There was a pleasantly relaxed smile in the air at Rarity's boutique as Coco Pommel sipped at her Jean Luc Grey Tea.
Tensions had been running a bit high the last week or so. Rarity's new business venture in Palomino Falls had taken on an order for a high-profile client with very demanding tastes, Gina Wayward, the lead vocalist for My Chemical Romanticore. Rarity had been ecstatic to take on the challenging project and had been happy to bring her assistant Coco Pommel in to collaborate. Sassy Saddles had just come by to pick up the very high-bit custom outfit and the ringing of the bell downstairs indicated she'd just left to deliver it to their soon-to-be very happy client.
Coco and Rarity had taken the moment to celebrate with some delightful cakes, inviting over a few of Rarity's friends from Ponyville. That sweet goofball from the cake shop, Pinkie Pie had delivered the treats. Coco liked her. It was impossible not to. The hyper-active pony was like a ray of sunshine made into a mare. It seemed no matter what the occasion, Pinkie had a smile that could bedazzle it up and make it shine even brighter.
A rather pleasant couple, Berry Punch and Minuette brought along some refreshments- also, their cute-as-a-button little daughter, Ruby. The couple had been something of a fixture in Ponyville, always on the fringe of any gossip conversation. Berry had gone through a rough patch after losing her husband in a work accident. For over a year, it seemed that little Ruby was the only thing keeping the poor mare together at all. You wouldn't know it to look at her now. The joy between mother and daughter and her new marefriend was just infectious. Shortly after Minuette had moved in-town the two had begun a relationship that was one part healing, one part friendship and one part learning to love again. Seeing them playing with little Ruby was so heart-warming, just thinking about it got Coco misty all over again.
Rarity's marefriend, Applejack, had come too, bringing with her a basket of delicious sweet apple fritters and a small barrel of apple cider that had WAY more kick than Coco had been expecting.
Her marefriend...
Coco's eyebrows bunched as she tasted the word in her mind. "Marefriend..." It wasn't bad or offensive to consider. It was more like a conundrum, a worry... like working out 5 sides of one of those little puzzle-cubes only to find a single purple square all by it's lonesome. All you can think is "Now how in the hay did THAT happen?"
The party had ended and the mares had all gone on their way. All the visiting mares had left, save for Applejack. Applejack and Rarity had plans for later in the evening- something about seeing a new show in town. As the shop would be closing in only a couple hours it was decided that rather than head on she would just hang around and wait.
Rarity put a record on the turntable, a peaceful little composition of classical strings and drumbeats by Federico Serna. She and Coco then returned to working on a pair of matching dresses for an upcoming wedding in-town, simply delightful little numbers for Yellow Jacket and Bee-keeper. Oh, they were just to die for.
Still... As she counted and re-counted the tourmaline gems between stitches, her thoughts drifted back to that little purple square...
"Her Marefriend..."
Now... Coco had nothing against them as a couple, of course not. She wasn't one of those ponies who had some bizarre notion that two mares or two stallions shouldn't be together. CELESTIA, no. The two seemed very seemed happy together. By all accounts, they seemed to have quite a healthy relationship. They had fun together. They were VERY affectionate. They respected each other for both their similarities and differences. Of course they fought as any couple would but when they did they eventually talked about the problem, apologized and made up like civil adults. As far as a romantic relationship between two ponies went, they were- as Rainbow Dash would put it- "Relationship goals A. F."
No. The part she just couldn't wrap her head around was-
"BREUGCHKT!!"
Applejack...
The belch shattered the peace, causing the record to skip and shaking the windowpane. She heard it. She actually heard the glass buzz. Coco could swear she just felt her ears pop. Her heart had definitely skipped a beat or three. Wide-eyed, she thumped at the side of her head, making sure she hadn't suffered any hearing loss.
