One Fell Out of the Apple Tree

Right here was a really good spot. You know the spot. One with the best array of moonlight, the best view, the best clearing. A nice field to graze, and Apple Bloom didn’t know it then, but grass did taste the best when it was covered in late night dew. But they didn’t come to snack.

“Woah! Did you see that?” The filly pointed at the starry sky. A stray rocket of light shot through the great void of space. It was quick, and if she weren’t looking up at just the right time it was very likely she would’ve missed. Big Mac was way more perceptive than her. He had to see it. “Didja?” Her voice held that childish excitement that only the naive could harbor.

“Eyep,” the stallion nodded and he too looked up at the sky. Apple Bloom was on his back just like this morning, but she stood on her hind legs and rested her fore hooves on the very top of his head to have a better reach of the sky. They watched in silence for a minute. No new comet soared from the great beyond, but the stars that were stagnant made for a nice sight. If they looked very closely they could make out a constellation or two.

The filly nearly lost her footing when Big Mac started moving again.

The two were pretty far from the farmhouse, in fact Apple Bloom could see the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ treehouse just a yard away. Her big brother saw it too, and he left their perfect spot to head towards the small structure. The filly held on tightly to his blonde mane like the steers of a buggy. Apple Bloom was ready for the ride, she basked in it. With every bump, every dip, every movement—none of it could discourage the freedom horseback riding provided, and her brother was her stead.

Nonetheless, Big Mac was no racehorse, and so he took his time when he trotted along. Hoof to the beaten path. An even clop as the stallion’s knees altered like the coupling rods of a locomotive. The filly was gambado in both motion and spirit. The world was so large from up so high. Her mane bounced against her tiny forehead. Cheeks elated as a smile spread wide across them.

“Look, Big Mac!” Apple Bloom scrambled to climb down when her brother came to a stop. He lowered his neck to give her an easy route to the ground, and she used his head as a slide. Her rump knocked against his wet snout and he blew from his nostrils as if he were about to sneeze. “Look what we added in here,” Apple Bloom climbed the ladder to the treehouse. The hatch door was opened and she wiggled herself into it. Immediately the foal ran towards the far back wall where her and her friends had mapped out all the tasks they completed in an attempt to earn their cutie marks. The list was as long as Celestia’s legs, and there were a lot of tasks crossed out. Looking at it brought a feeling of great accomplishment, yet it still triggered this sense of disappointment. Either way, she really wanted her brother to see it.

Big Mac could only really fit his head through the trap door. Apple Bloom giggled when a tiger-faced pony peeked around the small room. A giant in a dollhouse. A head in a box.

“Can ya see it from all the way over there?” The wall got a nice tap. The knock against the hollow wood traveled all the way to his head, and if he were a metal bell she was sure there would be an echo.

“You made it?” He asked and he sounded very impressed.

Apple Bloom puffed her chest out with pride. “Ah did..well..we all did, but it was my idea,”

“It’s any wonder ya ain’t got yer mark yet,”

“Yeah…” It was any wonder. At this point life was just playing a cruel joke on her. Beyond her friends, every foal in class had a mark. Now how was that fair? “..do you think we’ll get it soon?” She asked, and to her Big Mac had the wisdom of a seasoned sage. Not to mention his honesty. Applejack was literally the embodiment of honesty, but sometimes her words didn’t hit as close to home as his, so she awaited his answer as a tiger stroked its furry chin in thought.

With a smile he said, “nope,” and Apple Bloom all but playfully charged at his face with a mighty roar.

“Nope? Oh you big ol’—I’ll make you eat those words,” she tugged at the furious feline's jowl, forcing it’s lips apart to show it’s scary teeth, and in the process the two went tumbling out of the treehouse. Big Mac caught her fall then presented his cheek again so she could give it a nice punch. No punches for a big cat; it’d be too easy to get snagged in its jaws. She caught the tiger by the ears and wrangled him to the ground. Immediately the beast came in for another attack in the form of belly tickles. Apple Bloom squirmed on her back as he blew very ferine raspberries against her very ticklish spot.

Apple Bloom fell into a laughing fit. “Okay, okay, you win!” She yelled through pleasant tears.

Big Mac pulled away to give her a second of mercy. “Mark or not, ah still love you for you,”

Apple Bloom looked at him from her spot on the ground and a smile spread across her face. The amount of unadulterated admiration she held that that very moment could be felt stronger than the gravitational pull the planets had around the sun. “Yer only saying that because yer my brother,”

“Ah see I gotta prove it, huh?” He went right back to his killer tickles, and Apple Bloom had to hold her gut lest she die of hysteria. As she giggled he rested his large chin on her stomach, the air blowing from her nostrils caused the fur on her chest to dance. Apple Bloom gently curled her body around his large snout and her legs were so tiny it wasn’t easy for them to reach his standing ears. Big Mac continued to breathe against her smaller form, wearing her like a mask.

