Under the Rule of Yaks

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo watched Apple Bloom from across the room. The very moment that the slave by the name of Ugly came into the room, Apple Bloom had narrowed her eyes and stopped talking to the other two about what kind of soap would best remove the smell of shit from their manes, and had bolted over to punch the snitch right in the mouth.

They looked at each other in unison. Part of them wanted to stop her; to pull her away and tell her that violence wasn’t the answer. On the other hoof, Bed Toy had been there when their master had learned that they’d shared food, and when given the chance, had confirmed that Ugly had been the one to rat them out. Maybe she was covering for herself, and maybe she was covering for Fat Arse, but it was just as likely that they were telling the truth. So on the other hoof, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo wanted to join in. Rather than picking one or the other, they just stood back and let it happen.

As soon as Apple Bloom had worked out her frustration, leaving Ugly with little more than a fat lip and a bruised ego, she went to the sink to wash her hooves and returned to her friends. “Do ya think Ah went too far?”

“I wonder if you went far enough,” answered Scootaloo. “Being forced to clean a toilet with my face is worth more than a few punches.”

“I think you should have given her a chance to defend herself,” replied Sweetie Belle. “Maybe she had a good reason for throwing us under the wagon like she did.”

“Maybe she didn’t,” wheezed Fat Arse. “All I said was it wasn’t me.”

“And just what are you accusing me of?” asked Bed Toy. “Are you calling me a liar?”

Fat Arse shook her head. Her cheeks slapped against her lips. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m not making an accusation. I’m just saying it’s not me. If it was one of the new girls, why would they implicate themselves? If it’s me, why wouldn’t I just eat the food, instead of reporting it? That just leaves the two of you to gain. That’s all. For all I know, Master found it himself.”

“Yeah, after being told where it was,” snorted Bed Toy.

The doorframe suddenly turned dark as their master blocked it with his body. All of them moved into position and dropped down to their knees, with Ugly being the last to do so.

“Who hit Ugly?” he asked.

Keeping her head down, Apple Bloom stood up. “It was me, Master. Me an’ me alone.” Aside from just being the truth, Apple Bloom was still friends with the others, and didn’t want to put them through any more trouble today. They’d been through enough over the last week.

“I was also involved,” answered Scootaloo, standing up. She wasn’t going to let Apple Bloom face the punishment alone.

“Me, too,” answered Sweetie Belle.

Their master looked down at them. “Show me.”

Apple Bloom just sort of swung at the air. Her hoof whooshed, but she didn’t hit anything, and not nearly as hard as she’d actually struck Ugly.

“No, no. Hit her again.”

Apple Bloom was still for a moment, considering whether or not she wanted to, but as her master’s brow furrowed, she realised that he was serious, and she slammed her hoof into Ugly’s face so hard that she crumpled to the ground.

Their master chuckled as Ugly stood back up, crying softly. “You, go.” He pointed at Scootaloo.

Scootaloo froze for a moment, but upon recalling her punishment, leaped at Ugly, first knocking her to the ground and then kicking her in the gut while she was down. That made their master laugh even harder.

“Now, you.”

Sweetie Belle really didn’t want to hit her. She already thought this had gone too far, and having stepped beyond that, she really didn’t want to press further.

“Well?”

“I, uh… hurt my wrist when I punched her earlier, sir. I don’t think I could manage another strike…”

“I’ll do it!” volunteered Bed Toy, kicking Ugly right in the balls. The filly reached down and cradled her bruised orbs as they began to swell, having struck the chastity cage they were locked to.

Ugly hadn’t been born a filly, but their master wasn’t about to let that stop him. He’d locked the colt in a small chastity cage, fed him estrogen supplements, and treated him like a filly at every opportunity. Ugly might not grow into a mare without surgery, but she was certainly never going to be a fully-realised stallion.

Their master laughed his sadistic laugh, pleased to see that his least useful slave was being beaten for what he might have guessed was incompetence. “Hey, Fat Arse, do you want to kick?”

Fat Arse was like Sweetie Belle, and didn’t want this to go on any longer than it needed to. “Can I just sit on her face, instead?”

