Cloacajack

by Math Spook

Rating: mature
Tags: Anthology, Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Random
Length: 7495

Applejack has a cloaca. It's not as bad as you think; it's worse.

Applejack has a cloaca. An enormous, supernatural cloaca that fits just about anything. You can even sleep in it (the bed is near the library).

This anthology resembles comedy. But no matter how low your expectations are, you will be disappointed. The stories are more dumb, gross, and juvenile than you could possibly imagine. You will want to stop reading, but it will be too late. Applejack's cloaca is not just a time-wasting crude joke. It will defile your mind, blight your soul, and eject your lunch. But today is April Fools' Day; you have been warned!

The stories arose from a thread on 4chan's /mlp/ now archived at https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/40679130. In #40679923, someone made a typo, writing "AJ's cloest" for "AJ's closet." In #40679923, someone else posted that they misread the typo as "AJ's cloaca." With that, a meme was born.

I am neither the first nor the only person to have written stories about Applejack having a cloaca, but this anthology collects only my own work. I have reordered the stories, added titles, and edited for typos and style. Otherwise, they are as originally posted. The last three are new. I called them bonuses; but you should know by now that you can't trust my judgment!

The publication of these stories on Fimfic coincides with Operation Crackfic Storm 2024. See the submissions folder for more stories of dubious quality.

Content warnings:

Bedtime: Second person, Anon, interrupted sleep

Moving Day: Second person, Anon, non-consensual personal transportation

Snowstorm: Failed leadership skills

Room at the Inn: Blasphemy, Ikea

Inspection: Feeling embarrassed at school

Striptease: Second person, not understanding the obvious

Weaponized: Implied global warming

The Call of Apphulhu: First person, cosmic horror, purple prose

Punishment: Short-tempered parenting

Infection: Implied consensual displays of affection, gardening

Ingredients: Party games

Meme: Self-reference

Parking Lot: Improper parliamentary procedure

Waterspout: Drug use, unrealistic engineering

Tentacle Monster: Self-entitled behavior, bad acting

Added 2024-04-06: The author of the first Cloacajack greentext has asked for his story to be added here. It is now available as an extra chapter, "The first Cloacajack story."

Published 2024-04-01 13:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2024-04-06 20:26:32 UTC

Bedtime

"Ready for bed?" AJ asks.

You nod. You've already taken off your dress shoes and socks, and you've donned your pajamas. Once you put a foot inside AJ's cloaca, her muscles begin to draw you in. Your left arm gets tangled in her tail, but you pull out a little, reposition, and dive forward.

The inside of her cloaca is damp and, as always, smells like apples. You look around, past the plush carpet-like floor, past the shelves filled with apple emoji books, past the upholstered easy chair. Tucked in a corner near some well-toned muscle fibers is a wooden bed.

A muffled voice calls, "Ah put out clean sheets fer you!" On top of the bed, there's a stack of linen, off-white but tending towards orange. You tuck the fitted sheet over the bed, straighten the blanket, fluff the pillow, and climb in.

Most cloacas you've slept in have lumpy beds, so the softness and supportiveness of AJ's cloaca bed is a pleasant surprise. It's been a long day, so you drop right off to sleep.

Late that night, you awake from a painful pressure in your abdomen. It's your bladder. You won't be able to get back to bed like this. You need to pee, and soon.

You rub your eyes and sit up. At first, your sleep-addled brain isn't sure where you are. When your feet touch the moist, squishy floor, you remember. You're in AJ's cloaca. Which is, among other things, a cloaca.

With a pleasant sigh, you stand up and drop your pajama pants. You point away from the bed, but not in any particular direction. Your stream patters against the floor of the cloaca. AJ will take care of it in the morning. She always keeps herself clean.

You shake yourself dry and replace your pajama bottoms. Your bed is still warm, and you sleep soundly the rest of the night. AJ's cloaca is a truly marvelous experience.

Weaponized

Another timberwolf howled. "There must be at least two dozen," said Fluttershy. "Maybe more."

Leaves crackled under magical wooden paws. "Oh, I do wish we weren't in the Everfree Forest right now!" cried Rarity. "How do we stop them all?"

"We have to burn them," said Twilight Sparkle. "Every branch and twig."

Rainbow Dash said, "Hello? Where are we gonna get that much fire?"

"Twilight'll just use her magic!" said Pinkie Pie. "Because everything is possible with magic!"

"Not this time," said Twilight. "If they come at us from both sides at once, they could catch us before I can stop them. We need another fire weapon."

"Ah can make one," said Applejack. "Rarity, take this." She grabbed a dry branch in her mouth and gave it to Rarity. "Twilight, you light it on fire. Pinkie, you tie my tail up."

"How is that supposed to help?" asked Rarity.

"When you see a timberwolf, hold the lit end near my cloaca."

"But I don't want anything to do with your cloaca! And how is it supposed to save us, anyway?"

"You know how much gas ungulates like us pass every day? Well, Ah don't. Ah just keep it in my cloaca 'till Ah'm alone." The bushes around them rustled. "Get ready!"

Two timberwolves leaped toward Twilight. Two blasts from her horn shattered them into piles of sticks. As she focused her energy on burning the sticks, a timberwolf jumped out of the bushes. Fluttershy screamed.

