A Passionate Afternoon in the Barn
You step through the portal, immediately taking a deep breath as you move from the dreary world of your empty life to the vast, vibrant, colorful world of Equestria. Excitement makes your skin tingle as a soft breeze blows, rustling your unkempt hair and neckbeard. Celestia’s sun—as beautiful as her glorious flank—warms your very soul with its soothing rays. Truly, even to experience this, all those bribes to Equestrian Innovations were worth it to be the first through the portal to Equestria.
But you do not care for such things. You are here for one reason, and one reason only: to fuck a pony.
A thick bead of sweat rolls down your brow and down your fat back, and you reach up with your dear mother’s borrowed handerchief, monogrammed with her initials, and wipe your perspiring head. “Soon,” you whisper, bits of spittle flying from your lips and onto the grass below. “Oh yes, very soon.”
A few minutes of laborious walking—gym class was never your strong suit—later, you stand before your haunt of choice in Ponyville: Sweet Apple Acres. The fragrant smell of apple blossoms surrounds you, and the heady scent is so sweet, were you a less manly man, it would bring tears to your eyes. Clearly the water coming off of you is just sweat. Yes. Sweat. From nervousness.
After all, you’ve gone to all this trouble, come all this way, but what if your waifu doesn’t like you? What if that earthy, tempting, sassy angel Applejack rejects your advances? “It’d be like Derpygate… but worse.” A single manly tear rolls down your cheek in fond rembrance of your beloved Derpy. If only Hasbro hadn’t ruined your headcanon about her and Rarity being sisters… “No!” you bellow, shocking some nearby birds into flight. “It must be true. It must. Why else would Rarity have…” You lose track of your surroundings as you feverishly defend your beloved theory from yourself. Fight on, brave crusader. Fight on.
“Now whut in tarnation is goin’ on out…” Applejack’s angelic drawl slows to a stop as your eyes meet, hers even more fearful and confused than yours were when you thought moral crusaders would put an end to your beloved clop Tumblrs.
You clear your throat, hoping no dust from the Cheetos you were eating is still on your homemade “Applejack is best pony” shirt. “H-hello. I… I…” Mentally, you curse your tongue-tied state. Oh, how you’ve never been good with women! And with such a beautiful specimen standing before you, naked as the day she was born (save her hat, of course), nothing has changed. Fear rises as you wonder if your attempts at courting a pony will go as badly as your attempt to seduce Ashleigh Ball went at the last brony convention you attended.
“What in the name of Granny’s fermented cider are you?” Applejack begins to circle you, eyeing you and your fully-clothed self with suspicion. Of course! You should have simply shed all those trappings of inferior human civilization the moment you were away from prying eyes! How could you have been so foolish?
“Stupid!” you curse under your breath.
“Pardon, whatever-ya-are?”
You clear your throat, again, hoping that it will somehow erase the memories of your social ineptitude in front of best poni. “Sorry. I am… a human. I come from a place called Earth.”
“Earth? Like an earth pony?”
You chortle. “Oh no, Applejack. You see, where I come from, Earth is a planet, filled with people like me: ‘humans.’”
“Hyomunz…” Applejack rolls the unfamiliar word around on her tongue. “Huh. Well, ya’ll have come a mighty far way, I’d reckon.” Her expression brightens, her large, expressive eyes widening with a gleam that is too precious to possibly be real. “How’s about you come on in an’ sit a spell and we can talk. Figure you’ve got quite a tale to tell.”
“Th-thank you.” You start to follow along behind her, your eyes slipping low in an ungentlemanly manner to what lies beneath that swishing tail. Everything is going better than expected. “M-maybe we should go in the barn?”
Applejack stops and gives you a look of confusion. Luckily, you’ve already lifted your gaze.
“So as to not… not scare any pony.”
She puts a hoof to her chin. “Hmm… mighty fine idear ya got there. Sure.”
You switch course, and once again your eyes drop to those heavenly folds beneath her tied tail. You’ll be alone with her: how, then, to make the move?
You both walk into the cool shade of the barn. The musty smell of hay and farm equipment surrounds you.
“So, Mister ‘heumen,’ what brings ya to Ponyville?”
Now is the time. After months of planning, thousands of dollars, and a carefully-practiced speech, you decide to throw that shit out the window and just make something up. A true man follows his heart! “Miss Applejack, I have traveled far, through time and across dimensions…” You begin pacing, noting that Applejack nods as you speak, though she looks a bit bemused at your sudden dramatic shift. “I am a man consumed by a dream, an impossible dream, and I came here to make it a reality.”
“That dream wasn’t possible back home?” she asks, tilting her head.
“Not for lack of trying,” you mutter, thinking again of Ms. Ball’s restraining order.
“Poor thing.”
“In any case!” you shout, returning to your dramatics, “I came all this way, at great expense, to fulfill a dream some called impossible. Some called foolish. Some even called a waste of time. But I knew in every waking hour that it was worth it.” With a sudden whirl, you put your face right in front of Applejack’s. “I came here… to see you.”
“M-me?” she stammers, the color rising to her cheeks just beneath her coat.
“Yes, you. I’ve always admired you, Applejack. Your kind nature, your bravery… you’re truly a great mare.”
“Aw, well shucks, pardner.” Her blush deepens, and she scratches the back of her head with a hoof. “That’s mighty kind of ya.”
