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Big Mac exhaled as Apple Bloom’s pussy lips parted over his heavily lubed tip. He slid her down his shaft till he met with resistance about halfway in and her hind legs scrunched up against the hanging gut he’d developed. Not once had he taken a filly with his own hip thrusts. It would be reckless with the goods, not to mention it was a waste of energy. Bouncing them in his lap was more than adequate.

Apple Bloom felt just the same on the inside as the rest of her classmates and was an average depth. Her vice-like walls gripped his flesh just as tight as the rest of them. He’d never gotten hugs from her quite like this. As he worked her up and down to his pleasure, somewhere in the back of his mind came a muffled scream from the pony he used to be, the hardworking stallion who walked his little sister to school every morning, played with her at the swimming hole, brought pizza to the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ clubhouse and blushed when he talked to girls at the market.

He could only watch, detached and powerless as he thoughtlessly tossed the last sacred thing on the fire just for another desperate moment of sensation.

He used to make Apple Bloom do a lot of things, eat her greens, do her homework and her chores. There was a time where making her do something like this was unthinkable but now she was just another hole carrying the hope that her familial association with him would shock and tantalize.

When he came, he closed his eyes, clinging to that little blip of something. These were the moments he wished would last forever. They were so short but so costly.

“Ah feel nothin’,” he whispered before withdrawing from his little sister, the filly he’d promised with Applejack to raise. He placed her neatly back in her seat just like all the rest.

Maybe it was just the town, he hoped. He needed a change in scenery, a change in anything. He got up and left the irrevocably tainted schoolhouse and headed down the dusty trail to Sweet Apple Acres. This road is so long, he grumbled internally. It was hard to believe he’d walked it at least twice nearly every day without ever complaining.

When the old orchard finally materialized around him, memories of his previous life came flooding back and he began to feel sick and anxious. This used to be his home before everywhere was his home. He remembered what it was like. He remembered how difficult but wholesome it was and how his old life contrasted with his existence now and it made him uncomfortable.

There was no way of knowing but he was sure he hadn’t been here for years. Though of course it looked exactly the same as when he left but unlike the schoolhouse or Vinyl’s bed, it felt foreign to him now.

He passed by the pig pen with its static inhabitants and stepped up onto the rickety old porch. Pigs and cows, he mused. He hadn't tried them yet…

It seemed so strange now that he just left this place one day and hadn't seen the rest of his family for years. Big Mac stepped warily inside as if he were trespassing in somepony else's house.

He sighed, looking at the few family photos on the wall. Then he peered into the kitchen and recoiled in terror. His blood ran cold as he gazed into the fuming glare of Applejack. All at once, from that one look, shame, guilt and the fear of judgment returned to Big Mac.

"Don't look at me like that,” he pleaded in a shaky voice, fighting the urge to immediately turn tail and run. “You- youda done the same thing,” he argued weakly.

But Applejack, unconvinced, maintained her unblinking evil eye.

He shook his head. “Ah never asked fer any a this!” he cried, putting his hooves to the sides of his head. “Ya don’t know what it's like. Yer all alone an’- an’ everythin's fake and empty an' there’s a hole in ya and ya can’t fill it with nothin’!” He threw himself on the floor and put his front hooves together, begging for amnesty. “Please,” he sobbed. Stop lookin’ at me! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

His words fell on deaf ears as Applejack stared into him, enraged and betrayed and so very disappointed.