Applejack aimed her rump. "Rarity! Now!"

Rarity shut her eyes and telekinetically levitated the brand towards Applejack's cloaca. "This is gross, gross, gross, gross!" A gout of fire sprang from Applejack's rump, engulfing the timberwolf and disintegrating it in moments.

Minutes later, Twilight and Applejack had vanquished all the timberwolves. "There's one thing I don't get," said Twilight. "Why do you keep your gas in your cloaca? Why not just pass it like the rest of us?"

"You remember the Apple family reunion? The one we was havin' when you first got to Ponyville? And you remember the smell?"

"You all work on farms. I thought farm smells just kinda followed you around."

"Nope. It's all those hearty meals of hay and alfalfa. Good country cookin', not like what you city folks eat."

"How bad can it really be?" asked Rainbow Dash.

Applejack smirked. Moments later, Rainbow Dash regretted her question.

Bonus: Parking Lot

Mayor Mare banged her gavel. "The town council is now in session. First order of business: The marketplace gets overcrowded with carts on market day. The proposal on the floor is to use Applejack's cloaca as a parking lot. I'm required to allow public comment, but I don't have to listen."

Pinkie Pie stepped forward. "Uh, hi. This is a really terrible idea because it's unfair to Applejack. So I think that if the marketplace is too crowded, we should just limit the number of carts that are allowed in."

Mayor Mare banged her gavel. "Out of order! New proposals need to be moved and seconded. Besides, limiting the number of carts would stifle our economic development."

"You can't just turn her into a parking lot!"

"Time's up! Who's next?"

Rainbow Dash stood before the council. "We could have a cart valet service. The town could hire ponies to move carts in and out of the marketplace."

Mayor Mare yawned. "No, valets are for the rich. My constituents don't like the rich. No offense," she said, nodding towards Filthy Rich, who was vice chair of the council.

"None taken," he said.

Rainbow Dash said, "But you want economic development, and a valet service would create jobs!"

Mayor Mare banged her gavel. "Out of order! The motion on the floor is still the use of Applejack's cloaca as a parking lot. Next!"

Twilight Sparkle said, "The town could build a parking garage. We could—"

"No space," said Mayor Mare.

"—buy some of the buildings—"

"Too expensive!" shouted Mayor Mare.

"Those are my most lucrative properties," said Filthy Rich.

Twilight Sparkle continued, "—by issuing bonds now and repaying them using property taxes and parking fees!"

Mayor Mare banged her gavel again. "You're all out of order! That's enough discussion. It's time for the council to vote." She pulled out stacks of bits from her saddlebags. "I assume the usual fee is enough?"

Rarity mumbled, "How can anyone bribe Filthy Rich when he already has more bits than everyone else put together?"

"I don't do it for the bits. I do it for the principle," Filthy Rich said as he snatched one of the stacks.

The vote was unanimously in favor of using Applejack's cloaca as a parking garage. Applejack said, "Now just one apple-pickin' minute! Ah never agreed to let everyone use my cloaca as a parkin' garage! And Ah don' want it used as a parkin' garage! Ah don' care how many resolutions y'all pass, Ah ain't gonna cooperate!"

Mayor Mare said, "I move to enact a special property tax rate of 99% on Sweet Apple Acres."

"That's thievery!"

Mayor Mare withdrew more stacks of bits from her saddlebags. Filthy Rich said, "Seconded."

From that day on, Applejack trudged to town every market day so that her cloaca could be used as a parking lot. The popularity of Applejack's cloaca got Mayor Mare re-elected. The town council embezzled the parking fees, so Filthy Rich got even filthy richer. Everyone but Applejack lived happily economically ever after.

Moving Day

You've lived in a studio apartment since you moved to Equestria, and you're excited to upgrade. You're scrambling to pack when the movers arrive.

"Howdy," Applejack says. "Ready to move?"

When you hired Apple Family Movers, you expected a crowd of earth ponies. You look up and down the street. "Just the two of you?"

"Eeyup," says Big Mac.

"No cart or wagon or anything?"

"Nnnope."

"Uh, well, okay then. Come on in."

Applejack surveys the boxes. "'Bout what Ah expected," she says. "This all?"

"Two more boxes to go."

"Then we'll get started here while ya finish up."

You return to your kitchenette and continue loading cookware into boxes. You can't see the movers from where you're squatting, but you hear a sucking noise, like something large being pulled into a small space. It's a peculiar noise that you think you've never heard before.

You tape your last boxes shut. "Finished!" you call with relief. "Last two boxes are ready."

When you stand, you see Applejack's behind up against one of your moving boxes. On the other side of the box, Big Mac pushes it into her with his head. There's another sucking noise, and the box disappears into Applejack.

You scratch your head. "Where'd the box go?"

"Where'd it look like it went?" asks Applejack.

"There's not really a polite way to say this but—up your ass?"

Applejack rolls her eyes. "No, it's in my cloaca. We're loadin' the boxes into my cloaca."

"Um, I don't know what that means." Which is half true. You know what a cloaca is, but you've never heard of putting boxes in one.

"A cloaca is just about the most useful part of a mare's body!" she says. "Well, mine at least. Ain't many of us that have one. Want a peek inside?"

Your heart races. "I'm not sure that—"

"In fact, how 'bout Ah give you a ride to your new place? Big Mac, buck him."

