. Speechless, she gazed up at the other mare, wondering how she'd never seen her before.

"You are mine," Spitfire said firmly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Gazing as if entranced into Spitfire's orange eyes, Applejack nodded slowly. "Ah'm yours," she agreed huskily. "Anything... anything you want..."

Spitfire leant down and kissed her hard. Applejack's back arched against the floorboards as she kissed back urgently, a thrill of need crackling up her spine. She needed more. More of this! It was as though parts of her that had fallen into disuse from deep neglect, parts of her she hadn't even known she had, were unfolding like flowers in the rain.

When the other mare broke away, Applejack lay back panting, dizzy with emotion. Her gaze roamed over Spitfire's face, taking in every tiny detail, drinking the sight of her in as though she'd only ever get this one chance to see her.

"My bag. Fetch the double-ended dildo," Spitfire commanded, and shifted her weight off Applejack's hips.

"Yes..." Oh Celestia, yes... "Yes, Ma'am. Ah obey." Pushing herself slowly up onto her hands and knees, Applejack crawled across the floor to where Spitfire's canvas bag lay, feeling the dildo still buried in her shifting back and forth with every movement of her hips. The strap-on harness lay discarded to one side, beside a long leather paddle. Chains and loose rope spilled out of the open zip.

Feeling her tail jerking up and down with her pulses of anticipation, Applejack dug through the bag, unable to quell thoughts of what the tools within could do to her; the cuffs, the chains, the crop... A separate pocket within held the outline of another collar. That would be Rainbow's. The thought was distracting, but she pushed it away for the time being, bringing that image of Spitfire's face back to the fore. Spitfire was the only thing that mattered right then. Obeying was all that mattered.

The twinned dildo was at the bottom of the bag, a long, purple thing, made of some yielding, translucent material she didn't recognise. A chain was partially wrapped around it, and as Applejack tugged it free, she saw the handle at one end and the clip at the other, and recognised she was holding a leash. Heat made her head swim; she ran the chain links through her fingers, breathing heavily.

"You like that? Bring them both."

"Yes, Ma'am," Applejack breathed. Crawling back on her knees, she knelt before Spitfire and offered the dildo and leash in both hands. "As you commanded, Ma'am." Stars above, it felt so right to be on her knees before her owner!

"Good girl," Spitfire praised her, stroking her blonde hair. Applejack shivered with happiness as the two were taken from her hands, arching her head back to expose her collar. There was a tug at her neck, then a soft click. Spitfire straightened, leash in hand.

"You are my bitch," she said, with the calmness of utter self-confidence.

"Yes! Yes, Ma'am, Ah'm your bitch!" Applejack panted, nodding jerkily. Her hand rose to squeeze one of her breasts, capturing her nipple between her fingers and squeezing. "F-feels so good to be your bitch, Ma'am!"

"On your back."

There was a heavy thump as Applejack all-but threw herself to the ground, legs spread, her green eyes wide. Spitfire gazed down at her, her own heart hammering in her chest, overcome all over again at the sheer physical beauty of the massive earth pony.

There was a feeling of near-reverence in the core of her chest, a shuddering joy in the depths of their new-forged connection. The iron determination that she'd sensed before, the determination that had seen the other mare through trials and battles that should have destroyed her, that made her strong in ways that had nothing to do with her impressive body. The way she'd risked so much by opening herself up, and the feelings they'd found there... by all the clouds in the sky, if there was any way to keep Applejack in her life, she'd do it. She and Rainbow burned like stars, utterly different, yet perfectly in sync. Both unspeakably precious.

Spitfire sank to the floor, never taking her eyes off Applejack's face. Holding eye-contact, she spread her legs and slowly, sensually fed one end of the flexible dildo into her aching pussy. The abuse that she'd bestowed on Applejack's body had been driving her crazy! Celestia's tits, she needed this! Biting back a heavy moan, she forced her voice to stay clear and authoritative. "Lift your leg, slave. Expose your cunt."

"Yes, Ma'am!" Applejack moaned as she obeyed, exposing the end of the dildo still buried in her. Her green eyes were wild with need. "Mah cunt is yours, Ma'am! Take me! Use me!"

