Loving The Predator

Thousands of feet in the air was a really terrible place to be told that.

“Beg pardon?” said Applejack, her eyes still tightly screwed shut.

“I said, when we get there, help me find a good place to hide our magic bit so Princess Celestia can’t confiscate it!”

“Aw, Dashie, now when did she ever do a thing like that?”

“Just yesterday. I saw it. Twilight was pissed! I can see why. Princess Celestia’s mad because one of the bits exploded…”

“It what?” blurted Applejack, and then squealed. “Eeeee! Oh gosh, Dashie, you let go a lil’ there…”

“I gotcha!” said Dash, tightening her grip. “I told you, it exploded. I guess nopony told Princess Celestia that Twilight had it clamped in some kind of creepy magical science equipment. I know, okay? I was there. I wouldn’t want that to happen in my mouth either but ours doesn’t do that. Do you want to stop talking about this until we get to my cloud place?”

Applejack whimpered, her heart pounding.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes,” said Dash, and they flew on in silence.

Before long, Rainbow Dash called, “Hey featherbrain! I brought you a treat! Almost there, Applejack, hang in there.”

“You’re too kind, Dash,” said Gilda from about twenty feet forward and down, and Applejack cringed and waited with a stubborn look on her face for her mate to touch her hooves to the floor of the cloud house. They had to fly right indoors, for Applejack couldn’t walk on the cloud the house was built on—but pegasus engineering was able to produce a floor of sorts, and Rainbow Dash’s house had one.

Applejack’s hooves touched, and she breathed again. She used this breath immediately.

“What the hay is going on, Rainbow Dash?” she yelled. “Princess Celestia wants to confiscate our magic bit?”

Rainbow backed away, lifting a forehoof defensively, and Gilda tensed, her expression darkening.

“Ah am waitin’ for an explanation!”

“But I already told you!” protested Dash. “She’s mixed up. Twilight did some crazy magic thing to her own bit to make it explode, and now Celestia thinks they all do. And ix-nay on the incess-pray around Gilda, all right? We don’t mention that name, Gilda hates her.”

“Well…” Applejack hesitated. “What did Twi do? She blew it up, somehow, and now Princess Celestia heard about it?”

Gilda whirled and stalked off into Dash’s kitchen, and Dash’s face fell watching her go. “Oh, horseapples. Yes, Applejack, exactly. There was like machinery and magic stuff and everything, I don’t even know what else. I’m with Twi on this one, she would know what she did, and she was really mad at the idea that anypony’s gonna take our bits away. Especially now!”

Dash stamped a hoof in frustration, and Applejack sidled closer. “I hear ya, darlin’, bear with me. Don’t like the sound of disobeyin’ Princess Celestia though. Uhh… exactly what you got in mind, sugarcube?”

“We can hide it somewhere in here when we’re not using it. I told her I didn’t even live here anymore, which technically is kinda slightly true, you know? Don’t tell her we’re keeping the bit, don’t tell her we’re keeping Gilda, as far as she’s concerned we lost it. Okay?”

Applejack’s expression was far from okay. “Aww, Dashie…”

“No, please!” begged Rainbow. “I don’t know what’s going on with this, but I trust Twilight to fix it, and what if Princess Celestia decided not to give it back? I… I’ve gotten used to having you as my stallion, okay? And I thought you liked the new changes in me.”

Applejack’s ears were laid back. “Well, sure enough, and it ain’t that at all…”

“Then please! Stay with me on this one. Please, please!”

Applejack whimpered a little. “Don’t be upset, Rainbow?”

Dash gritted her teeth. “I’m sorry. I’m horrible. I mean it, though. Right now I can’t stand it to lose that. I really can’t. It feels like she wants to rip a big chunk of our life away and she doesn’t even care and she’ll just laugh at us being sad and think it serves us right.”

“Rainbow!” gasped Applejack.

“I can’t stand it!” yelled Dash, trotting in place.

Gilda’s head poked back out of the kitchen, curiously. “Sup, Dash? Why throw a fit all of a sudden?”

“She’s actin’ like Princess Celestia is some kinda monster!” said Applejack.

Gilda’s reaction was striking. Her eyes flared wide, she hissed and backed away, her claws dug into the floor, and for a moment Applejack panicked, thinking she was going to be attacked.

Gilda controlled herself, lashing her tail, and said “That’s a very… pony point of view, there, Applejack. In case you were wondering if you were, you know, biased or anything.”

Applejack trembled, biting her lip. “Um, happens I am a pony an’ all,” she said. She felt her vagina wink, and wondered why the hell she was suddenly so horny?

“Yeah,” said Gilda, watching Dash closely. “I like that part.”

Dash looked back and forth between them. “You guys okay? Like, ready? I have to go, Spy is waiting, and then I need to talk to Derpy. Gilda! Talk to Applejack, okay?”