You lean close, close enough to feel the hot exhales from her muzzle. “What I’m tellin’ you is the honest truth,” you say in your most suave, romantic tone. “I love you, Applejack.”
Before she faints from your manly declaration of love, you lean in and kiss her, wrapping an arm awkwardly around her neck. She stiffens at first, making your body tense in fear, but in moments, her tongue meets yours, and the two of you melt together in bliss.
Wordlessly, Applejack pulls away, a thin line of saliva connecting your mouth and hers. You start to speak, but her half-lidded gaze and a hoof on your mouth stops you. She turns around, hikes up her tail, and gives you a “come hither” face that could inspire even the most prudish of bronies to draw clop.
In a fluid motion, you drop your pants, exposing your long, hard cock to the Equestrian air. Applejack snorts, unimpressed, but you are determined to show her size doesn’t matter. Carefully, you position yourself behind her, then slowly glide into her wet, warm folds, moaning with satisfaction as your dream finally comes to fruition.
You thrust in deeper, curious at Applejack’s lack of reaction.
“Are ya in yet?” she yawns, tired of waiting.
“Wh—yes. I’m…” Flustered, you dive in to the hilt, feeling her body conform around you. It’s so good… no mere Bad Dragon product could have prepared you for this.
“Y’all are small. I kin barely feel it!”
You, meanwhile, have ignored her complaining, and twitch within her, letting forth a mighty spray into her. “Haaa…” you moan, feeling deeply satisfied as you pull out. Lasting longer would have been good, but not bad for your first time!
“Wh—that’s it?!” Applejack shouts, bowling you over as you stoop to put your pants back on. “Land’s sakes, even Rainbow went longer on this rodeo pony! That’s it! Big Maaaac!” she calls.
Your heart stops for a moment. Under normal circumstances, Big Mac would be a welcome sight, but now, with those strong legs of his…
“A-Applejack, w-wait. I… I promise, I’ll…”
“I don’t wanna hear it!” She bucks you in the chest, sending you into a pile of hay. “An’ that’s the honest truth!”
As your vision swims and darkens, you see a large, red shape lumbering over to Applejack. “Another one, sis?”
“Yeah, this one even worse than the last. You want him?”
“Eeyup.”
Then, all went dark.
You wake up, finding yourself bent prostrate over a low wall in the barn. You jerk back impulsively to set yourself upright, but find all your limbs tied with knots the likes of which only the masterful Applejack could have crafted to beams of the barn.
A cool breeze blows, making you shiver. Somehow, all your clothes have been lost.
This is probably not a good sign.
“A-Applejack?” you call, twisting your head this way and that for any sign of her soft pony plot. “I-I’m sorry! Please! Can we… talk about this?”
“Nnnnope,” a deep rumble answers from behind you.
Without warning, heavy hooves rest on your shoulders, and you can see Big Mac leaning his head close to your ear. “Ready to be the mare?”
Suddenly, he thrusts into you from behind, his flared horsecock expanding your virgin asshole to circumferences you previously thought impossible. You howl in pain from his throbbing, hot length forcing its way into you with agonizing slowness. He’s taking his time. He’s enjoying himself.
“I… p-please…” you beg, tears of agony falling down your face.
“Eeeyup?” comes the cheerful query.
“S-stop…” you hiss, trying to focus on anything to dull the pain of his flared tip digging deeper and deeper inside you. Occasionally, the massive thing throbs, forcing further loosening. You can’t help but think of a keyhole being rammed with a redwood.
“Nnnope.” With a grunt, he works himself further and further into you, until the very tip of his cock rests against your prostate. His sweaty, slick balls, hot with an expected release, come to rest against your own, inadequate, almost comparatively womanish set. Despite yourself, through all the pain, the rubbing starts to feel good.
“N-no…” you moan, subconsciously synchronizing your panting with the rock-hard stallion’s. Your hips, too, begin to move with a life of their own, rocking back into him as he thrusts forward, tickling you.
The flared tip works back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, up and down inside you, loosening you up further. The pain is still there—you feel about ready to split right down the center—but it’s less noticeable now.
Suddenly, Big Mac shoves it in as far as it can go—eliciting a scream of enraptured pain for you—and groans, filling you with his hot, sticky, runny offering. He pumps and pumps, but he’s too man for you, and you feel some start to leak right out of you.
“Unnnnh,” you groan, going slack as the odd, heady combination of pain and pleasure overwhelms you, and your own traitorous, twitching dick throbs in satisfaction.
As Big Mac slides out, slowly throbbing his way out of your abused ass, you hear another set of hoofsteps. Applejack’s musical voice chuckles. “Guess he was more mare than stallion, eh Mac?”
Big Mac, still breathy, responds, “Eeeyup.”
“Sure was nice o’ them fellers to send over the ones that wouldn’t be missed fer this. Some kinda deal with Celestia, to hear Twilight tell it.”
Big Mac only grunts as the cold hand of fear grips you. Wait… you weren’t the first? There are others? Where are they now?!
“So, if you’re done with him for now, Mac…”
You begin to pray to every deity out there that he is.
“Go ahead, sis. Mighty fine strapon ya got there. Makes me a lil’ envious.”
The gods have abandoned you; you begin praying to Discord, Nightmare Moon, and Sombra for a swift death.
“Got him all warmed up for me?” Big Mac apparently nods, because Applejack licks her lips and whispers, “Good… I’m gonna enjoy this.”
Author's Note
Eeyup.