Easing herself between Applejack's legs, Spitfire brought the end of the toy to the other mare's blonde-furred sex. Forcing a gasp from Applejack's lips as she pulled out the dildo already there, Spitfire slid the first few inches of the thicker purple toy into the earth pony's sex. For a moment she paused, gazing with hungry delight at the sight of the other mare's pussy parted around the shaft of her dildo, then she leant back and pushed her hips forward, burying the toy completely between the two of them. Twinned gasps escaped them; Spitfire's head snapped back, her wings splayed out and trembling beneath her.

Sucking in a breath, she demanded in a voice that barely shook, "Now, fuck me."

The response was instant. Applejack's hips rose up, then slammed forward forcefully. Spitfire cried out as the thick toy pushed further into her, instinctively thrusting back against the shaft. Sensing an instant's hesitation from the other pony, Spitfire yanked on the leash and demanded roughly, "I said fuck me!"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

The floor shook and drummed beneath them as their hips drew apart and slammed together again, a ragged chorus of moans and cries escaping their throats. Spitfire could barely breathe, her skin prickling feverishly and coated in sweat, boiling heat radiating from her in waves. One hand urgently stroked and teased her own clit, the other keeping pressure on the chain leash that led to the enslaved pony's throat.

Applejack's head tossed in the throes of pleasure, her hands crushing and kneading her heavy tits together around the chain of the leash as though pleasuring a phantom shaft, all the while keeping her eyes on Spitfire as though she was the only thing that existed in all the world. Grunts and full-voiced moans spilled from her lips, without shame or hesitation, her entire body conveying a perfectly focused intensity of purpose.

Spitfire cried out as she pinched her clit between her fingers, drunk on the relentless hammering of their hips, thrusting into each other, joined, connected. "Fuck me!" she demanded again, dizzy with abandon. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me Applejack, make me cum!"

Their bodies moved as one. One cried out in orgasm, then the other, and afterwards, she could never be sure which came first. It was all lost in a haze of nigh-unbearable sensation, of heartbreaking pleasure, of complete connection.

And then, once more, there was nothing to hear but heavy breathing, and the sigh of the rising breeze outside. Spitfire's feathers were in disarray, her mane dampened with sweat. Applejack lay sprawled across the floor, one arm flung wide, the other resting on her stomach. Perspiration gleamed on their bodies. The spikes of Applejack's collar caught a glint of golden light.

An eternity after that, Spitfire stirred enough to work the dildo free, the toy smeared with both of their juices, and tossed it onto the bag. Crawling up Applejack's body, she lapped at the wetness coating her inner thighs, forcing a shuddering moan from the other mare. Then she settled into the crook of Applejack's out-flung arm, and nestled into her shoulder. She felt... safe, there, in a way that she wasn't used to feeling.

"...thank you, Ma'am..." Applejack breathed, her cheeks flushed red, her generous lips parted.

"You did so well," Spitfire told her softly, an aching depth of intensity behind the simple words. "I am proud of you."

Applejack's hand lifted to her face, with the ponderousness of a heavy stone, and rubbed at the corners of her eyes. "Thank you, Ma'am," she said again, lower, a husky rumble that Spitfire felt vibrate through her chest.

They lay there for a while, as the narrow beams of sunlight slowly swept across the walls, and gradually took on a deeper, late afternoon tinge. Finally, Spitfire kissed Applejack's shoulder, and pushed herself into a sitting position, taking a deep breath. "All fours. Now."

"Ah obey," murmured Applejack, stirring. Rolling over onto her front, she gathered her legs under her and pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, ass still aching from her earlier punishment. Her pussy ached, her tits throbbed from the mauling she'd given them; she felt as though she'd been through a hard, hard day's work. A little huff of amusement escaped her. Not the kind of training she'd been picturing.

Spitfire sat on her back, sideways on, as casually as if she was a mere stool. Applejack's breathing caught as a fresh twinge of delight spasmed through her exhausted body, and she nuzzled her cheek against the shining links leading from her collar to the leash in Spitfire's hand.

The pegasus flapped her wings a few times, resettling her feathers. When she spoke, it was in a voice that carried affectionate warmth. "Okay, Applejack. Let's tidy up. We need to talk about what happens next, and it shouldn't be while I'm using you like a chair, okay?"