“Sure, Dash,” said Gilda, and yawned nonchalantly. “Is it okay if that’s not the first thing I do?”

That got a laugh out of Rainbow. “Hah! At least something still works, right? Gotta go, I’ll be back later!”

“Yo, Dash, you know I could fly Applejack back to her place, right? Uh… if that’s okay with you, there, Applejack?”

Applejack gaped at her, and felt her vagina wink again. She gulped, and said, “Couldn’t be scarier!”

That got her a hurt look from Rainbow, with lip quivering and big ruby eyes tearing up—and then she whirled and took off out the door, a blue streak leaving a trail of tears.

Applejack yelled and ran after her, but before she could get out to see which way Dash had fled, she was yanked to a stop by a fierce grip on her tail.

She turned to see Gilda gripping her tail in one tightly clenched claw and glaring at her in a fury, and she went weak in the knees and felt herself winking again at the big griffin, captured again and at her mercy—her body wavering between boneless surrender or hysterical flailing depending on how fiercely Gilda attacked her.

Instead, Gilda licked her beak fretfully and said, “Yo, Applejack. Can you walk on clouds? Pegasus ponies can. Well, correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re not a pegasus, are you?”

Applejack just stared at her, and then the meaning sank in and her eyes widened. “Oh, crap!”

“You scared the shit out of me,” said Gilda. “Come back here and don’t try to run out of this house. Dash would fucking kill me if you fell from here, even if I caught you. Which I totally could, but what if you were freaking out and kicked me or something? Don’t. Just… don’t!”

“Aw, I’m sorry! I was upset.”

Gilda gazed coyly at her from under that crest of feathers. “Let me help you be less upset.”

Hesitantly, at first, Applejack stepped toward her, watching that griffin tail lash eagerly.

“Hang in there, Big Macintosh, I’m on it!” called Applejack, trotting toward the farmhouse.

The difference between the two siblings was stark. Big Macintosh’s head drooped as if his collar was suddenly too heavy for him to bear, and he pouted outrageously, looking slightly less mature than Apple Bloom, plainly filled with dismay over the turn of his fate and not just filled with Braeburn under the turn of his tail. He’d returned to his chores but seemed to be throwing himself at them with redoubled effort, as if that would redeem him.

Applejack clung to her optimism, and she was aided by her fine healthy mare body, which glowed with satisfaction. Gilda had been amazing, just as good as the first time but more manageable. She’d melted delightfully when taking pony cock, making the most outrageous sounds but wriggling and pushing back against Applejack’s crotch in a way the country pony felt she could really get used to, and this time she’d controlled herself for so long that Applejack had come in her, which set a new high mark for glorious guttural feline squall.

Gilda had come so hard, feeling that copious gush of stallionseed, that she’d collapsed under Applejack rather than thrashing forward in a frenzied ball of muscles and claws. The whole thing had been odd, for Gilda seemed to be fighting to stay relaxed apart from her orgiastic shrieks of lust, making huge efforts to change her griffin way of lovemaking. Even her rolling and flipping afterward had been somehow more languid, and she had insisted on giving Applejack a bonus orgasm with her scratchy little tongue, and even that had been an affair of very slow, careful motions, sensuous deliberate licking without any hint of predatory greed.

“I’m going full pony,” Gilda had said, “you make it seem so right.”

Applejack wasn’t at all sure how she felt about that, but it had left her body thrumming with pleasure and life, and she drew on that feeling as she trotted determinedly upstairs and down the hall to a certain firmly locked door.

She banged on it with her hoof.

“No!” snapped Granny Smith.

“Ah will kick it down,” declared Applejack flatly. “Open th’ damn door!”

She waited, heart thumping, and just as she began to turn around and direct her potent hindquarters to their wooden target, she heard the latch click, and then Granny drew the door open and any kicking of the door would literally mean kicking Granny in the teeth.

She didn’t turn back right away, even so.

“Well, I opened th’ damn door,” said Granny, bitterly. “What d’ you want, girl?”

“You know, Granny. Happens I don’t care whether you like it, at this point.”

Granny sniffed the air, confronted with Applejack’s shapely hindquarters. “Been playin’?”

Applejack set her jaw. It wasn’t a time for coyly pivoting away just because Granny was looking at her marehood with a sour expression. Her position served another purpose.

“Ah’m done playin’,” said Applejack.

“Can’t you jes’ leave me alone?” complained Granny. “Why you got to come an’ bother me now?”

“Come along,” said Applejack, “an’ apologize an’ make nice. I ain’t askin’. Step lively.”

Granny froze, then spat on the ground. “Like hell,” she began, and then her eyes widened and she shrank back. Muscle played beneath orange flanks. Applejack, her hindquarters still aimed at Granny, had raised a rear hoof. It hovered, poised for a kick that would knock all the apples off a tree.

