What Happens in the Cellar...

Applejack had never wanted to be royalty. This experience was really helping to enhance that.

"Look, all I'm saying is that I would love it if you could roleplay like you're actually the Princess cucking your husband."

There was something unnerving about being confronted by an extremely assertive Carrot Cake. Applejack had known the stallion her entire life, and he would easily rank in her 'top three most submission stallions' criteria. Yet, here he was, desperately trying to get her to abuse the authority of Cadance's body.

"Sorry, sir," Applejack replied with Cadance's sweet voice. "But that's not the kind of barn I run."

"It's an anonymous party," Carrot insisted. "What's the point in being here if not to loosen up a bit?"

Before Applejack could fire back a biting retort, something bumped into her chair, and another something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention: the yellow flank and cherry red tail of her little sister disappearing under the next table!

Applejack held up a hoof. "Hold that thought." With her magic, she lifted the tablecloth of the table she thought she'd seen her sister scamper under, just in time to catch the pink and purple tail of her sister's partner in crime.

Sweetie Belle? What were those troublemakers up to?

"What kind of barn do you run, then?" Carrot Cake inquired. "You don't have to do the cuck thing! I promise, I'm flexible. We can negotiate."

"Look, sir, you're very handsome—" Applejack balked. She couldn't just lie like that, could she? "—to Cup Cake, but—" No, Horse Apples, that's just making it worse. Now she was really stuck between a rock and a hard place. She needed to peaceably get this stallion to back off so she could figure out what those little nincompoops were up to this time.

"Oh, I'm plenty handsome normally, miss. I'm up for the challenge, though. Would you like to give my silver tongue a test? One kiss, that's all I ask, and if you still want to find another stallion, then I'll concede."

Applejack couldn't focus on the stallion in front of her, scanning the yard until she caught sight of the two youths again, scampering toward the farmhouse. They were supposed to be staying at Carousel Boutique with Scootaloo! What were they up to?

"Yeah, whatever," Applejack said, waving a hoof dismissively. She stood up and spread her wings, but before she could go anywhere, Carrot Cake had grabbed her chin and planted his muzzle upon her lips.

The brazenness of this stallion! To do this to a princess, no less!

...But oh, sweet Celestia did he know how to kiss...

Against her better judgment, Applejack found herself returning the kiss. She needed to find out what those troublemakers were up to, but... it could wait...

...wow...

White lips pressed together against orange, then separated, before pressing together again, their tongues grappling and releasing. Hooves caressed against teats, teasing nipples.

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo breathed heavily, laying side by side on Rarity's duvet.

"Your sister's going to kill us," Scootaloo murmured.

"I don't care," Sweetie Belle replied happily. "I want you to pick up where we left off."

Their tryst that evening had been rather poorly timed. Intense foreplay had led to a much delayed segue into passionate, oral sex. And the end result of the delay was Apple Bloom had walking in on them, throwing off the whole night.

Once things with Apple Bloom had been sorted, the pair needed some time to relax again, and now had started again 'from the top', as Sweetie Belle's music instructor would say.

Top indeed, Sweetie Belle thought to herself, giddy with anticipation as her thigh was tickled by the orange pegasus filly above her.

A moment later, Scootaloo swung her hind leg over Sweetie Belle's frame, and didn't even wait to get settled before Sweetie Belle felt the caress of her friend's tongue against her folds. Instead, Scootloo's own legs stayed straight, her nectar dripping from her snatch and dropping, tantalizingly, onto the tip of Sweetie Belle's muzzle.

The intoxicating smell drove her wild as Scootaloo lathered Sweetie’s own drooling cunny with innocently inexperienced tongue-work.

"Please," Sweetie begged, wanting nothing more than to lap her friend's nectar directly from the source.

Scootaloo hummed a non-answer, blowing lightly across Sweetie's dampened sex, playing a frisson chill up Sweetie's spine. And then, as if only to build further anticipation–for whom, Sweetie couldn't be sure–Scootaloo began to slowly lower herself dripping lips to Sweetie Belle's face.

