Sitting against the hard oak chair Applejack slowly breathed in as she felt her vision go black. Twilight had assured her it was perfectly safe to use magic to do this and that she would get it back. Somehow she felt a tinge of worry, despite her trust in Twilight's abilities. For many reasons she couldn't help but dislike magic.
Next her hearing went completely, cutting her off into a black void of a world, where nothing and nopony existed. Lastly her sense of smell was gone, closing off her last vestige of familiarity. All that was left to her was her touch and taste.
Compensating, her body fed her a rush of new information. Feeling the wood grain against her back, her hooves aware of every little hair on her body, and every change in temperature, however slight, was made plain to her. Dragging her tongue over the roof of her mouth, she could discern every bump and even taste the apples everypony she'd ever kissed had remarked on tasting. Twilight was shaking her, obviously testing to see if it had worked. When she was satisfied with the results, she gave Applejack a light tap. The game could begin.
It was simple, and of course, a product of Rarity's overactive mind. All Applejack had to do was guess which pony was kissing her, based solely upon the touch and taste of their lips and possibly tongue. Never one to back away from a challenge, Applejack had accepted immediately. Now, here she was. Although, despite that she would never admit it to herself, there was another reason she had agreed. She figured it would be easy, after all her friends were so quirky and distinguishable there was no way she could be wrong.
At first she was right. The first set of lips was thrust at her and before her mouth even opened to take in the other pony's tongue, the overwhelming taste of sugar engulfed her. It filled her two remaining senses and heightened them even further. It was as though she had swallowed a bowl of sugar in one gulp. Every bump and every pore of the other pony's tongue brushed against her in a passionate dance. Then it switched to rubbing along the roof of her mouth and she moaned in pure, sweet ecstasy. The pony laughed in her mouth, and she tried to swallow, and ended up giggling as well, feeling high as a kite.
Just as suddenly as the mouth came, it went. The feelings packed up their bags and followed, and as always, what goes up must come down. Crashing down. The moment the lips of the other pony left her's Applejack crashed, hard, and felt a deep, reverberating gloom spreading through her.
"Pinkie Pie," she guessed, trying to sound nonchalant and happy.
The tap from Twilight confirmed she was right, as obvious as it was. And the game continued.
The next set of lips to come against her's, were more careful and tactful, and in fact she felt the heat of the pony's breath upon her face long before she felt her lips. The lips were soft and probing, and at first Applejack couldn't tell who it was. A feeling of momentary panic filled her breast at the thought of not knowing, especially after she had been so sure. It was dashed relatively quickly. The tongue that entered hers was unexperienced, but not hesitant and explored her mouth like it was a foreign land just waiting to be conquered. There was an unknown, subtle taste, to the pony's mouth, that started off weak and then became strong. It was a taste that Applejack knew well, although she didn't like it. On a dare in her formative years she had been asked to lick a book, by her brother, and stubborn, foolish pride would not let her refuse. So she learned what a book tasted like. It was disgusting. And a taste she'd never forget.
It was strange to think that she was tasting the musty, papery scent of wood and books, and a spot of ink mixed in there as well. As the lips left her she could only wonder at how long one must spend studying to really begin to taste like a library. It also pleased her to know, that her mood was back to being pleasantly indifferent.
"Twilight," she answered, once again easily.
This time the tap of confirmation was a little harder. Almost bitter, she would say.
The next pony was almost too easy. It was one thing to ask anypony else to kiss different or act differently for the purpose of winning a game, but the shyest of all the group was one pony that, thankfully wasn't going to change, even for a game.
The kiss was quick and fast, barely even a kiss at all, with no tongue. Regardless, Applejack still managed to get the taste of freshly cut grass and strawberries to mix pleasantly in her mouth.
Despite the short length to the kiss, it left her happy, as most anything the pony could do did.
"Fluttershy," she practically buzzed, not even giving the shy pony time to get fully away. A tremor rippled through the ground and she thought it meant that the shy pegasus had fainted. Onto the next pony she told herself.
Since there were only two left, it was obvious who the next one was. The pony came at her like a bullet, not even slowing for a second as her tongue forced its way inside her mouth. The sensations came one after another as both ponies fought for dominance. Both seemed to enjoy it. First it was the sky after a storm, then cinnamon, first a touch, but growing, quickly to the point where it was almost overwhelming. Kind of like that cinnamon challenge frat colts always inflict upon themselves Applejack thought to herself. Before it became too overwhelming the taste changed to something surprisingly fruity, at first citrusy and then changing at once to the bitter taste of a Red Delicious.
The tongue in her mouth was forceful, and it was with a pang of regret that it left.
"Rainbow Dash," she spoke, pulling out the words and nearly bragging.
Which left only one pony. The last round of the game.
The name left Applejack's brain the moment those soft lips touched her's. To say it assaulted her remaining senses would be an understatement. No, it robbed those senses, dragged them to an alley, assaulted them and left them there to rot. And Applejack enjoyed every minute.
The taste was the subtlest of all. A plain vanilla, but better than any kind she'd ever tasted. It seemed as if there was so much hidden there. The taste beckoned her, coaxed her forward, and she slipped her tongue slowly and easily inside of the pony's mouth. It was a surprisingly gentle move for the rough and tumble cowpony, but it was all she could do, considering how long she had wanted this. Both of them moved together slow and sensually, the other pony breathing into her mouth. It wasn't until then, that Applejack realized the other pony was moaning and enjoying this as much as she was. Allowing herself to fall out of rationality and into the crazy place where mares in love went, she slowly dragged her tongue across the roof of the other pony's mouth.
The other pony separated all too quickly, allowing rational thought to return to her. Reaching blindly forward Applejack practically leaped off the chair and after the retreating pony, pulling their lips back together. When the other pony mimicked the gesture and didn't pull away she took it as a yes and pressed her tongue hard into her mouth.
Their second kiss was much more passionate, and Applejack was sure their friends were staring at them awkwardly as they made out on the floor, but she didn't care. There was something about the pony she was kissing that still lay out of reach, something undiscovered and mysterious. She wanted, needed to know what it was, to have the taste, the feel of her tongue forever in her mouth.
When the two of them finally broke for oxygen and some of Applejack's senses returned she managed to utter the only word she held any thought for:
"Rarity."