She turned her head, and her eyes were fierce slits to rival Granny’s.

“That was me bein’ nice, Granny Smith. Do ya want it nice, or don’t ya?”

Silence fell. Granny gulped, and licked her lips, for her mouth had gone dry real suddenly. Back in the day, she hadn’t wanted to give up Sweet Apple Acres to her daughter, and that scene came roaring back to her. There could only be one boss Apple mare. She’d intended to deliver a grownup-sized spanking to Applesauce and go about her business after teaching her daughter not to countermand her orders to the farmhand ponies.

Instead, she’d ended up spitting out broken teeth in her room, her bed upended and barricading the door, her heart pounding as she listened to Applesauce demolishing both door and bed to get at her… and then, that pause, that incredible pause as she and her daughter took a moment to register the situation… and then, one sigh of satisfaction from outside the door, without even a curse or stomp.

And the hooves that had been bludgeoning her body and beating down her door turned and trotted blithely away, down the stairs, and out the door. She heard Applesauce’s voice, calling out to the hired hands.

“Farm’s mine now, boys,” she’d said.

“Yes’m,” they’d replied, in unison, without a moment’s hesitation—and they’d all returned to work, leaving Granny to stew in her room behind her improvised barricade.

Applesauce had personally helped to fix her door, later that night, bossing three farm hands to remove the splintered and shattered wood and replace it with a brand new door, which she decorated with flowers. Hollyhocks—which were probably not mockery, thought Granny, but as much explanation as she’d ever get. Lily-of-the-valley would’ve been too much to ask. From that point on, she was treated with kindness, respect, and slight embarrassment—and it seemed like mere weeks before everypony had forgotten she’d used to be the boss.

It wasn’t many more weeks before she forgot what it was like, herself.

Applejack had never needed to prove herself in that way. Her mother had died when she was small, and apart from the brief period where she’d gone away to Manehattan, her life had been about trying to take up the reins of Sweet Apple Acres when still just a filly herself. Nopony thought to challenge her, for it was already such an epic undertaking just to run the farm that her whole family had rallied behind her and wished her well.

Now, Granny gazed into Applejack’s narrowed eyes and realized that little filly was truly her daughter’s filly, and furthermore, prepared to demand a whole new set of changes.

“Are you really gonna kick a poor ol’ lady what outlived her time and jes’ wants to be left alone?” she said, bitterly.

Applejack’s nostrils flared.

“Ah love you very much, Granny, and that is why I mus’ do this. You come along an’ apologize, right now. We need you as part o’ this family an’ you are gonna act right. I’mma give you a count of three an’ then Celestia help you. Move!”

Granny watched the muscles move under that silky orange flank, smelled the scent of recent sex and the alien hint of griffin that combined with it. This one was mighty dexterous with those hooves. Maybe even dexterous enough to clock her Granny in the head without breaking her jaw or knocking her out of this new and unwelcome life completely.

“Define ‘right’,” she said.

“Three!” snarled Applejack.

“Yes’m,” said Granny, hastily. Her heart was pounding fit to bust. “What y’all want me to say?”

“Speak your heart,” said Applejack, “your real one. This way.”

Granny’s face fell, even as she obligingly followed, and she muttered, “There’s yer problem…”

Big Macintosh’s legs trembled, and his eyes were a little too wide.

“Come on, now!” said Applejack. “What do we say?”

“Danged if I know,” muttered Granny. “Sorry, I guess. Sorry for what, exactly?”

Applejack stamped the ground with a forehoof, and both Big Macintosh and Granny flinched. Apple Bloom did not. She watched with an expression of annoyance and awe, a strange combination.

“Ah might suggest, sorry for bein’ closed-minded an’ unkind!”

“Sorry for bein’ closed-minded and unkind,” parroted Granny, and shot Applejack a sidelong glance. “That about right?”

“Like ya mean it!” demanded Applejack.

“An’ how kin you stand there an’ tell me I do or don’t mean a thing?”

Applejack glowered at Granny. “How about you look him in th’ eye and say that, for a start?”

“Easier said than done, that overgrown colt’s a-studyin the dirt…”

“Big Macintosh!” demanded Applejack, and her brother gave another start. “You look at Granny. She got somethin’ to say to you and you best hear it!”

“What did you want me to say, again?” grumbled Granny.

Applejack sighed. “You say what you jes’ said, and you mean it! Look him in th’ eye. Big Macintosh, steady there! Okay. Go.”

Two pairs of Apple eyes locked.

Granny gulped, suddenly struck with the reality of her situation. She stared into her grand-colt’s eyes, so wide, and she was lost for words. The big baby seemed totally helpless, begging for an approval that she was not able to provide. She even wanted to, a little, but she wondered if that was how he looked into the eyes of the stallion who mounted him and…

Granny Smith gulped again.