Scant moments before those divine lips made contact with Sweetie's own, a pain shot down her spine. She winced, closing her eyes as the sudden pain ached in her back. Shifting back and forth to get comfortable again, the pain faded. And she opened her eyes again.

The sound of Scootaloo's scream would have been heard for miles if not for Rarity's soundproofing.

Twilight was glad for two things in the moment:

1) She'd spent the last five years living as an alicorn, and had gotten used to flying.

2) Blossomforth was an athlete and had great stamina.

What she wasn't glad about was that she wasn't getting dicked six ways to Moonday like she'd hoped to be getting at this point in the evening.

Hovering in place above the party, Twilight kept her eyes peeled. If the Crusaders had gotten into the brew, they couldn't have gotten too far. At least, she hoped so. If all three were involved, there was no way to know which filly was still a filly, but at the very least, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were involved, and Big Macintosh and Granny Smith's bodies were unaccounted for, so those were the ponies she was keeping a lookout for.

After a few moments, her keen pegasus hearing blessed her with the sound of heavy, pounding hoof falls galloping in the distance. Twilight spun slowly in place, scanning the surroundings as she homed in on the source of the noise: Big Macintosh galloping clumsily across the orchard. He seemed to be alone, though, which was concerning. The fillies were almost inseparable.

Below her, the party was getting a little restless at the lack of a server for the bar. That was normally Pinkie or Granny's job, depending on what Granny wanted that year. The last thing they needed was a throng of ponies starting to look for Granny Smith, not knowing what was going on. The situation still had the potential to get catastrophically worse.

She hustled back to the ground, touching down just outside the barn door and darted inside. "Pinkie?" she called from the top of the stairs to the cellar.

"Twilight?" Sweetie Belle's voice came back. "Why are you back here?"

"You're a unicorn right now. Do you think you can teleport?"

"Teleport? As a unicorn? Twilight, it takes way less effort to teleport as a unicorn than it does as an earth pony."

Not even gonna think about that right now, Twilight swore, filing that one away for later discussion. "So you can do it?"

A sparkling wave of magical energy manifested next to her as Sweetie Belle popped into existence. "Absopositively!" Pinkie cheered in the wrong voice.

"Okay, good." Twilight tried to ignore the apparent ease with which Pinkie could do that. "I need you to intercept one of the girls; she currently looks like Big Macintosh and coming this way very quickly, from the direction of the CMC clubhouse. I need her to stay calm, and I think it'll be best if it comes from Sweetie Belle and not a random pegasus she barely knows. I also have another growing crisis I need to deal with."

"Another one?!" Pinkie cried. "Well, get going then! I'm on it!" And the little filly vanished from sight in another soft green burst of energy.

Nodding with satisfaction, Twilight stepped outside the barn. The safest pony would be Applejack. Applejack knew the property inside and out, and had more than enough ability to handle a crisis. And Applejack would be Princess Cadance right now, which, as the tallest mare around, made her particularly easy to find.

It was somewhat surprising, then, to see that she wasn't fending off a gaggle of stallions. Instead, she was passionately kissing... Mr. Cake?

"Lunadamnit, Shining," Twilight muttered under her breath.

She quickly fluttered over to the table in question. Mr Cake's hoof shot out and pressed against her chest. His lips separated from Cadance. "Sorry, I'm only interested in this one," he mumbled, separating himself from her lips for a moment.

"That's alright," Twilight growled. "Your first time was in a broom closet at your best friend's house, playing a game of seven minutes in heaven. When you found out who you were with, you completely lost it and couldn't look at her for a month."

Mr. Cake sobered immediately and backed off.

"And you," she said, addressing Applejack. "Your sister's in trouble. I'm handling it, but I need you to handle a different issue."

A flash of recognition crossed Cadance's features. "Okay, I'm listening."

"Serve the ponies at the bar. Once things have died down, or if you run out of cider, come inside and we can figure out what to do next."

"No," Mr. Cake blurted. "No. I don't know who she is," he said, pointing to Cadance, before his hoof moved to point at Twilight. "But I'm certain I know who you are, now. And if it's that serious, I'll serve the drinks. Let the Pink Lady deal with whatever crisis is going on. But I have one condition."