Their master nodded, and Fat Arse planted her fat arse on Ugly’s face. As he chuckled, the master pointed to Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo. “Stinky, Deep Breath and Cocksocket, come. You clean.”

So they were to be on cleaning duty. At the very least, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo were given the option to vent their frustrations, first.

As they left the room with Ugly whimpering from the pain, they were led down the hall to where their master ate his dinner. He was going to eat while they cleaned him. He continued to stand while he ate, just spreading his legs a little bit. He was ready for them to begin, he just had to wait for them to start, or kick them if they were taking too long.

As Sweetie Belle turned around to try to figure out who had to take the yak’s stinky arsehole, she found that both of her friends had already put their hooves up against the sides of their nose, in a classic “not it” position. She scrunched up her face in disgust and positioned herself behind him. With a deep breath, she plunged her tongue into his arsehole.

There was just as much diarrhea slurry on the inside as there was dripping down the outside. The hot brown mess dribbled from his pucker and into her mouth. There was a long-time etiquette rule about not spitting while at the dinner table, and it was one of the few that her master enforced, so there was only one direction for it to go. At the very least, some of the corn was still intact…

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo turned to each other. There was one more decision to make, and that was to be decided by drawing a straw. Scootaloo presented two to Apple Bloom, who ended up drawing the short straw.

Having lost the second game, Apple Bloom crawled up under Sweetie Belle and craned up her neck. She would spend the next few hours after this plucking hair from between her teeth. She had to clean his bushy fur up first so that she could move it aside, and only then could she reach his balls to lick those clean.

Scootaloo had won. She still had to clean him with her tongue, but she would be the only one that didn’t have to clean up his shit. She positioned herself under his belly and looked up. There was a filthy, hair-covered knob protruding down, and luckily for her, it was mostly covered in piss and sweat.

She pressed her lips against his belly skin and started lapping at an area where the hair was relatively thin and wiry. It would be easier to start there and suck in little bits at a time until she hit the prepuce. If she tried to do the prepuce all at once, his cock could slip out and run down her throat, and then she’d be punished for pulling away, despite being pushed.

As they all licked their master clean, they heard a gurgling noise. Scootaloo even felt it, with her tongue pressed against his belly. Apple Bloom knew what was coming next as she felt his left testicle raise ever so slightly. Sweetie Belle closed her eyes, knowing what was going to happen, and to try to mitigate the effects, pressed her mouth as tightly against her master’s arsehole as she could muster.

A moment later, there was an explosion in her mouth, as he farted right down her throat. She ended up swallowing some of it, and breathing in some more. Some even looped around and shot out of her nose. But it was all too much for her, and a lot of it splattered past her lips, carrying with it all of the liquid being spewed from his arsehole at the same time. Despite her best efforts, her face was now soaked; partially with the foul-smelling yellow-brown sludge, and partially with her own salty tears.

Apple Bloom didn’t want to see her like this. She didn’t like seeing Sweetie Belle cry, but what could she do, really? At best, she could switch places with her, but that wouldn’t really save her, as then Sweetie Belle would be licking up dried-on shit from her master’s hairy ballsack, and Apple Bloom would be swallowing the digestive gasses.

Apple Bloom debatably had the harder job, anyway. While Sweetie Belle’s was more upsetting, wet shit was, as the description implied, wet and pliable. Once it had been stuck to his balls for an hour or two, it was dry and clingy, and needed to be rehydrated. It’s not like he sat in a tub for half an hour to let it soak, either. It was dry and crusty, and the only fluid she had to make it workable and come off was her own saliva.

Of course, if it was just his balls, then there would be little issue cleaning them. After all, just running her hoof around them would peel the soft skin away from the hard surface that had dried to it. Shit would be spilling off of him in flakes. Instead, it was sticking in clumps.

That was due to the massive amount of hair that covered the yaks. When caked in shit, the hair would bind together in massive clumps, tying itself in knots both tiny and large. That would only facilitate more of the shit being caught and clumping up, which would make the problem worse and worse until… Well, she didn’t know. She’d been made to clean it before it came to that point every time.