Applejack thumped a hoof at her chest and laughed. "Cooo-whee! Naow THAT was a RIPE 'un. 'Scuse me, ladies." The farmer fanned a hoof about in the air, chuckling in pride. "WhSHEW! Feller had sum punch AND left a friend! Y'all kin sure smail tha ghost'a Granny's Best in THAT one, I tell you whut!"
Coco turned from the exercise in home-brewed chemical warfare to look to Rarity. Far from disgust- the demure unicorn was actually giggling behind a hoof. "Oh Applejack, REALLY..." Her luxurious eyelashes batted as she playfully pointed an accusatory hoof to the farmer. "If you're going to be inviting such GHASTLY company along you had BEST be certain they behave themselves AND stay over there with YOU...".
"Aw, c'mon Rares. George Applebatter there wuz just wantin' ta see how pretty ya wuz." The farmer gave a flirty wink. "Ah done up-talkt ya to 'im ya know."
Rarity tittered from her horn-rimmed glasses with a coy, half-lidded smile. "Well, let's just try to keep 'George' on a bit of a leash, shall we? Along with any other company of his whom you may be aware of, hmmn?"
Applejack tipped her hat with a grin. "Yes, ma'am. I'll keep an eye out fer his cohorts. Espeshully if'n anybody tries ta sneak out the back door."
Rarity sighed resolutely and shook her head, muttering to herself. "My word... tch... you..." The seamstress hummed along with the record and returned to her work as the orange Earth mare chuckled and leaned on her forelegs, looking out the window.
Coco looked back and forth between the two. What HAD she just watched? THIS was the stumbling block. THIS was the purple square on her puzzle box.
She looked to Rarity.
The alabaster unicorn pouted in consideration. Her horn glowed with a soft blue light. Several needles clinked together over a piece of cream-colored fabric as she weighed odds on her weapon of choice.
Rarity was... Elegant. Graceful. At times, precociously playful and at times melodramatic to the point of living in her own theater-production. There was no denying it. Rarity was beautiful in every way. She was charming, witty, so very kind and giving. She was the kind of friend who would do anything she knew how to help a pony in need. She had the right combination of ambition, drive and intelligence that was rapidly making her a superstar in every fashion circle, from the backwaters of Dos Caballos to her big-city home in Manehatten. Still, she hadn't let it go to her head either. Despite her meteoric rise to success, she had managed to hold onto her simple, small-town modesty and charm...
On top of all that, she was... no two ways about it...GORGEOUS. Her mane was immaculate- waves of violet that shined and bounced with every step. Her eyes were dazzling sapphires that could hypnotize a pony once locked in their power. Her ivory coat was so healthy she almost seemed to glow at times. And her body... Coco's face gave up a rosy blush as she studied her friend and mentor. The unicorn was no child. She had a mature mare's build. She carried her wider hips and soft middle with an uncanny grace and confidence in her gait. At the same time she was still slender, cutting a figure that when she modeled for clients... it.... She was not ashamed to admit it. She had let her eyes hungrily linger quite a few times when Rarity had been rummaging about in the lower supply shelves. Coco had to fan herself as she reigned in those thoughts.
Then ...there was Applejack.
She looked to the mare at the window.
The orange pony smiled, watching Sassy load up her cart and gave a friendly exaggerated wave goodbye. "Y'all take care out there!" She clucked her tongue against her teeth and chewed at a piece of straw which hung from her lips. "Shewt. Skinny little gal like her's likely ta up'n blow away if'n she ain't careful... I oughta sent a few extra fritters with her..."
Applejack was a pleasant enough mare, to be certain. Definitely one of the best friends anypony could EVER hope for. She was friendly, warm, caring- always one of the first to shake your hoof in greeting and invite you over to share the full experience of her family's hospitality. She had a raucous, healthy energy to her that had a charm all of it's own. Her bawdy sense of humor had made Coco blush in embarassment on many occasions and introduced several new words and concepts to the young mare. She was brave and loyal to a fault, yes. There was no doubting that. If any creature did another creature wrong, you could count on Applejack being the one to set them straight.