“Come on!” demanded Applejack.

“I’m sorry,” said Granny. “Ah am so, so sorry, child. For, uh, bein’ unkind. I guess I asked too much. I… I’m sorry, Big Macintosh.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and his face fell, and fell, and fell, bathed and then drowned in her obvious disappointment and despair.

Granny turned then, to glare at Applejack. “You satisfied? You satisfied with this day’s work, girl?”

The country mare stood, appalled. Her picture of this encounter had not ended with Big Macintosh hanging his head in shame, with Apple Bloom shocked, with Granny bitter and miserable. She stared in astonishment, and then frowned and said, “Maybe. Ya gonna act right, now?”

“Ah will act however you want me to act, you jes’ tell me what I must do. You’re th’ boss, I ain’t fool enough to cross you twice,” said Granny. Apple Bloom brightened a little, though her face showed her frustration with her conflicting loyalties.

“How about you go on back to your room if you like,” suggested Applejack. “I’ll call for you if I want you.”

“Yes’m,” replied Granny, and walked off, dragging her hooves dispiritedly. Big Macintosh watched her leave, his massive neck drooping and his head hanging low.

Apple Bloom bounced determinedly to her hooves. “Come on, Big Macintosh!” she cried. “I saw you plowin’ the fields to beat th’ band, not at all like some pony’s little filly. I’ll help you! We’ll get you back ta how you used to be, my big strong brave big brother!”

Big Macintosh’s look of disbelief was eloquent. He stared at Apple Bloom, then looked again at Granny’s retreating form, and then at Applejack’s commanding gaze.

“Oh,” he said. “Y’mean… before that horrible Rarity ruined mah life?”

Applejack’s jaw dropped.

“Now see here!” she yelled. “You take that back! Rarity is a wonderful pony an’ a close friend and the bearer of an Element of Harmony besides, an’ you will not call her names, Big Macintosh!”

He cringed, backing away as she advanced, and he moaned, “Sorry! ‘m sorry! Din’t mean it! Ah promise!”

Applejack controlled herself, drawing breath between clenched, gritted teeth. “Well… y’better not! Go on then.”

Big Macintosh skulked off, head hanging even lower than before. Apple Bloom scampered along with him, like a miniature Applejack, hectoring him cheerfully. “That’s right! You can do it, Big Macintosh, you can outplow anypony and be kind and respectful to mares and everything! Ah believe in you and I jes’ know you gonna be right as rain in no time, and we’ll take care of you until y’all feelin’ yourself again…”

Applejack watched them go, feeling like a pony carved from hard and unyielding stone. There had been no room for her to be gentle, or soft, not with such hard cases to deal with, and she wasn’t at all sure she’d managed it. She hoped so.

There had been no sign of Rainbow. Applejack looked to the farmhouse, into which Granny had already disappeared, and her lip quivered, and suddenly she knew what she needed. She trotted and then galloped to the house, and rushed up the stairs to their bedroom—the master bedroom, fit for the boss mare of Sweet Apple Acres even when she wanted to not feel like such a boss for a while—and burst in to be comforted.

Rainbow was crying on the bed, and Applejack froze in the doorway.

“Sup,” said Rainbow bleakly. “What was going on out there? I heard yelling.”

“Uhh… Rainbow? What’s th’ matter? What are y’all doin’ up here crying?”

“It’s okay, Spy’s asleep. She drank a lot of milk and went to sleep. I thought that was the least I could do after the trouble I’ve caused.”

Applejack’s face twisted. “Oh, honey… what trouble?”

“You know,” said Dash. “Making you lactate using magic, and being a pegasus, and all that stuff that’s getting you in trouble with your family. They don’t seem happy and I think it might be easier for them if they don’t see me.”

Applejack was already rushing to her side, sweeping her up into a hug and cuddling her limp form. “Naw! Oh, darlin’, no, you cain’t think that…”

“Sorry,” said Dash sullenly. “I’m doing the best I can with this. I thought it made sense.”

Applejack hugged her tightly. “What did you get for lunch?”

“Huh? I gave Spy lunch. That’s what I’ve been doing up here.”

“No,” said Applejack, trying to hang onto a reassuring smile. “Ah mean, what did you get YOU for lunch?”

“I don’t remember, which probably means I didn’t. Did you make me lunch? Listen to me not even know if the love of my life made me lunch, is that pathetic or what?”

Applejack shook her head. “We’re gonna go fix you somethin’. Right now. Rainbow, especially if you’re doin’ some kind of post-foalin’ depressin’ thing, you got to take care of yourself! You never did eat right an’ now look at you, a-skippin’ meals…”

“I’m not exactly hungry,” said Dash, apologetically.