You shout, "Nonononono—" but Big Mac bucks you at Applejack. Her cloaca swells. It reaches towards you, prehensile and greedy. As it folds itself around you, you scream.

Inside, after your eyes adjust, you see stacks of cardboard boxes. From the writing on them, you know they're yours. Suddenly another pair of boxes appears behind you. Applejack's muffled voice says, "We're all set!"

The floor rolls under you like a ship at sea. You try to steady yourself using one of the stacks, but it topples and you fall to the floor. "I want out of here!" you yell.

Applejack says, "You like it in there? Shucks, my cloaca ain't that special."

Eventually the motion stops. The walls of the cloaca pulse. A bright light appears, and you're expelled into your new apartment.

Applejack expels your boxes into your new living room in neat stacks. She asks, "Whad'ya think? How was the ride?"

You lie trembling on the floor, clutching the ground in terror. "I am not paying for this," you gasp.

Big Mac looms over you. His muzzle fills your vision, and his breath is hot against your face. He says nothing.

"Changed my mind," you say. "You deserve a big tip."

Snowstorm

Rarity admitted that the twinkling stars were gorgeous. The sky looked full of gemstones. She hadn't enjoyed hiking up the mountain, but for now, she could lie in her sleeping bag and admire the heavens. "This was a marvelous idea," she said.

Twilight said, "I need to take my telescope up here."

"It's like you could scoop up the stars and crunch them in your mouth," said Pinkie Pie. "Like bits of hard candy. Or shards of glass."

"Ah hope it's not cold tonight," said Applejack. "This high up, you can get freak storms."

"I'll just kick 'em," said Rainbow Dash, yawning. "G'night."

They were asleep when the blizzard struck. Fluttershy woke first. "Excuse me? Everypony? I think we're in trouble," she whispered. Nopony heard her over the roaring storm.

When Pinkie Pie woke, she made such a show out of chattering her teeth that everyone was awake in moments. Twilight, exercising her well-developed leadership skills, shouted, "I have an idea! Rainbow Dash, kick the storm away!"

"That was my idea!"

Rarity called, "You know how she is! Let it go!"

"I don't want her to think she's better than us! What will she do next, turn into a princess?"

"I don't care what she's going to say! Are you just going to let the storm rage on? Or doesn't the cold bother you, anyway?"

Rainbow Dash flew into the clouds and kicked furiously. A gust of wind threw her back down to the mountain. "It's too strong!" she yelled. "Twilight, can you use your magic?"

"I have a new plan!" said Twilight. "I'll use my magic!" Her horn glowed, and a magical shield enveloped the ponies.

"Whew," said Rarity. "I'm glad that's over."

"Only as long as I keep up this shield," said Twilight.

"A storm like this could last all night," said Rainbow Dash.

Fluttershy whispered, "We could shelter behind that boulder over there."

Twilight said, "I've got a new idea! We'll shelter behind that boulder over there." Four ponies looked at Fluttershy. She shrugged.

The six ponies moved to the lee of the boulder. "But what now?" asked Rarity as she watched snow pile against the shield.

"Ah got a plan," said Applejack. "Three layers of sleepin' bags oughtta be enough."

"Oh, like a blanket fort!" said Pinkie Pie. "Sharing is both caring and survival!"

"Ain't enough room that way. Y'all need to get into my cloaca."

"What?" asked four other ponies.

Twilight said, "New plan! Applejack will get under three layers of sleeping bags and the rest of us will sleep in—wait, what?"

"In my cloaca. Stop wastin' time an' help me out."

Applejack zipped two pairs of sleeping bags together. She stuffed her own sleeping bag in one pair and that pair inside the other pair. The other ponies jumped into her cloaca. Twilight went last. As soon as she was inside, the shield went down. Applejack got inside the inmost sleeping bag and used the last sleeping bag as a hood. She felt warm all night long. It was a warmth of profound satisfaction; of knowing that she was keeping her friends safe in her cloaca.

Room at the Inn

The travelers were tired and footsore when they reached the inn. The woman, who was pregnant, groaned as she eased herself to the floor. The man, whose clothes suggested he was a tradesman, perhaps a carpenter, spoke with the innkeeper. "I have no room," said the innkeeper. "I'm full because of the census."

"We've been traveling for days," said the man. "Is there nowhere we could shelter?"

"Even my stable is full," said the innkeeper.

"My wife will give birth soon, and our travel has been hard. We would accept even the humblest, most lowly accommodations."

"Really? Then come with me."

The woman, who was barely a teenager, groaned again as her husband helped her to her feet. The innkeeper led them to the stable. The man asked, "I thought you said there was no room even in your stable?"

"I did." The innkeeper stopped behind an orange mare with a blonde mane. "It is good that you have no shoes. She doesn't like people wearing shoes inside her."

"Inside her?" asked the man. "Do you mean—?"

"Yes, I do." The innkeeper whisked aside the mare's tail. "There is room in her cloaca."

The man looked to his wife, who nodded. He began negotiating the price. The woman, too tired to sit on the floor again and too tired to keep standing, entered the mare. The cloaca was richly decorated. The floor felt like a squishy rug, and the woman sighed with pleasure as she wiggled her aching toes. There were shelves of codexes, though when she took one down and inspected it, the manuscript was illuminated entirely with pictures of apples. She sank into a chair made of acacia wood and rested.