Twilight turned her attention to Mr Cake. "What's that?"

"This is an anonymous sex party. My first time was actually anonymous, and only you and I know the truth about what followed. I want an encore to that."

Twilight flushed a deep red, particularly prominent on her pale-furred form. "That would be acceptable."

“I knew it would be,” he chuckled.

"Thank ya kindly," Cadance said, planting a kiss on his cheek. "I wouldn't mind meeting up with you later, too. And from the sounds of it, I'm sure Blossomforth here could help with that."

Twilight nodded absently, still lost in a pleasant memory.

"Blossom?" Applejack asked. "Hey, we have a crisis, don't we?"

What? Crisis? Twilight shook her head, casting away the lewd thoughts that were getting her riled up. "Right. To the farmhouse."

Apple Bloom's heart thundered in her chest even louder than the crash of hooves galloping unsteadily toward home. Thoughts raced through her mind, careening together and driving her anxiety ever higher.

What happened to me?

Why did I turn into my brother?

What happened to my brother?

Is this all a dream?

Will anypony believe me?

Will anypony help?

What if I'm not the only one?

Is that Sweetie Belle?!

Apple Bloom skidded to a halt mere inches from trampling her best friend. "Sweetie Belle! Ah'm so glad to see you."

"I'm glad to see you, too," Sweetie Belle said excitedly. "But there's a big problem going on. It's very important that you come with me and don't talk to anypony else."

Apple Bloom hesitated. Sweetie Belle recognized her? But she looked like Big Macintosh! "What's going on?" she blurted, falling in behind her friend.

Sweetie Belle glanced back at her and grinned, still trotting forward. "Well, you got into my secret stash, obviously. So which one are you? Apple Bloom? Scootaloo?"

My secret stash? Then... she must be "Pinkie Pie?" Apple Bloom asked.

"Corrrrrrect!" the little filly bounced excitedly, pronking her way forward for several paces.

No, not a little filly, Apple Bloom reminded herself. That was Sweetie Belle's usual teenage size, Apple Bloom was just a lot bigger than she was used to, which made her friend seem so much smaller.

"I'm sorry," Apple Bloom blurted. "I didn't know this was gonna happen."

"Apple Bloom, huh?" Sweetie Belle—no, Pinkie Pie— said, leading Apple Bloom away from party-central and toward the back side of the farmhouse. "Yeah, I suppose that makes sense."

"How did you know it was me?"

"Because Scootaloo would never apologize," she replied, matter-of-factly. "And you didn’t seem surprised to see yourself. Did Scootaloo drink some, too?"

There was no fault in that logic. "She did," Apple Bloom confessed. "We all did, but nothing happened, so we thought we did it wrong or something."

"The potion has to be activated by a spell. We didn't get around to explaining that part yesterday, which means~~~!” Sweetie’s horn began to glow and a drumroll could be heard somewhere in the distance. Then, Pinkie Pie twirled in a circle and came to rest with her hoof pointing straight at Apple Bloom. The drumroll was cut off by the sound of a cymbal crash. “You were spying on us!” Pinkie declared. “That's how you knew to use the strand of your mane, wasn't it?"

Pinkie Pie always seemed like she lived in another universe, and yet her powers of deduction rivaled the smartest ponies Apple Bloom knew. "Yeah, we did," she admitted.

"And so you went after my secret stash..." Pinkie said, turning the corner of the farmhouse.

"You didn't hide it very well."

"Nooo, I didn't, did I?" Pinkie replied, cackling. "But come on, we need to get you inside!"

Rarity had always wanted to be royalty. This experience was really helping to enhance that. She was garbed in royal finery - admittedly, of her own making - and stallions had been groveling at her hooves, begging her to select them - some of them roleplaying the moment, and others just hoping they had a chance. And, using a simple metric, she'd narrowed down the choice to just one.

The stallion seated in front of her was incredibly, ruggedly handsome. His lustrous mane was let down in golden waves, framing the avocado green fur of his sharp features and his five-o-clock shadow. He smiled wide, showing off perfect teeth, and Rarity's heart nearly burst with affection.