“Don’t matter! Why, honey, all us ponies get fretful if we miss a meal. Apple Bloom is that way, I seen her sulking up a storm when she skipped lunch, even when she’s out with her friends an’ everything! An’ ain’t you never wondered why I am so good with my breakfast and all that there? You’re an Apple now, you got to eat right.”

Dash tilted her head, lifting an eyebrow. “Huh. Sounds serious. Don’t tell me, you need me to heroically get up and go have some snacks. Am I understanding you?” Her eyes showed her willingness sparking to life, fighting through the waves of depression that laid her flat on the bed.

“Ain’t sure if it counts as heroic or nothin’,” said Applejack, “but hell yeah, sugarcube!”

Dash lifted herself.

“Well, for your information I kind of think it does,” she said. “I can’t believe I’m even getting up, but I look at you and it makes me want to fight it. I really love you, Applejack. I mean, really, really… for what it’s worth which maybe isn’t that much but I don’t know, I’ll… oof!”

Applejack had grabbed her in another frantic hug, and cut off her monologue with a fevered, desperate kiss. The country mare’s body trembled, and she closed her eyes and willed her own life force into her adored, faltering mate, and she clung and kissed and yearned until she was dizzy with it, and then opened her eyes to gaze into the ruby eyes she loved so much.

They were wide with surprise.

“Wow,” breathed Rainbow Dash. “Maybe life’s good?”

“Believe it,” ordered Applejack, weak with her efforts.

This time, Gilda had come to pick her up. “How’s it going, toots?” chirped the griffin.

“Where do ah start?” grumbled Applejack.

Gilda lifted a feathery eyebrow. “That good, huh?”

“Jes’ never mind, all right?” said Applejack. “I don’t wanna think about it.” She glared at the dirt, kicking the ground with a forehoof.

Gilda sat back, looking concerned. “Are you sure you want this? If it’s bothering you so much, tell me to go away. I would totally understand.”

“Aw, not you too!” yelled Applejack.

“What?” squawked Gilda. “Fuck you, okay? All I’m saying is, it’s asking a lot for a pony to get with a griffin! I thought that was obvious! In case you were wondering, I’m trying really hard to be pony about it!” She hid her face in her claw for a moment, controlling herself, and then spoke more calmly. “I’m sorry. It’s not easy being, you know, all bland and serene and stuff. I’m trying. Look… how about I fly you up to Dash’s place, and give you some tongue? I noticed how that was for you. Dash probably warned you that it takes a little getting used to, I can work on doing it more gently and not overstimulating you…”

“Spoilsport,” snorted Applejack.

Gilda’s eyes widened. “Oh, really? No wonder you’re with Dash. Soooo… you like the full effect, huh? I thought I was falling out of the nest a little too soon with that one but I guess it has its charms?”

Applejack still didn’t look up, but she blushed and grinned and flicked her tail, and as Gilda studied her expression her own tail began to lash.

“All right,” said the griffin, “how about this? I pick up my sweet little pony and bear you carefully off to Rainbow Dash’s place, flying super gentle because I saw how you were about heights, and I lay you down on the bed still all nice and pony-like and spread your lovely legs and lay down between them real smooth so I don’t freak you out… and THEN I overstimulate the fuck out of you?”

Applejack snorted again, this time with laughter.

“Hey, it’s not fucking funny, okay?” protested Gilda. “Do you know how difficult it is to get pony pussy if you’re a griffin? You guys get triggered sometimes and only the brave ones like Rainbow Dash can really take on an excited griffin. All I’m saying…”

“Oh, I heard what you said,” grinned Applejack. She peered up from under her blonde bangs with coy wickedness. “Maybe I’m brave or maybe I’m jes’ stupid in th’ head, but around about now, all that sounds like th’ best thing ever. Yes please, do all that, an’ I’ll give you what you like, too. Jes’ one thing, though.”

“Yeah?” blinked Gilda.

“Ah…” began Applejack, and gulped. “Ah needs ya to do somethin’ for me, first, ta set me up. Prob’ly nothin’ too difficult for you—I reckon you kin.”

Gilda blinked again, racking her brain. “Anything, babe. Let you warm up with a hoof first? Start on the hide before going for the pink? I know Dash needs me to build up to it sometimes, I totally understand.”

Applejack shook her head. “Naw.” Her eyes glittered with mischief, and her hind legs trembled, her tail flicking even harder with agitation.

“So what, then?” squawked Gilda in exasperation.

Applejack licked her lips. Her mouth had gone dry. She could not stop grinning.

“Catch me!”

And with that, she was off, sprinting across the field, and behind her Gilda whooped with delight and stormed into the air, instinctively caught up in the new game. She swooped upon Applejack, and then squawked harshly and almost crashed, for Applejack had aimed a kick at her as she carefully descended.