Soon after her husband joined her, she felt birth pangs. She began pacing to lessen the pain. He asked, "Shall I fetch a midwife?"

She shook her head. "The baby is coming too quickly."

A muffled voice called out, "Ah can git ya there if ya want!"

The voice was so unexpected that the woman's womb stopped, afraid to let her baby out. Her husband called back, "Who's there?"

"Name's Applejack! And yer in my cloaca!"

"You're the mare?" asked the woman.

"Yep! Who're y'all?"

"I am Joseph," said the man, "and my wife is Mary."

"Funny names," said Applejack. "Don' seem to mean anythin'. Anyway, y'all want a midwife? Ah don' really like to break outta my stall, but Ah done it before."

The birth pangs rose in Mary again. She squeezed her eyes shut and hissed through her teeth. When the contraction was over, she said, "Applejack? Have you ever borne a child?"

"Yep! Was a bit embarrassin', seein' as my brother's the father. We just pretend she's our little sister."

"Can you—will you—talk me through it?"

"Sure can, sugarcube!"

So Applejack helped Mary give birth to a son. They had no crib, and Ikea wasn't open that late, so Joseph put the manger from the stable inside Applejack's cloaca, and Mary laid the infant in it. Soon shepherds arrived in the stable seeking the Messiah. And because of what they saw in Applejack's cloaca, they left glorifying and praising God.

Inspection

be filly

today is vagina inspection day at school

colts were all freaked out by penis inspection day last week

one of them failed and hasn't been seen since

nopony knows what happened to him

teacher has all the fillies line up facing the wall

nopony likes this

except that slutty white cunt with the purple mane

just want to get this over with

at least it's a mare doing the inspections

next to me is an orange filly I don't really know

one of the Apples I think

she seems especially nervous

redneck probably forgot to wash

redneck might not even know how to wash

nurse reaches the orange filly, checks her clipboard

"Let's see. Applejack. Yes. It's your turn, Miss Applejack. Please raise your tail."

orange filly gulps, doesn't raise her tail

"It's okay to be nervous. Please go ahead, Miss Applejack."

orange filly literally shaking

"Miss Applejack. I need you to raise your tail."

totalfreakout.jpg

"Miss Applejack, if you do not raise your tail then I have to fail you."

orange filly raises her tail

nurse screams and faints

hits her head on the floor

out cold

inspections canceled

I never get inspected

make friends with orange filly

she gets us out of vagina inspection day every time

Striptease

You're an earth pony looking for some action. It's late, but Ponyville's red light district is still awake.

A neon sign flashes, "NUDE MARES!" Which should mean nothing, because most mares are nude most of the time, but everyone except fillies and colts knows what it really means. Beneath the sign, a hand-made poster says, "ONE NIGHT ONLY! APPLEJACK THE ONE-HOLED WONDER!"

One-holed wonder? You don't know what that means, but it must be hot or else she wouldn't be performing at a place like this. Plus, it's Applejack. You've seen her selling apples in the market, and you'd sure like a piece of her ass.

You pay the cover charge and enter the club. Cheerilee is dancing on stage, trying to earn money for school supplies that Mayor Mare won't budget for and the PTA can't afford. You order a drink at the bar and wait for the main act.

The lights dim. A voice announces, "Gentlestallions and not-so-gentle stallions! Put your hooves together for tonight's special guest, a mare of unique attributes, Applejack the one-holed wonder!"

The crowd cheers. You wonder again what "one-holed wonder" means, but when Applejack enters and begins to dance, your questions melt away.

Applejack is wearing a low-cut red dress. She steps and prances here and there. After a while she rolls her left shoulder out of the dress. She continues dancing, one strap dangling on the ground. Soon she rolls her right shoulder out of the dress. She holds the dress tight to her body with one hoof as she hides her body behind the curtain and grins towards the audience. A moment later, the dress comes flying out, and the crowd goes wild.

Applejack is now dancing nude, shaking her rump in time to the music. The orange mare's ass is hypnotic. Suddenly she stops, facing away from the audience. The audience grows quiet. She swishes her tail a little to one side, but not far enough to let you glimpse the sexiness underneath. Her blonde tail swishes left, then right, back and forth, moving in circles in time to the music.

Applejack stops again. She peeks back at the audience and yells, "Are ya ready?" The crowd yells back, "Yes!" Your cock has completely left its sheath now. Applejack shakes her rump up and down. With each shake, her tail goes higher and higher. Then, with a little hop, she flicks her tail up and to the side.

The crowd of stallions hoots and claps. At the same time, your cock slips back into its sheath. You whisper, "What in the actual fuck...?" The meaning of "one-holed wonder" is suddenly clear. Applejack doesn't have a pussy and a ponut. She has a cloaca.

As you slink out of the club, the bouncer chuckles at you. "Some filly got you on a leash or something? She's just getting to the good stuff." You duck your head and pretend you didn't hear him. Your night out is over.