She wasn't unpleasant to look at, that was also true. Coco's well-trained eye scanned the mare. She didn't have Rarity's cultured beauty. She didn't have her poise or refinement. Hers was a more... rugged appeal. Her dusty blonde mane framed her face well. Her freckled cheeks gave her an impish charm and her green eyes had a healthy, earthen beauty to them, a sort of sparkle. Her sun-kissed orange coat, though a lovely shade of 'sunset delight' was dusty and seemingly always in need of both a wash and comb-through for... whatever bits of... thing she had been running through that day, leaves, grass... bugs. Coco shuddered. One day, she could swear she had seen something jump off the mare and crawl up the wall.
Still, her tattered brown stetson, frayed, worn vest and red, sun-bleached kerchief did nothing to conceal the lean muscle of her taut form. A long life of daily labour and ample home cooking had given the farmer a stout, powerful physique. Nothing else considered, she definitely had THAT going for her. Coco's eyes lingered on Applejack's hind legs as the young mare gave a hard swallow. Her hoofs were cracked and worn from days of bucking the fruit from the trees in her family orchard. It would take the mares at the spa days to work them into something less than a nightmare. However, the view only got better as her gaze trailed upwards... The long shaggy blonde of her tail swayed back and forth, almost hypnotically. Powerful legs built of thick cords of muscle... firm, rippling flanks, like carved wood wrapped in orange velvet. Her thick, ample plot was...
She was scratching it again.
Ugh.
The orange mare had reached back to dig at her plot, rather incessantly. She almost seemed to be chasing something, the way she was arching her back to better lean into the act. Judging by the pleased look on her face and the light groan she uttered, she was rather enjoying herself. "ourf... yeah... thar ya go.... Thet's tha rabbit's roost..." Coco found herself incapable of looking away. The energy the earth mare seemed to be putting into this. It was like she was watching a battle, a grotesque battle against some manner of near-sapient invisible entit-
Oh sweet Celestia, she was switching to the front...
Coco's already furrowed brow massed into an aghast collection of creases of horror as the farmer-turned-itch-chasing Equestrian Marshal pursued her quarry from "Teen" into "Mature"-rated territory. Applejack lifted a waggling hoof from the floor and extended her tongue from tightly pressed lips as she scratched away in her nethers like some manner of ...farm animal. Coco wanted to look away but found she couldn't. It was like being trapped in her own body, held prisoner by some vile art-house cinematic production of "Things Young Ponies Should NEVER Do In Public". Applejack dug away with her hoof as a pup might, burying a treasured possession, muttering to herself under her breath all the while. "Urf... why you... Auuww.... thar we go...." Apparently, her efforts had finally "struck paydirt" so to speak as the smile returned. "Oouufgh yeah.... Ah gotcha... ah gotcha...." Her tongue lolled about lazily and her green eyes went crossed. Truly, this was a sight for the Equestrian Society of-
Did she just SNIFF her HOOF?!
Coco felt the color drain from her face. Was the room getting colder? It had to be...
Her task completed, the farmer shook out her mane, ruffling the heavy material of her vest. This motion brought a cloud of dust into being in the air around her. The tiny particles swirled around her in the shaft of golden sunlight from the window. In a bizarre way, it was almost pretty. It was like she had managed to conjure up some manner of earth-pony magic of lacking couth- a magical force-field to protect her from proper manners. With a snort and a snoft, Applejack leaned forward and returned her attentions to the window.
Coco was entranced. What fresh horrors against civility would she witness as this show continued...
Applejack's eyes had grown suddenly distant, as if she were in very deep thought. The straw worked from one side of her teeth to the other. What could she be pondering, Coco wondered. Her green eyes shone in the sunlight. They had seemed to lighten in the much brighter light, even if the shade of her hat did still subtly alter the hues of her complexion. They sparkled like jade as she intently scanned the horizon. She knew Applejack was NOT a stupid mare, no. She was simple, yes. Higher education was not a priority in her life but she did have a very shrewd sense of business and a certain...eh... down-home wisdom... a provincial brilliance of sorts.