“What the fuck, you fucking pony?” shrieked Gilda, but Applejack stopped and rolled, lolling on her back with her legs splayed. “Come an’ get me!”

“Oh, that’s how you want it?”

“Thought you was a GRIFFIN!”

“What?” squawked Gilda. “Oh, you are shittin’ me! I’ll go for your clit first, you hear me? Pony temptress!”

“All talk an’ no action,” teased Applejack, and then grunted and scrambled to her hooves in haste, for Gilda had charged. Laughing, she galloped away, her heart pounding and all the colors of the day glowing around her in hallucinatory vividness, hitting her top speed just to stay clear of the avenging griffin, just as if she didn’t want to be caught.

At first it had been a game just like she’d played with Rainbow Dash, but something had happened to her when she felt Gilda swooping down, claws outstretched, and Applejack helplessly felt herself escalating things, pushing harder and harder beyond friendly roughhousing. She swerved hard as Gilda came in again, aimed another wild kick that the griffin narrowly avoided with a filthy curse, and Applejack lost her head and began sprinting back toward Sweet Apple Acres without looking behind her…

There was a rushing of air, and Gilda’s body slammed into hers, knocking her off her stride, and Applejack would have fallen but those powerful forelimbs wrapped around her body and yanked her into the air. The ground dropped away beneath her, and her eyes first went wide in utter shock at her situation, and then shut tight against the sight of Ponyville from hundreds of feet up.

“Fuck,” muttered Gilda, in Applejack’s terror-dazed ear. “Got too into it. If anypony saw us… Hold on to your hat!”

Applejack couldn’t, but her luck was in. Her hat stayed firmly on her head, even as Gilda hit her top speed, trying desperately to get to Rainbow Dash’s house before some bystander saw what could only appear to be a pure and unprovoked griffin attack. Gilda cursed as she strained every wing muscle to get herself and Applejack into hiding. “You fucking lame crazy pony, oh shit are you gonna get it now, what were you thinking? I’ll bite your clit off. No, seriously, you’re so in for it, you’re not gonna be able to walk. I’m gonna wipe you out, you’re history. Did Dash teach you that shit?”

The griffin’s panting, lusty abuse, delivered as she flew her fastest to her lair, turned Applejack’s blood to water—and as Gilda’s forelegs tightened harshly around her body, she felt herself going limp again, and once more felt that little voice telling her to stop fighting, to just lay back and the hurt wouldn’t be so bad and she wouldn’t feel a thing. Endorphins flooded her again, just as they had that first time, and as Gilda burst in through Dash’s front door Applejack barely saw it, for she’d gone wobbly and dizzy in a strange blend of erotic expectance and prey’s surrender, and wasn’t thinking clearly anymore.

Gilda flung her roughly onto Rainbow Dash’s bed in a sprawl of flopping earth pony limbs, prepared to continue the roughhousing, wrestling Applejack into position as if she was expecting a frenzied kicking. She seized Applejack’s hindlegs, claws gripping each hock in grim earnest, wrenching them into an exposed, splayed position, diving forward with feverish, wild eyes to lick that pony vagina mercilessly…

Gilda hesitated. Gilda stared. Gilda’s beak dropped open in astonishment.

She looked on, without doing a thing, as her earth pony feast shuddered and moaned drunkenly, nipples stiffly erect, exquisite vagina juddering and twitching without even the most glancing taste. The firm shapely hocks she held weren’t struggling; their spastic jerking was only a result of the profound climaxes that racked Applejack’s helpless body. Gilda let one leg go, and it just sagged, twitching. She stared in consternation. Her pony lover was obliterated in orgasm, and she’d done exactly jack shit—she hadn’t even had time to get started.

Gilda sat very still, staring at Applejack’s vagina as it oozed and twitched its convulsive orgasmic shocks, listening to Applejack’s abandoned wails and cries. It seemed to take a very long time for the quivering mare to subside. Gilda didn’t even twitch a wing as she waited. Finally, Applejack lay quiet, relaxed in her obscene, sprawled posture, staring into nothingness as if in some sort of trance… and she jerked, as a curt phrase cut the air.

“What the fuck was that?” demanded Gilda.

“Aggg…” gurgled Applejack.

“Articulate,” said Gilda. “Seriously? I knew I was good, but I didn’t fucking lay a tongue on you! It’s hard to be proud of your pussy eating when you don’t actually get to do any of it. I’m afraid to touch you now in case I set you off again. What happened?”

There was no response. Gilda slunk cautiously around, with one last longing glance at that delectable marepussy, to see Applejack’s face more clearly. At first she thought she’d snapped the hapless pony’s mind completely, for the lovely green eyes just stared at nothing—but then Applejack blinked and began to come to her senses. As she did, she began to blush harder and harder, and a look of dismay steadily overcame her.