The Call of Apphulhu

As a tenured professor of agricultural sciences at Miskatonic University, I had no reason to concern myself with obvious humbug. When I found, in a corner of the library, a handwritten manuscript marked, "APPHULHU CULT," I read but a few paragraphs before returning it to the mouldering stack whence it came. That night, however, I had nightmares of lightning strikes and rainbow-streaked apples. The next day, I returned to the library. The manuscript detailed a depraved cult that worshiped a being named Apphulhu, an otherworldly evil who would arrive after Five Signs. That sleepless night, the nightmares were augmented by a malicious and horrifying susurration, "Apphulhu ftagn." In the morning, I resolved to seek out the source of my terror in the hope of conquering it.

I sought the ancient city of P'nyveh described in the manuscript. I had inferred from the manuscript that P'nyveh was near the Everfree Forest. The first sign was the howl of timberwolves. The light of blue sparks, the second sign, guided me to an apple orchard. There I camped and waited. The sky turned ominous and cloudy at the appearance of the third sign, crows and flowers. That night was the fourth sign, a shower of meteors so violent that the heavens seemed to be torn asunder by monstrous claws. The sky threatened to crash down and extinguish all life that was or ever would be. The nightmare came again, now with images of apple ichor oozing from fruits of outlandish colors. I began to doubt my faculties. I had come here, alone, to face supernatural forces bent on my destruction. It was foolishness. Yet as fearful as I was, I was unable to resolve to leave the orchard. I shuddered at the thought that my mind had perhaps been already affected by those forces and that my will was no longer fully my own.

When I woke, I knew that it should have been morning, but clouds smothered the sky so deeply that the sun seemed to have been annihilated. That day was as black and cold as night, and I sat by my campfire, shivering and shuddering as I waited. Lightning struck over the orchard, and sparks darted among the trees. The fifth sign. I took a firebrand with me as I began my search. I found an enormous red-painted wooden building. At a distance, it gave me the impression of a barn, yet as I approached, no side seemed to have a definite shape. The extent of each wall seemed to vary as I studied it, and the angles at which the walls met seemed to change from point to point. One side had a door, recognizable as such from its jambs and lintels, but I could not tell whether it was upright like an entrance or laid flat like a trapdoor. I touched the door's clammy surface, and it gave way.

An intolerable odor rose from the depths of the barn, and a great orange thing shambled out. It was a tangle of legs and hooves, topped with a blond mane, and ending in a single great hole in its backside. I, frozen in panic, could not move from my spot. The thing scooped me up in a massive hoof and inserted me into its hole.

Inside the thing's cloaca was a book bound in pony skin. This, the manuscript had said, would be the Necroponicon. In it I would find either freedom or destruction. I opened the book. The horror! Page after page of apples, hideously arrayed in eldritch and unnatural designs!

In that moment my senses left me. I know not what happened in my remaining time in the creature's cloaca. After a time, I became conscious that I was gibbering. The visions dissipated enough for me to know that I was in the apple orchard again, and with effort, I was able to crawl to civilization. Yet I have not been able to resume my university post or rejoin my former society. I am confined to a sanitarium, for the visions take me frequently. In my few lucid moments I have written this warning. But I know not whether I do so of my own will or whether I am still under the control of Apphulhu. If the latter, then I pray my wardens will destroy this manuscript without reading it.

Punishment

A yellow blur sprinted across the Apple family kitchen. Applejack jerked herself out of the way, and the fritter in her hooves nearly fell. "Slow down!" she yelled.

"Playing tag! Sorry!" called the blur.

Applejack held the fritter firmly until an orange blur sprinted across her path. "Fillies," she muttered, shaking her head.

Later, Applejack was bucking trees in the orchard when a clattering and squeaking noise made her stop. Streaking down the hill was a boxcar made of discarded lumber, mismatched wheels, and an ungreased axle.

The white filly was driving. She yelled, "How do I stop?"

The orange filly said, "You don't! We forgot brakes!"

The yellow filly shouted, "Go off the road! That should slow us down!"

The white filly jerked the steering wheel, and the boxcar lurched into the orchard. Applejack leaped out of its way. It collided with a tree and shattered, throwing the fillies to the ground. Apples tumbled down on their heads.

Applejack said, "Fillies! Y'all gotta be more careful!"

"We're sorry," chorused the fillies.

That evening, while Applejack was stacking barrels of apples in the barn, a beam over her head creaked. She heard giggling. "Celestia only knows what they're up to now," she said.

A yellow filly wearing a blanket as a cape flew out of the loft. "Sneak attack!" she yelled. Behind her, two more fillies wearing blanket capes flew out. All three landed on Applejack, who was knocked to the floor of the barn.

Applejack stood up and shook dirt off. "Fillies! Y'all have been doin' this all day, an' Ah have had enough!"

The fillies lined up in front of her. "You didn't like it?" whimpered the yellow filly.

"No! Ah don' like gettin' tackled!"

"But we thought it would be fun!" whined the orange filly.

Applejack's eyes narrowed. In a low, tense voice, she said, "Ah know what would be fun. How 'bout we play a game?"

The fillies' eyes sparkled. "You mean it?"

"Yes Ah do. We're gonna play hide an' seek. Are you ready to hide?"

The white filly bit her lip. "Is there something you're not telling us? Because right now you look scary."

"Only that Ah already have a hidin' place for y'all." And Applejack snatched up the fillies and stuffed them in her cloaca.