The curious part of this phenomenon was that there was no precedence of what the yaks were doing to combat this problem before now. The enslavement of ponies was relatively new, or at least, on this scale. If ponies were being taken as slaves before, it was just a few at a time, being reported as missing. News of the invasion and what was happening to the prisoners had spread quickly, and ponies were being bought up as soon as they were captured. Even Bed Toy, the oldest slave among this particular harem, was one of the first taken, less than a year ago. So what were yaks doing to keep their butt hair clean back then? More importantly, why was such a method so inoperable now?

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter anymore. Ponies were being used now. Whatever came before that was old tech, and wasn’t being used anytime soon.

Scootaloo was wondering none of this. She was instead focusing on her task. The grubby end of her master’s cock had slid out of his prepuce and was rubbing against her eyelid. She wasn’t ready to lick it clean yet, as she was still sucking urine out of his hair.

Part of her considered herself lucky. Not needing to eat his sloppy shit after having had to eat so much from the toilet seemed a stroke of good fortune, even if it was stained in urine. It was no more pleasant, but it was less harsh, and that was enough.

On the other hoof, having the head of his cock press against her eye, that she feared if she were to stop clenching it shut, it would pop right out, was fairly harrowing. Not to mention the fact that it was as slippery as a slug, covered in the mucous that kept him lubricated, and the foul-smelling smegma that was sure to make it difficult to open that eye for a week.

But even that wasn’t the worst of it. How many days had he been without being cleaned? A week, at most; she’d been involved in that bath. In his hair, there were tiny little bugs crawling around. And every so often, she’d feel them crawling around on her tongue, too, or even up her nose.

She wondered how he could stand to be this dirty. Not that she wanted to lick him clean every night, but she couldn’t stand the feeling of bugs crawling all over her all of the time. A ladybug or a caterpillar every now and again was one thing, especially if she could hold it in her hoof. Even a butterfly or moth wasn’t so terrible. But maggots, fleas, and large, spiky beetles were another story altogether.

As half a dozen tiny black specks slammed into her face, his slug-like dick slipped past her eye and landed squarely in her ear. The impact yanked her head to the side and she let out a yelp.

“That mouth has better uses,” grunted their master through a mouthful of whatever he was eating. They hadn’t looked, because it would be too disappointing to see it and not be allowed to taste it. They’d be taunting themselves. “Back to work.”

Scootaloo nodded and took the tip of his now fully-extended cock into her mouth. It was covered in slime of three different kinds; mucous, smegma and precum. And something else, too. It was sour and salty and bitter. The same could be said of some of the other fluids, but this had a different taste to it. In some ways, it was better, in others, worse. But when she found out what it was, she felt silly for not realising it sooner: earwax from her own ear.

Suddenly, Sweetie Belle did something she almost never did: she belched. She was a big admirer of her sister, and had been raised to believe that burping, belching, and other boisterous expulsions of gas were uncouth, and as such, were meant to be done quietly, if they were to be done at all.

She couldn’t help herself anymore, and she started sobbing. A soft wail rang out every time her lips separated from his arsehole. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo could both feel it in their chests that they’d wronged Sweetie Belle. She may have been the slowest to respond and the biggest crybaby of the three, but every tear that ran down her face was a hailstone raining down on their souls.

To make matters worse, their master was laughing at her, trying to fart again so that she’d be made to swallow more air and burp again, making her cry louder. The slave quarters were soundproofed, so he wouldn’t need to listen to her all night.

It was Scootaloo that put on a brave face. Rainbow Dash was her hero, and even though she now went by the name “Rainbow Butt,” she was still the same pony in her heart. Rainbow Dash was the same pony, Scootaloo was the same pony, and Sweetie Belle was still her friend.

With a deep breath through her nose, in spite of the smell, Scootaloo drove her head down as far as it would go. She had to distract him, and to her surprise, it worked. He began to thrust into her stomach, gripping her thigh with his hoof and squeezing tightly. He was in control now, and she was just along for the ride.

Apple Bloom caught on quick to what was happening, though not why. More importantly, she’d tried something like this before, and knew that Scootaloo would need to breathe eventually, and unless their master came, he wasn’t going to let her go until she turned limp.