“What happened, Applejack?”

Applejack gulped, unable to rise. “Oh horseapples…”

“Okay, let me try that another way,” said Gilda carefully. “It looked kind of like you just came as hard as I’ve ever seen a pony come, and that includes fucking Rainbow Dash, and you know what she’s like—except I didn’t even touch you, or do any of my oral things. You came anyway, until you literally couldn’t come any more. Why?”

Applejack stared into space, scarlet with mortification. She gulped, again, and her inverted frown gave Gilda a mocking merry smile. “Aw, hell.”

“Do you want help flipping over or something? That doesn’t look comfortable. Uh, assuming it’s safe to touch you? I don’t suppose maybe your body got so sensitive that a touch or even a breath makes you have orgasms for five minutes?” said Gilda hopefully.

“No such luck,” managed Applejack, “an’ sure, flop my ass over. Oh, gosh…”

Gilda grasped Applejack’s foreleg with her claw, and the earth pony whimpered, shuddering at the touch.

“You are! You are, like, come-just-from-breathing-on-her pony, even more than Dash!”

“Naw,” said Applejack weakly, “I got this. I got somethin’ else too, I think. Ah kin feel it, now ah jes’ wonderin’ what I’m gonna do with it. Ah’m stuck with it, there ain’t no denyin’. For pony’s sake…”

“Yeah!” said Gilda. “Exactly! For pony’s sake, I want to know why you seem upset. I mean, as great as it is to be so sexy you produce orgasms from just looking at a pony, I have this nagging feeling you’re not telling me everything. One more time. What the fuck happened, Applejack?”

She rolled Applejack onto her side and arranged her head comfortably, and lay beside her, staring into those lovely green eyes with hawk-like directness. Applejack, in turn, melted under that gaze, and felt her exhausted body winking and signaling further surrender to her voracious lover.

“Talk,” demanded Gilda flatly. “You look so horny, and so miserable. If there’s something wrong, I’ll fix it. If there’s something I should do, I’ll do it. I want to be like one of you ponies and I’m not gonna give up, so tell me what’s wrong or I’ll bite your ear off.” She winced. “Sorry. Griffin phrase. We don’t actually do that, it’s just a saying.”

Applejack quivered, her heart suddenly pounding again, her breath coming in shallow pants. “Y’ kin.”

“What?” snapped Gilda.

“If ya like.”

“Whoa there, pony,” said Gilda. “Not the kind of compliment I want.”

“Uh, uh, nevermind then,” stammered Applejack. Her face twisted, and she began to cry. “Ah did it again! Aw, horseapples!”

“What the fuck is the matter with you? Do I have to tell Dash I broke her marefriend?”

Applejack’s lip quivered. “Yep. I reckon! ‘Cos I cain’t hold with this, nohow…”

She froze. Gilda was pounding her claw on the bed, and then she’d seized Applejack’s face in both claws and was glaring at her from about an inch away, grinding her beak in a sudden temper.

“Tell me what happened!” Gilda demanded, and held her entranced gaze.

Applejack felt herself sinking into those burning eyes, and suddenly it was all so easy to say.

“Ah thunk you was gonna hurt me. Real bad. An’ then everythin’ felt all okay an’ wonderful, real sudden-like, an’ I felt no pain. An’… an’ it would be okay. You could go ahead an’… an’ do it.” Applejack gulped. “Y-you kin. When you look at me that way. Ah’m gittin’ that feeling some more now. G-go on.”

As the warmth began to flood her, the griffin eyes dropped and broke the entranced gaze.

Applejack lay, helplessly, limp from extended orgasm, looking at her predator who stared dully at Rainbow Dash’s rumpled bedsheets. She felt total peace, having given herself completely up: from her sexual desires and private parts, to her body’s flesh and blood, right down to her darkest inner secrets that she herself hadn’t realized were there. Gilda, on the other hoof, looked troubled.

“My Mom told me that happened,” said Gilda. “I wasn’t sure whether to believe her. I thought maybe she was just making shit up to feel better about herself.”

Applejack watched, silently, wide-eyed.

“I didn’t realize it was true,” said Gilda. “Holy shit. It’s horrible. I guess it’s just as well. I hope the little things get it, too. And that is SO fucked up, when I really think about it, but still…”

Applejack watched.

“I didn’t want this,” said Gilda quietly. Her eye glinted, a tear threatening to emerge. “I don’t want this.”

“Please,” said Applejack, “don’t you cry?”

At that, Gilda turned to her imploringly. “Well, then, don’t talk about things I don’t believe in! Don’t you understand I want to be like a pony? Griffins suck, dude! When you do me, I get to feel like I’m a pony mare taking on a stallion, and it’s mind-blowing and I can pretend I’m this grass-eating flower child with a long poofy tail and hooves that can’t tear apart the flesh of living things, not even little things!”