There was no light inside the cloaca. "Hello?" called a filly. Her voice echoed as if she were in a vast, empty place. She took a tentative step. The floor under her hooves felt like a shag carpet atop well-toned muscle fibers. "Where is everypony?"

The filly took another step. "Can somepony turn on the lights?" There was no answer but the echo. She stepped back. "I can't see anything." She started to step back again, into the oppressive darkness, but she shivered and stopped her hoof in midair. "That's enough! This isn't fun anymore! I'm done playing hide and seek." Again, there was no answer but the echo.

She turned all the way around. Everything was utterly black. "Is anypony here? I'm getting kinda scared." She laid down on the shag carpet and trembled. "Anypony?"

Infection

Applejack trotted down the road to Ponyville Hospital. Her cloaca was itching again. She wanted to stop on the side of the road and scratch, but she knew better. It was sore and red, and it had itched badly all week. Last night, she had realized it had an odor, and she knew then she had to see a doctor.

At the hospital, Applejack filled out a stack of forms. She waited anxiously, trying to politely soothe her itch by crossing and uncrossing her hind legs. When Nurse Redheart called her name, Applejack nearly ran into the examination room.

"What seems to be the problem?" asked Doctor Horse.

"It's my cloaca," said Applejack. "Been itchin' bad all week."

"Let me have a look." Applejack raised her tail. Doctor Horse peered at it and sniffed. "It smells like, hmm, I'd say cherries."

Applejack blushed. "Yeah. Guess it does."

"Did something happen that you need to tell me?"

"It's kinda embarrassin'. You see, Ah was in Dodge Junction last week. And Ah met up with a mare Ah know, Cherry Jubilee. And we, you see, uh, well—we kinda hugged a little. It was entirely consensual."

Doctor Horse nodded. "No need to be ashamed. Lots of ponies have ended up in your situation. You have an affectionately transmitted infection."

"A what now?"

"They're caught by unprotected snuggling and cuddling. You got it when you hugged your friend."

Applejack wriggled her legs again. "But why do Ah itch so much?"

"Because she's growing on you. Literally. And it's irritating your cloaca."

"So how do Ah stop it?"

"Well, you could get in a fight with her. But it takes a while before you feel better, and the infection could come back if you make up later. The only quick way is surgically. But, fair warning, it hurts."

Applejack closed her eyes. "Ah'm ready."

Doctor Horse grabbed a shovel and stepped into Applejack's cloaca. Inside, a forest of cherry tree saplings was beginning to grow. He set the shovel next to a sapling and began to dig.

When Doctor Horse left Applejack's cloaca, he took the cherry tree saplings with him. He told Applejack, "They're yours if you like. You can plant them."

Applejack considered the saplings. They had itched, but they were also a part of Cherry Jubilee. "Yeah," she said. "Ah think Ah'd like to try that."

Ingredients

"So what do we do at the family reunion, Applejack?" said Pinkie Pie.

"Mostly it's 'bout catchin' up with your folks. Well, this one is. Let's be glad you weren't there for the last reunion. But first we got a friendly competition to win, an' we're gonna do it together."

"Sounds like fun! But what do we do?"

Applejack smirked. "Ah'm gonna leave that as a surprise."

Braeburn spoke into a megaphone. "Okay, all you Apples. Ah done marked the field already. Line up an' get goin'! Y'all know how to play."

Pinkie Pie raised her hand. "I don't even know what game we're supposed to be playing!"

"And here Ah thought you was an Apple," Braeburn teased. "Don' worry, you'll love it."

Applejack explained, "You stand on this line an' Ah stand on the other one. You're gonna toss apples to me, an' Ah'm gonna catch 'em."

"That's it? We're playing catch?" said Pinkie Pie.

Applejack trotted to the other line. "Fun part is how we catch 'em," she said. "We call the game 'applehole.'"

Pinkie Pie looked up and down the field. Ponies on her line were already tossing apples. Ponies on the other line were catching them with their buttocks.

"So why's it called 'applehole'?"

"'Cause you ain't allowed to put down the apples after you catch 'em," said Applejack, "so the best strategy is to catch 'em in your hole. It's 'cause of my cloaca that Ah'm so good at it."

Pinkie Pie picked up an apple from a basket on the ground and tossed it. Applejack, looking over her shoulder, angled her rump towards the sky, and the apple landed right in her cloaca. Pinkie Pie tossed another. Applejack took a step forward, and with a small pop, another apple went into her cloaca. Pinkie tossed apple after apple, as fast as she could, and Applejack's cloaca caught every one.

"Now it's your turn," said Applejack, reaching into a basket of apples on the ground next to her.

"Which hole should I use?"

"Well, stallions only have the one, an' Braeburn's awful good. He stretches, though."

"What a coincidence! So do I!" Pinkie Pie pointed her rump at Applejack. "Ready!"

Pinkie Pie turned out to be a natural at applehole. Applejack had a good arm, but even when the apple went askew, Pinkie caught it every time.

When Applejack and Pinkie Pie had finished throwing all the apples in their baskets, they went to the judging station. They released all the apples they were holding inside themselves, and Braeburn counted.

"Fifty apples!" he exclaimed. "Did you really catch every single one? Pinkie, Ah got to apologize to you now. Only a real Apple could do somethin' like that."

"It's no problem," Pinkie Pie said. "But what do we do with all the apples we caught?"