On any other day, she wouldn't give this stallion one iota of a glance, as the personality normally attached to it was sadly lacking - a good fit for Rainbow Dash, as she'd insisted, but not for a fine, sophisticated pony such as herself. But whichever suave pony inhabited his frame now knew how to leverage it, and he was winning her over rapidly.

"Oh, sir!" Twilight Sparkle's voice floated from her throat with a giggle. "You are incorrigible!"

"I'm sorry, mi'lady, but I don't even know the meaning of the word." He grasped her hoof in his own. "Shall we adjourn to a more... secluded space?"

"Most certainly!"

Rarity stood, her hoof still in his grip. It was not fitting for a princess to fly unless absolutely necessary, and she would not let this electric energy between their hooves break for any—

Sweetie Belle?

There was no mistaking it. That was her little sister, darting around behind the farmhouse... and Big Macintosh was with her?!

A low growl formed in the back of her throat. Her sister gallivanting around and somehow ending up here of all places wasn't entirely surprising, but that filly was going to be in big trouble. But not nearly as big of trouble as whichever stallion was Big Macintosh right now! If she ever found out who he really was, she'd string him up by his—

"Excuse me?" Zephyr Breeze spoke again. "Miss, are you alright?"

"I... I'm feeling a little ill, and... I... I need to go."

"B-but..."

"Please understand that I do like you intensely and I desire to further our relations. If you wish to meet after tonight, go purchase a forest green vest and yellow bowtie from Carousel Boutique and meet me at noon tomorrow by the fountain in the square. I will know you by your attire."

The stallion stared wistfully as Princess Twilight Sparkle - whom he had been so close to laying with - flew away. The poor mare was so incredibly aroused that it was visibly evident in her loins even from his seat as she quickly fluttered away. She had seemed quite sure of herself, and everything had been going quite well. What could have flustered her so badly?

Pinkie Pie led Apple Bloom into the house and stopped at the top of the stairs to the cellar. "Okay, so... you need to stay out of sight, do you understand?"

Apple Bloom nodded Big Macintosh's huge head - Pinkie couldn’t help but note it was so much bigger from this perspective. "

Yeah..." he whispered. "How long do I stay down there?"

"Until you're back to yourself. It will take several hours, so I'll go get you some blankets and some pillows. You fillies all need to lay low until we have this figured out."

Blossomforth and Princess Cadance both approached from the front of the house. "Speaking of fillies," Blossomforth said, "Where are your friends?"

The stallion perked up. "They're, uh... they should still be at Sweetie Belle's place."

"I'm going to go check on them, then.” The white pegasus fluttered away, grumbling under her breath. "'We don't need the perimeter field, Twilight, we've solved all the problems from last year'... yeah, eat my back hoof, Starlight..."

Cadance stepped forward–one of the few ponies who could actually look Big Mac, and by extension, Apple Bloom, in the eye. "Twilight explained to me everything she knows so far. I don't rightly know what got into y'all, but you're going to be in big trouble once this is all over."

Apple Bloom knew that expression and those words, even if it wasn't the same voice. "Ah'm sorry, Applejack. We didn't know it would cause so many problems."

Cadance nodded toward the stairs. "Go on with you. Git."

Apple Bloom tucked her tail between her legs and slowly plodded down the stairs to the cellar. The staircase turned to the left and flattened out for several paces before a wooden door marked the cellar entrance. Apple Bloom stopped at the corner, with the door the only thing separating her from her soon-to-be temporary prison.

She turned back to the top of the stairs. "I'm sorry, Applejack, I won't do it again."

"You've ruined Granny's party, Apple Bloom. Go on and git. And don't forget to apologize to her."

Apple Bloom turned once more to the wooden door and pushed it aside.

Above, Cadance's hooves tapped against the wooden floor, followed by the sound of a door opening and slamming shut with a loud bang. Applejack was livid. Apple Bloom hoped it was just that her sister couldn't control Cadance's magic that well and slammed the door on accident, but she knew it was wishful thinking.

Granny Smith was suffering. Not in the sense that she usually did, with aches and pains throughout her entire body, but instead with the burning heat of a teenage virgin.