Apple Bloom, through a few pauses of laughter, reminded him, “that tickles,” and it did the way he blew and sniffed like she was the sweetest flower in Twilight’s kingdom. It felt silly as tickles did, but it only started to feel strange when he opened his mouth to lightly nibble on her belly. Still Apple Bloom giggled, perhaps out of this feeling of not knowing. It sure did seem okay, and when his nibbling went a little lower than her belly, it seemed okay too. It wasn’t until it reached her peach did she stop giggling.

“Yer not supposed to touch me there,” She reminded Big Mac, and it was obvious he must’ve not known. Applejack did only share the no-no spots with her. Apple Bloom was always willing to educate and inform. It made her feel very grown up.

Yet Big Mac didn’t hear her because he didn’t stop and instead he opened his mouth wider and pressed his tongue against her peach. It caused her to yelp from the sudden warmness. That felt very funny, and it felt even worse when his tongue ran down it and up it again. The filly squirmed, and he poked his tongue deep inside her before wrapping his lips against the whole of her peach to suck on it like it was a real fruit, but it wasn’t a real fruit, and what he was doing was very, very bad.

Apple Bloom panicked then.

She shrieked and her hind hoof kicked against him to use his face as a surface to propel herself to break free. It took a few kicks to get him to let her go, but when he did she quickly got to her feet and took a defensive stance. With her legs splayed and her head low, Apple Bloom threatened to charge at him again, only this time a little less playfully. “You gotta listen! I said..!” She yelled like a brat. “..you can’t touch me there!” Big and loud. A roar as mighty as a griffin’s.

Big Mac stood up and when the stallion got to his hooves Apple Bloom saw a strange snake dangle from between her legs. She recognized it for what it was. There was a game a few of the older fillies played a year ago. The goal was to pretend to accidentally walk into the wrong bathroom while it was in use, and it seemed fun. If bigger foals played, Apple Bloom thought to do the same just to prove she was grown up. So she did it; walked in the male’s bathroom and saw a colt’s private parts. Immediately she apologized and left with rosy cheeks, but it made the other ponies laugh, and maybe that was another goal of the game. Even still, the willy she saw was nowhere as huge as Big Mac’s.

“Don’t pee out here. You gotta go inside,” despite Apple Bloom’s previous anger, she couldn’t help but try to steer Big Mac in the right direction. Willies only came out when nature was calling, and civilized ponies knew to use plumbing. Even though he was an adult he seemed so clueless tonight. It was so silly. The tiger paint must’ve fried his brain.

The stallion circled around to her rump, sniffing it. His snout lifted beneath her tail. Apple Bloom gasped then sat down. “Stop it! You aren’t listening to me!” He refused to respond to any of her comments, and now the smelling wasn’t funny but slightly frightening. Apple Bloom had her eyes on his odd willy. It twitched and leaked something too clear to be pee. She wondered if Big Mac didn't feel good. She wondered if he fell sick. “Please listen!” Another whine.

He bit down at the base of her tail which hauled her flank in the air. It wasn’t aggressive, rather a gentle lift to the feet, but it was reciprocated with Apple Bloom instinctively bucking him on the cheek. His head barely swayed on its hinges. In fact, it didn’t move at all. That kick had a lot of force exerted from her tiny legs, but it didn’t phase him. It just did nothing. “Big Mac!” The scream was to rattle whatever was left in her brother’s brain. She told him before what wasn’t appropriate. It wasn’t that hard to understand. “Why are you ignoring me!?” Apple Bloom was crying now. Hot tears swelled at her eyes as a blend of fear and frustration brewed inside her like scolding coffee. Apple Bloom made a full u-turn, her rump no longer at his snout, but they were nose to nose, and he raised his head slightly to peck her and smear tiger paint on her lips.

A kiss would usually be okay, but Big Mac had that strange look in his eyes again. She didn’t like it. The thought of running into the treehouse where he couldn’t get her was very tempting, but Apple Bloom didn’t want to fear her brother. She didn’t want to fear him at all. He was sick, maybe he came down with something really bad. “We…we need to go back so Applejack can help you,” and she genuinely thought it would be a good idea to mention their sister. She genuinely thought he would appreciate the help.

“We don't tell AJ.” That was the first thing he said something in a while. Big Mac started to move, once again heading for her backside, but Apple Bloom was quick to turn as he did.

“I’m gonna tell her,” the filly’s face was still tear ridden, but she had an angry scowl replace her weeping frown. He was as stubborn as an old mule. “You aren’t feeling good so she’s gonna help you!!”

Big Mac raised a brow. He stopped trying to chase her tail and instead stood with his neck raising ever so slightly like the tide at Seaward Shoals. “Help? When on Luna’s moon did ah done say ah needed help?” His voice wasn’t particularly angry. It wasn’t particularly playful either. It was that dead baritone that accompanied most conversations he’d have with strangers.