"Ah guess you're still new here," Braeburn said. "So you're in for a delicious surprise! You've just started on the most flavorful apple pie you'll ever eat!"

Meme

be Anon

write Cloacajack greentext

no replies

go to ponies for support

Pinkie Pie says, "Anon, your meme is retarded."

Rainbow Dash says, "Stop trying to force it."

Rarity says, "It's disgusting and not funny."

Fluttershy says, "A pony with a cloaca is biologically impossible."

Twilight says, "Your green sucks anyway."

go to Applejack

"Truth is, Anon, most folks want comedy or porn from their greens."

I know

"You seem like you need cheerin' up. Been a rough day for me too. Wanna fuck?"

imagine my face when she really does have a cloaca

Bonus: Waterspout

The pegasi stopped whirling. The tornado dissipated, and the waterspout splashed back into the reservoir.

"Still not enough wing power, and now everypony's exhausted," complained Rainbow Dash. "We'll never get the water up to Cloudsdale."

"I'm so sorry," said Fluttershy. Ashamed, she snuck away. But soon, a determined look came over her. "Old Fluttershy would give up. But new Fluttershy is strong. New Fluttershy knows what to do!" She took off at a gallop.

Applejack said to Rainbow Dash, "Me an' Twilight been talkin', an' we got an idea."

Soon Rainbow Dash shouted, "Let's do it!" They rigged a harness for Applejack. A team of pegasi picked her up and lowered her into the reservoir. She reached her hooves behind her and stretched open her cloaca.

A small vortex formed as water began pouring into Applejack. Soon the reservoir's waterline was dropping. Applejack breathed through a tube Twilight had given her. The pegasi held her steady, keeping her cloaca beneath the surface of the water and the end of her breathing tube above. After Applejack's arms tired, the pegasi took turns diving beside her and holding her cloaca open.

It took almost an hour to empty the reservoir. Applejack, who had gotten bored, was relieved when her hooves touched the bottom. "Haul me up!" she said. The pegasi hoisted her into the air towards Cloudsdale.

Moments later, Fluttershy returned. "New Fluttershy will do anything for her friends!" She held up a little bag. "New Fluttershy will even use performance-enhancing substances!"

Twilight shouted, "Wait!" at the same time Fluttershy ripped off the top of the bag, tilted her head back, and dumped white powder down her throat.

"New Fluttershy can lift the water to Cloudsdale all by herself!"

"We have a new plan!" interrupted Twilight.

"What?" Fluttershy's cheeks flushed, and her eyes watered. She whispered, "Uh oh."

"What is this stuff?" asked Twilight. She read the label on the bag. "'Infinite Energy Nutritional Supplement. One pinch lets you do anything! Warning: Not safe under any circumstances. Do not use.'"

Fluttershy had turned the vibrant red of a ripe tomato. Her mane and coat stuck straight out, and her heart beat like a woodpecker against her ribs.

"'If consumed, inform your next-of-kin of your final wishes, and dilute with copious water.'" Fluttershy vaulted into the sky so fast that her shockwave knocked Twilight over.

The pegasi positioned Applejack over Cloudsdale's reservoir. She relaxed, and a fountain spouted from her cloaca. When Fluttershy arrived, she got right under the stream. She began chugging just as the drug overdose made her bowels evacuate themselves.

A whole lake gushed from Applejack's cloaca, into Fluttershy's mouth, out of Fluttershy's behind. By the time the reservoir was full, the water had flushed the drug out of Fluttershy and saved her life.

Spitfire was required to taste a glass of water for quality control. "Hmm," she said, smacking her lips. "Nice flavor. Delicious, actually. Kind of... I think I'd say... creamy?"

Bonus: Tentacle Monster

"A tentacle monster!" screamed Pinkie Pie. "Everypony run!"

But its tentacles were already curled around the ponies' legs. Rainbow Dash tried to fly out of their grasp, but they gripped her tight. "I can't move!"

Rarity lay untouched on the ground. She put her hoof to her forehead. "Oh no! I sure hope a tentacle monster isn't going to capture me!" she moaned. As tentacles lifted the other ponies from the ground and splayed their limbs, she said, "Ahem! I said, I sure hope a tentacle monster isn't going to capture me!"

Twilight called, "I'll get us out of this!" Her horn glowed, but tentacles whipped around it. Twilight grit her teeth and thrashed. "It's got me," she croaked. "I'm sorry!"

"Don' worry!" shouted Applejack. "Ah got a plan!"

Rarity shouted, "I am a pony, and I am right here! And I really would not like to be captured by a tentacle monster, hint, hint!" When the tentacles continued to ignore her, Rarity became indignant. "This is the kind of insult I will not stand for!" she declared, galloping around and smacking tentacles.

"Rarity, calm down and lemme take care of it!" said Applejack.

"I will not! If I don't deserve to be violated by tentacles, then nopony does!"

Applejack strained her cloaca toward a tentacle Rarity had just struck, muttering, "Ah just—gotta—get it—right—ah!—there!" as she slipped the tip inside. "Let's see what ya think of this!"

Her cloaca pulsed, jerking the tentacle inside. The monster, surprised, froze for a moment. Applejack's cloaca pulsed again and sucked in the tentacle almost to its base.