Normally, the throes of heat was one of the most welcome parts of these parties, as there was no shortage of stallions ready and able to slake her thirst. Like most of the Apple family, she was a sex fiend with a nearly insatiable drive. It was how their extended family had ended up as large as it was, after all.

Now she was sitting on her haunches, leaning against a cask of cider and grinding Apple Bloom's aching cunny against the cold stone floor of the cellar.

Grind as she might, it wasn't helping to ease the burning desire within. Biting her lip, she let her hoof slip down lower toward her wanting nub, brushing lightly against her clit. The sudden jolt caused her to gasp and pull away her hooves in shame.

She stared at the ceiling, where a single lantern provided the sole illumination for the tiny chamber, watching the shadows dance about, and tried to lose herself in thought.

It wasn't that she was concerned about Apple Bloom's purity, per se; she had once walked in on the poor filly pleasuring herself with her hooves. But she was uncertain exactly how far the young filly had gone, and was desperately trying to respect that. She also knew it was just plain wrong to touch her granddaughter in such a way.

But the hormones. Her judgment was getting clouded, and she could feel herself getting emotional about it, too. The urges combined with the guilt she was feeling about them nearly brought her to tears. This body wasn't hers to—

The old, wooden cellar door swung inward. Granny Smith froze, hoof still at her groin, as the big red head of her grandson turned to look straight at her. His eyes went wide.

"What?" he blurted.

In a sudden panic, Granny scrambled to make herself presentable, but with her very obviously moistened nethers and the strand of sticky marecum stretching to her hoof, it was plainly obvious what she'd just been doing.

"You're... me?" he said, seemingly more shocked by the appearance of her body than the actions it was taking.

"Shut the door," Granny bellowed. It was a habit; one that she'd developed from many years of being a mother and grandmother. In her youthful body, the volume was significantly higher than she'd intended, and the sound rebounding in the tiny cellar rang her own ears painfully.

Big Macintosh covered his ears and cringed, kicking the door closed with his back hoof.

"Sorry 'bout that," Granny mumbled sheepishly. "Not used to this."

Big Macintosh nodded, sitting on his haunches and looking around the cellar - and pointedly not looking at Granny herself.

"Everything's so small," he mumbled.

"You're little Apple Bloom, aren't you?" Granny asked aloud.

The red stallion just nodded, still gazing around.

"You're Granny, aren't you?"

Granny nodded.

"Granny!" Big Macintosh's eyes filled with tears. "Granny, I'm so sorry, I ruined everything."

"Granny, I'm so sorry, I ruined everything."

The big red stallion in the tuxedo before her was slumped over a table, crying into his hooves.

Granny peered around them. Up until only minutes before, it had been a lavishly decorated wedding venue. Now, it was simply the charred husk of a chapel that had nearly gone up in flames.

Several inches of water pooled at her hooves, soaking the recently-smoldering train of her dress, and slowly seeping up to her flank. "This was supposed to be your day, Granny," he sobbed. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Wine," she whispered, throwing her hooves gently around his neck and pressing in close. "It's okay. I love you. We'll get through this." Her swollen belly pressed against him, reminding her of the reason they were together. "We'll get through this together."

Those words sent a chill down Granny's spine. "It's okay, Apple Bloom," she said, pulling her grandchild close. "It's okay. I love you. We'll get through this." Tears formed in her eyes as she spoke, her escalated hormonal state kicking in. In spite of the comforting words, her mind was in conflict at the sudden recollection of one of the most important moments in her life. “We’ll get through this together.”

Why does he have to look so much like Winesap?

That night of her wedding had been the most intense rutting she'd ever received in her life, and here she was, locked in a room with a stallion that looked exactly like him, and dealing with an estrus the intensity of which she hadn't felt in nearly a century. And his monstrously stiff erection rubbing against her was not helping.

She was no child. She could control herself. But there was so much shame. Shame that she would ever think about her late husband while with another stallion. Shame that she was even remotely having these thoughts about her own flesh and blood grandchild. And shame that she, even momentarily, had touched her grandchild inappropriately, no matter how bizarre the circumstances that led to it. And shame that, in spite of it all, she still wanted to do more.