"...Ah wouldn't mind that, actually," Applejack murmured, looking off to one side. Bracing herself, she took a deep breath and held completely still as Spitfire reached down and unclipped the leash, even as part of her whined in protest.

"On your feet, and get dressed," Spitfire instructed, standing up.

"Yes, Ma'am," Applejack answered, a little more slowly. For a while, it had all been so gloriously simple. Now uncertainty was creeping back in. Hesitating as she picked up her crumpled pants, she turned with them balled in her broad hand. "Ma'am?"

Spitfire looked up from gathering the discarded sex toys, pushing the chains and ropes back into the bag with her foot. "Yes?"

"Are you-" she began, then hesitated. Trying again, she stammered, "Ma'am, are we - is this just a one-time thing, here? Ah know you've... got Rainbow'n all, and you said how she's been trained all this time, and... like she said, Ah can't jest flap up to Cloudsdale and..." Biting down on her lower lip, Applejack forced herself to stop talking. A booming hollowness was opening up in her chest, and it was getting hard to speak.

Dropping the sex toys she held into the bag, Spitfire wiped her hands on her thighs and moved a few steps closer, looking up into Applejack's eyes. Searching her expression, she asked softly, "What is it that you want, Applejack? Tell me."

"Ah don't want you to go, Ma'am!" Applejack blurted, then flushed hotly with embarrassment and turned away. Unable to meet Spitfire's gaze, and feeling foolish, she went on more quietly, "Ah want more. Ah want this. This is... Ah've never felt like this before. Ah want t'be worthy of you. Please."

Spitfire's arms wrapped around her, as the other pony hugged her tightly from behind. "You silly pony. As if you could be unworthy of me. That was fucking amazing. Of course I want more. I just didn't want to pressure you, not when you're still way deep in the zone, and you can barely think about disobeying me."

I obey. The words were so close the tip of her tongue, Applejack nearly said them. Nodding slowly, her insides frozen between fear and uncertain relief, she said instead, "So we... can keep doing this? You'll train me? You'll... have me?"

"Rainbow came first. I won't give up on her, not for anything," Spitfire warned. Her tone softened. "But if you're okay with that... then yes, Applejack, Celestia's mane, yes. I want you. I really, really want you."

Applejack sniffled, with a little giggle of disbelief. "Can't believe mahself, Ah rilly can't. Yes. Yes, yes, yes, Ah'll do it, Ah want this too!" Twisting around in Spitfire's embrace, she crushed the other pony to her chest in a tight hug. "And if Ah have to share you with Rainbow, well, there's nopony else Ah'd rather it be."

"She feels the same way," Spitfire murmured. "The two of you are... there's no way one mare should be this lucky. Guess I'm just that good." She flashed a smile up at Applejack.

Chuckling, shaking her head, so giddy with delight she felt as though perhaps she could fly to Cloudsdale, Applejack let her go. "Can't believe Ah'm this much of a pervert. Ah mean... damn. Didn't expect all that."

"You're going to discover a lot of new things," Spitfire promised with a flirtatious smile, moving over to her discarded flight suit. Stepping into it and wriggling it up her body, she suddenly laughed and turned side-on to Applejack. Several long tears had expanded into oval gaps, exposing most of her side and a little of her ass.

"Looks like I had better fly really fast on the way home," Spitfire remarked with a shake of her head.

"Better you had. Don't want to tempt any other ponies into all this with that ass," Applejack agreed. "Y'all are a public menace."

Finishing tugging the remains of her suit into place, Spitfire turned to Applejack. "I should take your collar, now."

"...can you leave it with me?" Applejack asked, with a trace of hesitancy. Feeling her way around the emotions cluttering her chest, she added slowly, "Ah might not wear it all the time, but... Ah want to have it near. So Ah c'n touch it, and know that all this is real. That Ah want all this. And mebbe when Ah'm home, Ah'll shut the door, buckle it up, and..." She blushed. "Y'know. That."

Spitfire shook her head, grinning. "You are too fucking cute. Are you sure about that?"

Applejack straightened, and grinned back. "If you try to take it, Ah'll break your fingers, Ma'am."

Spitfire laughed, and Applejack laughed with her. Then they were touching, and kissing again, and Applejack's hand found its way to the holes in Spitfire's suit...