HSSNNGKNGCK- PTHU!
She spat out the window with the force of small-arms fire. Coco winced as she watched the mare's barrel ripple with the recoil from her lung-cannon's discharge. She winced again as she heard the wet impact find it's mark and some manner of small animal squeaked in defeat. It's tiny voice turned and tumbled, cursing in chitters of outrage as she heard it fumble down from it's perch to flop into the flowerbeds below.
The farm-pony's face lit up like a child discovering the joys of playing in dirt for the first time. "Heh. Gotcha, ya little..." She called over her shoulder, her voice ringing with pride. "HEY, Rares, I done pegged that little feller thet's always filchin' yer posies from the window-sill! Knocked him plum off the side of the sign!"
Coco looked back to her Manehattenite mentor. Rarity continued her stitching, cool as a cucumber. Her perfectly pedicured hoofs tugged at a bit of golden thread as she secured a sparkling citrine in place. "That's nice, dear. Thank you for your efforts. I do hope you didn't hurt the little beastie?"
"Naw. I jest wing'd 'im good. Lil' critter landed in yer begonia bushes."
"Good show."
Coco watched Rarity take this all in as if it were any other day. This was normal. Her marefriend just went on vacation in her plot, burrowing away like a rabbit constructing it's summer home. Then she scratched her... "inner thigh"... ahem... as if it were the latest trend in summer-wear. Following this all up with a circus attraction performance at the shooting range, taking out some small woodland creature with naught but her expectoration.
Was it her? Was Coco imagining all of this? That might make more sense. Maybe Rarity was somehow JUST missing it, every time. She was unaware. Yes. That was it. Rarity was such a cultured mare. A mare of refinement, smooth, dignified elegance. Surely she must be JUST missing all of these horrifying things like the background goofs in a comedy. But... no. She acknowledged it just now. She knew what was going on. She'd even congratulated the farmer for her accuracy and commended her for granting mercy towards her target.
She turned back to the orange mare at the window.
Oh sweet Celestia... Now she's picking her nose.
Coco's jaw dropped and her bottom lip curled inward, quivering in revulsion.
Why not? She only had SO many orifices left unmolested- SO many acts of impropriety before moving up the scale from "mature" to "adult only". Might as well cover every spot on her lottery ticket of un-lady-like behaviors.
Applejack crammed the worn, dusty hoof into her nostril, brow knit, grunting in effort. Granted, a hoof was hardly the best instrument for such a delicate procedure as nasal-cavity-extraction surgery but whatever she was digging for in there seemed to be putting up quite the fight. She worried the hoof about in a circular fashion, applying varying levels of pressure as her target mineral eluded her. This was no simple mining operation, oh, heavens no. The farmer was questing for the proverbial sacred flame, buried deep within the darkest caverns of her skull. One eye sealed tightly shut as the excavations burrowed deeper still. She bit her lip. struggling with the effort of plunging into the nasal mystery. The other scanned about the room, vacant, perceiving nothing, her concentration fully turned inward now. Eventually the gaze rolled upward into her skull, revealing only the white of the orb in it's socket. For all the world she appeared to be possessed- a horrifying monster, losing her soul to the terrors unearthed by her careless intrusion into the depths of R'lyeh...
This had gone into a whole new level of disgusting performance art.
The green eyes rolled about and returned to focus. It looked like she had found the lost deposit of minerals she had sought. Oh goody.
Coco rubbed a hoof at her lips. This mare... Rarity ... She DID kiss her? They did... things... together...? "Adult only" things...?