Gilda controlled herself, her eyes glistening.

“And that would be good, okay? That would be a good thing to be. That’s, like, something to admire about you guys, something that other griffins don’t understand, though it’s not like I haven’t tried to make them understand. I went to a pegasus flight camp for years. I want to BE a pegasus, or at least act as much like one as I can. It helps that it’s Dash I hung out with, she meets me halfway.”

She gulped, and fixed Applejack with a hurt, fierce glare.

“Are you seriously telling me that when I do you, you get to feel like cooling meat that’s about to be griffin chow?”

Applejack’s eyes were grief-filled pools of surrender. “Ah’m sorry. Ah’ll be whatever you want me to be. Cain’t help it. Don’t wanna be no burden to nopony.”

Gilda sighed. Her body sagged, her feathery head hung, and Applejack looked on in dismay—and then, Gilda was looking sidelong at her, raptor eyes imploring.

“Can you do something for me? If you’re up to it?”

“Ah’ll do anythin’. Anythin’.”

“Let me do what I wanted to do,” said Gilda. “Before all that rough play. Before you went all prey on me. Dude, you’re not the only one with a fetish about eating pony, okay? I was all up your yingyang the last time we fucked, and I so want to eat you out again. It’s the best thing ever—well, that and pony cock! Everything pony is just the best thing ever.”

“But…” said Applejack, and bit her lip. “Ya coulda had your fill, all this time. And, uh, more.” She trembled, still longing to give herself up entirely and surrender to that warm feeling’s powerful undertow. It had kicked in so hard, and it felt so good.

“No, you don’t get me,” said Gilda. “I want to give you pleasure. I want to worship that vagina, lick it, not eat it. Especially now, especially after what you did… Can you lay back and be NOT hurt? Pretend I’m Dash or something. Like… like a p… pony could, c…”

Suddenly Gilda wouldn’t look at her. Applejack hesitated, and then said, “Darlin’?”

Gilda’s voice was quiet and controlled, but she still wouldn’t meet Applejack’s eye.

“Like a pony could really love me back—and trust me.”

“Gilda,” said Applejack clearly. “Look at me.”

The griffin’s eyes were dry, but terribly strained, as she faced Applejack.

“Can’t be harder than teachin’ that way of lovin’ to Dashie,” said Applejack. “She din’t even want to be tender, an’ you do. Well, I hear ya. An’ if this is what you want to learn, I am deeply honored. So c’mere.”

“Yeah?” said Gilda.

“Yeah. Prob’ly a lot more how my Granny pictured you an’ me… never you mind! Gonna need your help on account of I’m still jelly, but roll me on my back, spread my legs and de-liver your ecstacy. I kin stand it, I’m strong.” She hesitated, and added, “An’ even if I weren’t… what a way ta go!”

Gilda frowned. “No, don’t joke, not funny from you.”

“Aw,” said Applejack. “Shit, if I ain’t allowed to, don’t know who is… come on, then? Time ta make sweet pony love.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Gilda prowled across the bed on furry cat and talony bird feet. Gently, as if trying not to touch Applejack’s flesh with her sharp claws, she coaxed her lover’s pony body into its obscene, sprawled position again, vagina tantalizingly exposed, warm swellings of breasts comforting and sensuous between those spread legs.

Softly, Gilda nuzzled those breasts, not with her beak but with the side of her face, the soft rustling of feathers against stiffening nipples, her predator’s eyes closed in worshipful contemplation of the smells and softnesses and feels of it all.

Tenderly, Gilda licked her pony lover’s groin, breasts, vulva, with light caressing touches and firm loving strokes, waiting until Applejack’s vagina glistened with wetness and winked eagerly for her, then slowly progressing bit by bit until she was groaning in a transport of shuddering desire and pressing her scratchy little tongue as deeply into mare pussy as she possibly could—erotically devouring what she would not carnivorously devour, and revelling in her mare’s shudders and cries as she made passionate love to her special pony that loved her back and trusted her completely.

Gilda came without even touching herself, just flinging herself into the fantasy and devoting herself utterly to Applejack’s pleasure. Applejack came over and over until she’d passed out, woken to more orgasm, and passed out again, to come awake nestled in Gilda’s forelegs, enfolded in a furry feline embrace. Gilda was so warm.

Applejack nuzzled against Gilda’s feathery chin. “Mmmmm… not bad for an amateur pony.”

The griffin’s voice was slow and sated. “Mmmm. Wiseass. I was your mare all over again and you know it.” She nuzzled back. “So, done with the creepy prey thing?”

Applejack frowned.

“Y’ had YOUR turn,” she said.