“Then why are you doing it?” And just like that her tough guy facade was crumbling, and it was crumbling fast. She stared at his willy swaying about with each movement, and Apple Bloom just found herself confused. It mesmerized her like a dancing python preparing to strike. She was distracted. It wasn't until it was out of her line of vision did she realize her brother was once again behind her. Before the filly could sprint out of the way, he stood above her, a gazebo for the smaller equine, and his willy poked against the back of her head. Apple Bloom had plans to scoot up as she didn’t like it, but then his forelegs went down and his upper body along with it. This meant she also went down as her head was now pinned to the dirt. He was crushing her, but strangely he was gentle enough not to apply the whole of his massive weight on top of her, which allowed her to still breathe. Still she panicked, and with panic came hyperventilation, and with that came the need to shove more air in the lungs.

“Get…get off!!” She screeched, and she tried to wiggle under him, and her hind legs went up as they struggled to pull the rest of the body free. She felt her brother reposition himself awkwardly above her before something wet and slick rubbed against her flank. Apple Bloom was still pinned and whatever was against her was pushing and it was pushing hard. At first it only slid against the curvature of her behind smearing goo in her fur and tangling her tail. It didn’t take long for it to poke lower and lower like an elephant’s trunk searching for a peanut. It bumped up against her anus, rubbing and coating glop on it, and making her squeal louder than the pigs in the barn.

Big Mac stopped. His willy pulled away from her, a mind of its own, and a mind deciding against that particular spot. She hoped it was because he knew it didn’t feel so good for her, but it was only a few seconds later that his thingy started searching again. The thing felt moist, flat at the end, and it easily was wider than the whole of her cunny. As it started rubbing along her peach she could feel it against both butt cheeks. The sensation of this thing kneading against her privates felt more funny than the licking. At first it didn’t particularly feel bad. As he rubbed she stopped squirming and her breathing even slowed as she felt a tingle between her legs. The wet, slick, sounds his thingy made as it coated her more and more in sticky goo had Apple Bloom clenching his fur. “B-big Mac,” she whined. It felt good, her brain decided. It felt really good that her hips slightly tried to follow the motion of his rubbing. “Big Mac…” her small voice had a hint of pleasure in it. His rubbing was making her peach feel hot. She opened her legs wider, but only just a little. Building pressure was rising in her gut. “..Big Mac…Big Mac I’m gonna pee,” whatever he was doing it was making her want to burst, and that was scary. She couldn’t hold it back either. Something was coming—

Her brother made a low grunt above her. The rubbing stopped and it was replaced with more pushing, only he wasn’t as tender this time. Apple Bloom didn’t know what was happening until the shoving started to burn and she realized he was trying to force his willy into her. He pushed, and the air was knocked out of her lungs. What was once coming had halted as if a great dam was quickly constructed to keep the pee in. She was muted—the words jammed in her throat. She couldn’t tell him to stop. She couldn’t tell him how painful it felt the more he pushed. She couldn’t even scream. Her brother continued to grunt. The flat end of his thingy kept slipping. It’d return to its target, then slip. It’d try again and again with more added force but she was just too small to fit him. A push, and her entrance wouldn’t stretch far enough. He’d slip. All it did was bruise her lips and cause great discomfort.

Yet he persisted. A rub. A swaying of hips. A push. A shove. A rocking, steady, a ship on calm waters. It felt worse than a whooping. It felt so bad that Apple Bloom couldn’t keep her legs up, yet she was held by his willy, lifted by it as it tried countless times to tear into her. With each strange sound he made on top of her, his body pressed further and further down. She feared he would get so lost in his attempts that he’d forget her other half was below him and soon she would be suffocated and squished.

But Apple Bloom couldn’t get the words out to tell him. No matter how hard the tears came, or how red she got in the face, they were just stuck. She was going to die. She was going to die right here beneath her treehouse and below the brother she didn’t know she could ever fear. Black specs danced along the filly’s vision. It dawned on her she hadn’t taken a breath in a while. An alarming exertion to expand the lungs was made to no avail. To breathe was as hard a task as an earth pony learning how to fly. The black specs grew larger and larger each passing second.

Then something shot against her underbelly. It was hot and it stuck to her fur and glued her compressed upper half to the grass. The low grunting transformed into a gratifying bellow. Big Mac stood up then. The hot goo was still spraying as it got her on the back and in her mane. It burned like molten magma, and it made the rush of cool air prick worse than subzero temperatures.

Apple Bloom sucked in a breath. Her whole body expanded, a balloon filled with oxygen, before it deflated just the same. Over and over again it repeated the process until at least that cork in her throat was spat out and she managed to make a weak cry. “…I’m sorry..” She wanted Applejack. She wanted her sister more than anything. She wanted to be held and comforted, “..I’m sorry,” and she wanted to understand what she did wrong to make Big Mac hurt her. So she cried, and she bayed, and she whinnied in hopes Applejack would come to her aid.

But her cries would go unanswered.