Applejack snorted and examined the fruit of her efforts on her hoof tip. The farmer scrutinized her plunder with a slight curl of the lip. Coco wondered as to just what she could possibly be thinking. In truth, was she some demented mirror-universe version of Rarity? Was she appraising the mucous-treasure? Was she determining the worth of this "nose gold" by some formulae agreed upon by the equivalent scientific minds of the Apple family? This booger- and Coco realized she wasn't quite close enough to see what was on the hoof but she assumed it was indeed, a booger- was this booger being examined and evaluated in worth by established categories? Was she considering it's "cut, clarity and color"? Did her family have some means of determining worth by the booger's shape? Number of facets? It's consistency, maybe?
Applejack frowned slightly and smacked her lips, rubbing at her face with her other hoof. Whatever worth was to be found in the nasal anomaly was gone. With a snoft of disdain, she flicked the little object away. Her deep green eyes glanced around the room for a moment before returning to her hoof. It would seem that the booger was stuck to her hoof. She flicked again. It remained. Once more, harder, she flicked, this time putting some hoof into it. Still, the booger defied her. Her lips pursed, she began to shake her hoof at the wrist as if trying to dislodge an amorous arachnid from a sleeve. Ah. That did the trick.
Pleased with herself, a small smile crossed her lips. Applejack turned back to the window.
But wait... She paused. Her eyes grew wide. She bit her bottom lip, brows creased with worry. She looked across the room in their direction. She looked to Rarity, nervous. Coco tried her best to appear nonchalant, focusing on the sewing on the table before her. Needle in, needle out. Keep the stitches tight. Tight stitches, smart and keen, that's the ticket.
What had happened? What had Applejack done? Coco followed the excitement out of the corner of her eyes, sparing a glance to Rarity occasionally. The beautiful unicorn hummed happily, a series of pins held loosely in her lips. Her lustrous violet mane continued to sway gently with the tune on the record player. The Element of Generosity was in her zone, square in her field of expertise as she plied her craft. Rarity was perfectly at home, bringing an object of beauty into the world. She seemed totally unaware of what horrors Coco had witnessed.
What had she realized? Was something wrong? Was there just some new act of revulsion that she had left undone? Applejack kept looking her way...
Maybe she'd noticed that Coco had been watching her? That ...had been rather rude, hadn't it? A small pang of guilt began to work it's way down the young mare's spine towards her stomach, bringing the icy chills of shame with it. No doubt, Applejack WAS making a spectacle of herself but she was here, in the comfort of her marefriend's private workshop. Maybe this was just her relaxing, revealing that hidden side of herself she normally would never do. Perhaps Coco had been far too harsh in her appraisal of the farm-pony for her uncouth behavior. She WAS still being very gross. Again, there was no doubt about that but maybe this was something Coco should be ...happy for? Grateful, even? Maybe by Applejack showing her this side of herself- all these inappropriate mannerisms- she was casually letting Coco know through these social improprieties that she was on the "tribal" level of her trusted companions, like an unspoken V.I.P. list? Friends and family only- that sort of affai-
Oh sweet Luna's Blackened Rump! She'd flicked a booger onto the ponequinne that was wearing the dress for the MARE of HONOR!
Shame and guilt both promptly packed their bags, grabbed their coats and hats, apologized for the inconvenience and left. Disgust and horror returned to claim their rightful rooms once more.
Coco's jaw dropped. She saw it now. Applejack's fearfully intense green eyes had focused with a rapier's precision on the gorgeous centerpiece of the neckline. Equidistant from the shoulders, perched delicately on the satin trim, a lovely arrangement of white lace, a soft taupe ribbon, swatches of gentle green of many shades and a small series of pearls gave the impressions of baby's breath, clustered around a simply divine setting of aquamarine. When the pale icy blue stone caught the light just ri-
OH CELESTIA, she could SEE it! So Gross! So Gross! So GROSS! AUGH!!
How had that thing even FIT in her NOSE?!
Coco's hoofs fidgeted and she squirmed on her cushion. Ugh!! UGH!!