The monster dropped the ponies. Four of them crashed to the ground, but Applejack landed on the monster's body. She squatted and yelled, "Don' think ya can get away!"

The tentacles tried to shove Applejack off, but with a grunt and a mighty squeeze from her cloaca, she pulled half the monster inside her. The monster flailed, grasping at tree branches and rocks. Sweat beaded on Applejack's brow as her cloaca stretched. With a pop, the monster vanished inside.

The other ponies gaped at Applejack. "What just happened?" asked Rainbow Dash.

"Ah trapped it," said Applejack.

"Um, why?" asked Pinkie Pie.

"It was gonna, um—"

"Gonna?"

"Well, y'know..."

"Yes?"

"Yeah. It was."

Twilight said, "Duh. Why do you think we're here?"

Applejack wrinkled her brow. "To stop it?"

Pinkie Pie gasped. "Did nopony tell you?"

"Ah thought we was on a secret mission."

Fluttershy said, "Last month I found a tentacle monster in the Everfree Forest. He was the sweetest, most darling little thing." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "And some of us got to talking, and we all wanted to, and he said he would..."

"Would what?"

Rainbow Dash blurted, "It's called 'roleplay.'"

Applejack's eyes bugged out. "Y'all was actin'?"

Fluttershy said, "He would never harm anypony."

"Well, this is awkward." Applejack bit her lip and rocked on her hooves. "Guess Ah oughtta let him out." She reached into her cloaca and tugged. A tentacle popped out, then another, and soon the whole monster.

The monster cowered. Fluttershy said, "We're sorry. We had a misunderstanding." It shrank behind a tree.

Rarity harrumphed. "We certainly did." She grabbed the monster and spanked him. "You were a naughty monster! I was helpless, and you didn't even touch me! Bad monster!" She spanked him again. "Bad! Bad!"

Applejack held her hat in her hoof and lowered her head. She said, "We kinda got off on the wrong hoof. Ah'm sorry. Ah shouldn'a done that. And Ah'll understand if ya can't forgive me, but, well"—she faced away from it and raised her tail—"Ah'm just a helpless pony all by myself in the scary forest. Ah'm weak an' vulnerable, an' Ah couldn't possibly fight off a—" She suddenly squealed. "Oooh, that's good—Ah mean, help!"

Extra: The first Cloacajack story

Author's Note

Here is the very first Cloacajack greentext, originally posted as 40680202 and 40680204. It is reproduced with the permission of the original author, who wishes to remain anonymous. Some typos have been corrected.

Extra: The first Cloacajack story

“Now, Anon, I know this is your first time, so don’t worry, I won’t judge if you don’t last long.”

With a wink, she turns around and lifts up her tail.
aaaaAAAAA WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK!!!!
Applejack looks at you quizzically
“Well hey now, Sugarcube, I know I don’t bathe as often as I should, but I don’t think that was warranted…”
WHY IN GOD’S NAME IS THERE ONLY ONE HOLE????
She cocks an eyebrow.
“Well, what did you expect my cloaca to look like? Also who’s god?”
Applejack gives you a side-eye glance.
“Anon, do women not have cloacas where you’re from?”
NO!!! EXPLAIN THIS SHIT RIGHT NOW APPLEJACK!!!!
With a sigh, Applejack explains that Equestria has this weird form of female circumcision for mares where shortly after birth, a knife is run from her vagina, to her urethra to her anus.
Once the scar tissue is removed they are left with a singular large orifice to urinate, shit, and give birth from.
Sometimes they are stretchy enough to carry things inside.

“Well Anon, if you’ll withhold your vapid horror, I haven’t got all day. Either get in or stay out.”

God, your first day in Equestria couldn’t get any weirder. First you get triple raped by three fillies with machetes, and now this?
You reach into Applejack’s cloaca.
shlorp
With a groan, you insert your other arm and spread it large enough to make a hole for yourself.
You figure that this is probably going to be a shoes-off thing, so you take off the dress shoes you wore to your high-school grad and plant one socked door inside her cloaca, feeling her walls shiver around you under the added weight.
You trip and fall the rest of the way through. You can feel your other foot sticking out the back of her muscular cheeks.
You take a look around. Oh, for fucks sake.

It looks like you’re in a university professor’s study, complete with bookshelves, a hardwood floor, an easy chair and a single naked lightbulb dangling from the moist, pliant ceiling.
You sigh and pull your other foot the rest of the way through.
shlip. Smells like someone emptied a whole bottle of apple-scented Febreze in here.
You hear something muffled from above.
you yell back, I CAN’T FUCKING HEAR YOU!!!
no response
You pull out a book from the bookshelf and sit down on the easy chair. A single apple looks back at you from the cover.
You open the book to discover that all the words have been replaced with unicode-style black and white apples, because of course they have.
You flip through the tome. More of the same. Fucking fantastic.
More muffled voices. Everything’s moving now. Applejack must be on the move. You drop the book and cling onto the easy chair for dear life.
Suddenly, a sphincter in the ceiling sphincters open. You hear something that sounds like a winch turning.
A shoebox descends from high above, touching down a few feet in front of you.
Warily, you approach it, keeping low to the ground.
With both hands, you deftly open it up. An overwhelming smell of alfalfa hits you in the face.
Oh my god.
Is this her snowpity?
Nope, it’s just alfalfa.