To keep Scootaloo breathing, she had to make her master finish, and that meant speeding him along. She grabbed ahold of his scabbard and started sliding it along his cock, squeezing it between her hooves to apply some amount of pressure.

“Keep licking!” he commanded, glaring back at her. “Those balls better squeak from being so clean!”

Apple Bloom buried her face in his scrotum. She could lick him clean and jerk him off at the same time. She had the means. She had to. Scootaloo wouldn’t last longer than a few minutes.

And then Sweetie burped again. Except, it didn’t stop at just a burp. It started out that way, but before too long, solids and liquids came up out of her throat, and she vomited all over Apple Bloom’s neck and back.

Regurgitated shit was bad enough. Having it drip from her while she was sucking a wrinkled, hairy pair of balls while trying to jerk off her master so that he’d cum down Scootaloo’s throat was humiliating. Apple Bloom herself broke down a bit, a hoofful of tears running down her crusty cheeks. It was all just too much for her.

The only one that didn’t break down in tears was Scootaloo. Closing her eyes and fluttering her wings to push his considerable body hair aside, she swallowed as much of his cock as she could, and even a bit more. It hurt; that much she could tell without question. But this wasn’t about her throat feeling like she was being ripped in half. This was for Sweetie Belle. And for Sweetie Belle, she would keep on sucking until she passed out.

Luckily, she didn’t have to. With one last, powerful slam, her nose connected with his belly, and her jaw popped. Scootaloo’s ears were ringing, a factor that she promptly ignored as she was forced to swallow gob after gob of thick yak cum. She couldn’t spit it out if she wanted to; it was being sent right past her mouth, down her throat and thankfully into her esophagus, where it exited his penis and was propelled down into her stomach.

His groans of pleasure soon turned to chuckles of excitement. “Don’t never say I didn’t do nothin’ for ya never. Have extra protein for dinner! Ha!”

As soon as he released his grip on her head, Scootaloo fell to the floor, gasping for breath. “Thank you… master…” she wheezed, gripping her jaw with her hooves.

The other two quickly finished and grabbed Scootaloo, propping her up on their shoulders to a bowing position.

“Good enough,” their master said, looking under himself to see how clean he was. His condition would never pass pony standards, but it was good enough for a yak. “Special treat time. Which one wants to be Bed Toy tonight?”

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom looked at each other. Neither wanted to have their filly-sized cunts stuffed with the slimy cock of an adult yak, even if it had been licked clean. Scootaloo just stared at the floor, exhausted. She couldn’t answer, but after diving in to protect Sweetie Belle, they couldn’t let her do it.

That’s when Apple Bloom hatched a devious plan. “Ya know, that fight earlier was about how Ugly had a better pussy than us.”

“It was?” asked Sweetie Belle.

Apple Bloom jabbed her elbow into Sweetie Belle’s ribs.

“I mean, It was!”

“What would bring us the greatest amount of pleasure is knowing that our beloved master was experiencin’ the greatest pleasure he could,” continued Apple Bloom with the least venomous smile she could muster. “Ah’m sure that she would appreciate the hard dickin’ y’all have for ‘er.”

Their master rubbed his chin, as if thinking. He didn’t do that often. “She was gone for several days. I should see if she still knows how to take dick.”

They followed him back to the slave quarters and watched as he grabbed Ugly from her bed and dragged her off by the tail.

“How conniving,” commented Bed Toy from across the room. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had it out for her.”

“Jus’ sharin’ the chores,” smirked Apple Bloom. “Besides, Scoots is injured.”

“Which one is Scoots, again?”

“Cocksocket,” corrected Sweetie Belle. “The one that can’t stand up and is having trouble breathing.”

“Ah. Yeah, I see that, now…”

Sweetie Belle did a lot more lifting than usual to help Scootaloo into bed. Apple Bloom was impressed. “Thanks for the save,” she said as she tucked the pegasus in. “I owe you one.”

Scootaloo turned to her and made a sound that would be completely incomprehensible out of context. However, Sweetie knew the look in her eyes, and even if Scootaloo couldn’t move her jaw very well, her message was clear as crystal:

“Yes, you do.”