She had to look away.
Eyes down. Look to the stitches. Mind on her work. That was the ticket. Yes. Just keep focused on the work. Stitches tight. Stitches close. Professionalism. AH, yes. THAT was the key. Applejack? Not her marefriend, no. Nope. Whatever was going on over there was Noooooooone of HER concern, no ma'am, no way, no how. She was just going to watch what she was doing. What was Applejack up to? Creeping oh-so-casually over to the ponequinne and reaching over to- Not looking! No. She was not watching this. This, whatever it was, was NOT something she was watching. SHE was not going to be accountable for this moment in the disaster-piece theater of things which ensured she would remain a completely celibate, non-practicing lesbian -QUITE POSSIBLY for the rest of her life now...
HOW DID RARITY HAVE SEX WITH THIS MARE?!
She looked up. She had to. Whatever was happening, whatever fresh plane of Tartarus Applejack was taking the last strides towards, Coco had come this far as her silent co-pilot. She would walk these last miles into the flaming egress of the damned together.
Wait. What happened? She must have missed it. Whatever Applejack had done, her magical nose-missile was gone from the aesthetic of the deep plunge. The mare was leaning against the windowsill once more and making quite an impressive display of being casual. Of all the options in Coco's mind which Applejack might have used to dispose of the offending nostril-monster, she was going to pretend that she had plucked it free, raced to the hall bathroom to retrieve cleaning and disinfectant supplies, wiped down the gemstone and polished it to it's original, un-boogered luster, disposed of the spent cleaning materials in the appropriate recycling containers and then flicked the impossibly large snot-wad out the window, possibly "pegging" her previous target in defense of her marefriend's honor. Yes. This was a fantasy she could be comfortable with. So, barring any other information, reality would just have to shape itself to fit these needs.
Coco's lips drew thin.
She ate it, didn't she?
She slumped backwards, dragging a hoof across her face in defeated exasperation.
She closed her eyes and rubbed at the bridge of her snoot in an attempt to combat the developing tension headache.
Applejack... She was a wonderful pony, yes. Dependable, honest, moral, ethical, a very "good" pony. She came from an absolutely lovely family of friendly, caring country folk whom had passed on all their simple charm, witticisms and traditions to her, giving her a ...unique appeal among the more common forms of social interaction Coco had been accustomed to. She was brave- heroic, even, a champion of Equestria answering to no mare and with nothing to prove save perhaps to herself. She was certainly easy on the eyes if one could overlook the dust and dirt, the grime and general lack of hygiene.... occasional pest infestation of her mane, perhaps.
Still... she was Soooooooooooo GROSS.... So uncultured, so brutish and uncivilized. How could Rarity... BE with such a mare?
Coco Pommel looked to the Mare by the window. Applejack leaned back with a strange gleam to her eyes. Something unusual, something was different about her. She was simply sitting there, leaning back, her jaw set. Her green eyes had narrowed slightly as she looked across the room at Rarity. Was it her eyes? Yes... There was definitely something different about her eyes. They were somehow so much more intense now, focused on the ivory unicorn in a ...different... manner. The tattered vest clung to her barrel as she drew in such slow, heavy intakes.
Applejack lowered the brim of her hat, gathering the darkness about her. Her blonde mane became a cavern now, a veil of mystery, shrouding her intent in dusty golden straw. With a single motion, she slowly, smoothly raised a rough, worn hoof to pop loose the buttons of her vest, letting the frayed, worn fabric hang limply about her body. Her toned, muscular chest exposed, Coco watched the orange coat ripple with each intake... each long... slow... intake.
Her eyebrow cocked opposite to the slight upward curl of her lip. It was a devious smile on her face, a mischievous smile. Dark shadows from the brim of her hat gave her already intense gaze a predatory overtone. There was a magic in those eyes, in her stillness. Her every thought had become projected as clearly as spoken words, her every... want.
Her every command.
