Survival Through Resignation

Apple Bloom kneeled down in line with all of the other girls. This was a weekly occurrence for her anymore, give or take a few days in either direction, since she had finished her training a few days before her nineteenth birthday. She and all other fully trained slaves were lined up and made to strip and assume the same position. They would drop to their knees, hold their arms behind their back with their chests out and their heads down. They were to hold this position until told to do otherwise.

Apple Bloom hated doing this. Despite how infrequently and intermittently it happened, she was always expected to return to her work immediately after. Some of these sessions took hours while the buyers negotiated, and she would have to sit there on her knees in the same position the whole time. When they were done talking, despite a several hour delay that she could not plan for, she was still expected to complete her work. Sometimes, she'd even miss her dinner because of it.

She didn't know who had come to look at her this time. She never knew who it was. At best, she could see their feet and hear their voice, but as she was not allowed outside of the building, she couldn't connect their feet or voice to a name or face. She had no way of knowing who was standing in front of her at any given time.

Today, she opted to look at the feet of the pony in front of her. They were grey and calloused, not protected by shoes, but he was wearing shin guards. This type of clothing was typical of zebras, but the colour of his feet detailed that he was not actually a zebra. Likely, he was a pony like her.

"My master would like this one, I think," he said, standing in front of Apple Bloom. "Tell me, slave, do you have any experience with farm work?"

Apple Bloom nodded. She was not allowed to speak during these unless she was asked a question that required more than a yes or no.

"What's your name?"

"Whatever my master wishes it to be, sir."

"What is your experience with farming?"

In the past, Apple Bloom had puffed up her chest with pride, but the whip had taught her to remain still. "Before I became a slave, I was a farmer, sir. After that, I was sometimes assigned to yard work by the staff here."

"Where were you a farmer?"

"Ponyville, sir."

There was a pause. "What was your name?"

"Apple Bloom, sir."

There was a pause, and then some scribbling before he walked down the line. What struck Apple Bloom as odd was that he'd chosen to interview her, but had not asked anyone else anything. When he reached the end of the line, he asked to see the other slaves in the other wings, prompting himself, the headmaster, and the headmaster's personal slave to move to another room to interview more slaves.

They were still under guard supervision, and none of them said a word or moved, other than Genevieve. With only slight movements undetectable unless you were looking for them, Apple Bloom twisted her head a few degrees to her right and strained her peripheral vision to see Gen's claws.

"That was weird," signed Gen. "Do you know him?"

"How would I?" signed Apple Bloom back. "I only saw his feet."

"Yes, but you might have seen them before."

"No, I don't know who he is."

"I think he likes you."

"I think he's stupid. There are plenty of ponies here that are better gardeners than I."

"Bullshit."

No more words were exchanged, neither verbally nor in sign language. They just sat there in silence for the next hour and a half as the purchaser and headmaster walked around the other wings, discussing the purchase of other slaves. When they finally came back, the slaves were dismissed immediately.

When they retired to their rooms for the night, one of the guards came by, aside from the usual ones. "Tomorrow, one of you leaves this room. This is your last night, Apple Bloom. In the morning, you and your stuff are to gather in the front, without any huff."

The news came as a bit of a shock to everyone in the room, and was met with mixed feelings. Obviously, they all wanted to know that Apple Bloom was going somewhere better, and some of them expressed excitement and hope. Others were more aware that Apple Bloom was actively shielding them from punishments, and they would suffer more with her gone. Others yet were either wishing that they had been chosen, and the rest were glad they hadn't.

Gen was clearly ambivalent to this. On one hand, she was about to be separated from Apple Bloom. Ever since Sandstorm had been sold, Apple Bloom had been her only friend. Of course she wanted what was best for Apple Bloom, but she wanted that to mean that they went out together.

After the lights went out, Apple Bloom went to bed, but Gen came up with her. "Gen, you know what'll happen if the guards catch us like this," she whispered.

"If they catch me, that's fine. You're not bound to their rules as of tomorrow. Just one night. That's all I want."

As Gen's claws gently ran down Apple Bloom's body, she nuzzled her neck with her beak. Apple Bloom let out a small moan. They'd done this before a few times, and it had only brought them closer. Now that they were about to be separated, Apple Bloom couldn't deny Gen's feelings.

"Okay, but keep quiet. Ah don't want your last memory of me to be tainted." She rolled over and pulled off her shift. Gen had climbed into bed naked, making it much easier for Apple Bloom to grab her breasts. Her lips pressed to Gen's beak as she pulled the gryphon up on top of her, their tongues turning into a pair of writhing tentacles as Apple Bloom's hands slowly ran down Gen's body, gripping her arsecheeks as they moaned into each other's mouths.

"No fair," breathed Gen, pushing her hips into Apple Bloom's hands. "You know I'm sensitive there..."

"You gonna do somethin' 'bout it?" teased Apple Bloom between kisses.

"Yeah," smirked Gen, digging her claws into Apple Bloom's snatch. "I'm going to finger you."