She wanted HER mare. It was magnetic. The ferocious power of the mare's studious gaze captivated Coco. In those eyes, so much had already happened. She could see it, feel it in the air. Applejack had already drawn close to her friend, taken great hoofuls of her violet mane and pressed their lips together, drinking deeply of Rarity's virtue. Her pulse pounded as she watched it play out in those deep, green eyes, what Applejack was doing. She could hear her friend whimper, mewling- pleading. The farmer was doing it, right there, like a savage. She was used to the wildest of bucking beasts, tying their limbs with her lasso, binding them, taking them into her powerful legs and breaking them, pounding them into submission by sheer force of will. She had sunk her teeth into Rarity's soft skin, running her hoofs all over her body- so brazen, without a care as to what Coco had to say about it. The alabaster beauty was HERS, ALL hers. She didn't NEED to prove it. Rarity knew it. She just wanted to.
No, no, she wanted COCO to see it. She must have.
From across the room and without moving, it was if she was eating the mare alive. That damnable, smirk, those eyes, they were daring Coco to say anything, do anything...
Coco sat, transfixed. She could feel her heart pulsing as Applejack rose from her seat. She didn't walk across the few short steps to them. No. She swaggered with all the power and machismo of ANY stallion. NO, buck that, more than any one stallion, ALL of them, even. She watched the powerful forelimbs confidently stride. Each shift of those flanks, the corded meat of those legs as she approached her target. Coco could smell her scent as she passed by- the harsh, rugged scent of days on the trail, dust, sweat and blood. It clung to her like a beast.
Coco liked it.
The farmer would mark her mare with her scent, marking her as HERS as surely as a sign nailed to her bedroom door- DARING any young buck to try and touch her. Coco could smell the cider on her breath, the hard, acidic sting of the alcohol curving in her smile as she slid close to Rarity, like a serpent bearing down upon a field mouse.
The farmer leaned close to her ear, drawing Rarity's attention. With a low, rough voice she spoke.
"Hey, Rares."
The alabaster unicorn turned slightly as the farmer's hoof reached up, curling around her, drawing the unicorn into her chest. Her rough, trail-worn hoof, jagged, cragged...
"Yes, Apple...Jack...?" Rarity paused, detecting something very different about her marefriend and blushing very brightly.
"Ya look good, Rares..." Applejack's hoof slid along Rarity's shoulder, the rough brush massaged at her barrel. "How ya doing?"
Rarity's voice grew airy, wispy and light. The fashionista swallowed as her body responded to the looming presence of her marefriend. Her barrel swelled sharply as her own breathing grew deeper, heavier, needy.
"I'm ... quite well...ah..."
The rough, calloused hoof drug across the soft fur of Rarity's immaculate coat. Her other hoof slid along the back of Rarity's foreleg, slowly increasing in the pressure as she guided her to put down the scissors. Rarity set them on the table beside her work, forgotten.
The animal scent of hours of bucking overpowered her senses and took her captive. The farmer's scent, hoofs harder than ten-penny nails thrusting out like hammers, worn, wet muscles, thick and taut as logging chains throwing about bushels of fruit the size of hay bales, dust and sweat filled her nostrils. It was as rough as her touch, as rough as her body as rough as everything to come...
The heat of Applejack's breath burned at her ear. Those teeth in that thin veneer of a smile, so dangerously close to her neck... her soft... smooth... delicate and unguarded neck. Applejack's hoof pressed into Rarity's jawline, gently, lovingly yet oh-so-firmly guiding her motions to where they BOTH knew she wanted them to be. Rarity yielded to the farmer's touch, pliant, soft. Those orange lips were so close to her neck, so close to Rarity's vulnerable, thirsty, desperate need. The petals of her blossom yawned, aching to feel her Applejack- HER mare...
"Are ya, now?"
Rarity smiled nervously, her Sapphire eyes darting to Coco.
The farmer paused. She looked to the cream-toned mare with a friendly, if not condescending, smirk.
That look... those eyes... she wasn't drunk, no. This was all her. This was the REAL Applejack... the way she moved with such purpose, such force of will... She could smell the cider on her breath. Oh Celestia, the farmer was looking right through her. Coco swallowed again, biting her lip and blushing furiously, unable to meet those eyes for any longer. She could practically feel those rough, calloused hoofs, running across her coat... No. Pulling her into that chest, rippling, powerful, grasping her like a straight-jacket. No. Holding her tightly- No, she couldn't think about that. Applejack was...
"Wail... 'scuse me... ladies." The farmer's smirk grew wider as she playfully swatted a hoof sharply across Rarity's plot with the CRACK of rawhide in the air. The fashionistas both jumped, though only Rarity yelped. As she touched a delicate white hoof to her chest, the farmer tipped her hat to Coco Pommel and chuckled knowingly. With a sway of her broad, powerful hips, Applejack swaggered by the young mare and trod her way across the hall to Rarity's bedroom door, disappearing inside without another word.
The air was palpable...
The two tried desperately to not make eye contact. Staring to their hoofs as if they held the secrets of the universe.
"Uhm... yes..." Rarity adjusted her glasses and straightened her mane. "Coco, dear... would you please be a darling and watch the shop for me for a few minutes? Uhm- yes. Perhaps a BIT more. I... have a... yes... a THING I need to... ahem..."
"Go."
Her voice was small, yet quite deliberate. Coco didn't even look to her friend. She couldn't.
"Go, go, go."
Rarity hissed out a whispered and rather urgent "Thank you!" and gave her cheek a friendly kiss. The alabaster mare hopped up from her cushion and made for the bedroom. She didn't walk. She didn't trot. Rarity SCRAMBLED for that door. Coco watched her go, taking note of the ripe, red hoofprint forming on Rarity's ample, curvaceous plot. The unicorn hit the door like the youngest foal of the family on Hearth's-Warming Morn, shutting it behind her with a sharp intake of air.
Finally, Coco breathed again.
Maybe she had been breathing... If so, she wasn't aware of it. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She could hear the blood rushing through her body. Her skin tingled, electric with the need for what was left in the air- the need for what was in those commanding green eyes.
The scent of the farmer's body, the musky, lustful air... the rough tone of her voice.... the alcohol on her breath... those hoofs and they way they both caressed Rarity's form... and ordered it to conform to her will at once...
She swallowed hard and gave a nervous chuckle.
"Well... That answered THAT."
---fin---
Author's Note
I hope you enjoyed, everypony.
To get a little meta, being involved in the lifestyle myself for about twenty years now, I'm often saddened by how few positive representations I see. Generally it seems inexperienced writers will attempt to pass off abuse or assault as a functional D/S relationship. The magnetism between partners is often subtle and difficult for anyone outside of the lifestyle to understand- seldom including all the stereotypical trappings of most art sites and the extremely unhealthy ideas presented in the majority of "hentai" manga.
Another key point I felt it might be good to bring up is the notion of "established/standing consent" which exists between many partners.
One of the first lessons a proper domme will learn are the three primary rules of S.S.C.-
Safe- are you completely in control of the situation and capable of preventing any genuine harm from befalling ALL participants?
Sane- are all parties involved of legally mature, unimpaired emotionally and psychologically sound mind, able to give informed consent to participate?
Consent- most important of all, are all parties aware of what is to be done and willing to do so, free of coercion or manipulation?
Between persons who may be under the influence of chemical substance, any physical intimacy is highly unethical and to be abhorred, failing the rules of consent on multiple fronts. However, once a serious couple is established, one which partakes in regular physical intimacy, it can be agreed that intimate contact is understood to be fair game.
Just wanted to be sure I brought that point home for any concerned parties- If they've been drinking- no touchie. No sah.
Love yourselves and love one another, everypony.
