A New Landscape by Landscape

 

UPDATED: 11/13/2019

 

>a “hard worker” the website said

>she certainly looked pretty strong

>the picture on the screen showed her at all angles

>certainly looked like the kind of pony who would be able to help you do your landscaping work

 

>so, you splurged

>made the order, spent the money you’d been saving up

>from what you hear, these ponies are pretty hardy

>and in the list of descriptions, you saw “background in agriculture and manual labor”

>and, surprisingly, she was rather cheap to purchase

>that was all you needed to hear

 

>You were surprised when you heard your phone ring so early in the morning

>it was the salesmen notifying you of when they would arrive at your house with your brand new pony you purchased

>11:00 am in the morning

>It was a Sunday, normally your day off to sleep in

>but the news made you excited enough to make it impossible to sleep anymore

>So, you get up and groggily set up your coffee maker

 

>You’ve already planned it out

>You’ve got a guest room that you basically never use

>It’ll be where she can sleep

>and you’ve done your research on what ponies can eat

>obviously, there’s no meat items allowed

>but eggs are surprisingly ok to feed them, however

>so, you bought a few dozen eggs

>got plenty of fresh veggies and fruit

>even some fancy bread

 

>true, you made your wallet cry a little bit

>you do okay for yourself, but you’re not exactly rich either

>but it’s the middle of summer, and there is plenty of landscaping work that you and your company have to do right now

>you make a decent living

>even if it’s tiring work

>hopefully, your little pony will be up to helping out

>you took a bit of a gamble

>you’ll have to see!

 

>Finally, at ten past 11:00, you hear the knock on the door

>a few loud thumps

>then, the doorbell

>You get up from your chair, where you’ve been sitting anxiously for the last half hour

>you dart over, and open the door

 

>on the other side, there’s a short, chubby man

>maybe 5 foot 7

>and in his hand, he’s holding a thick leather leash

>your eyes follow it down, until you clap eyes on her

 

>there she is, the pony that was in the picture

>orange coat

>little white freckles on her cheeks

>emerald green eyes

>blonde mane done up in a ponytail

>it’s definitely the same pony

 

>but then, you notice a few other things

>and the little smile on your face slowly fades away

 

>yeah, her mane is blonde

>but, dirty blonde

>as in, ACTUAL dirt

>And the more you look her over, the more you see how skinny she is

>wiry muscles show themselves, true

>but so do her ribs, protruding faintly through the skin

>you stare at her for a second

 

>and the pony, a soon as she notices you looking at her, very quickly averts her eyes

 

>The chubby man speaks, and you come back to reality

 

“Hello, sir. Are you mister Anon?”

 

>It was a question you knew the answer to

>but it took you a few seconds to answer

>you’re still looking at the pony there on your porch

>and you start to realize why she was so much less expensive to purchase

>eventually, though, you do respond

 

“Uhh… yeah. That’s me.”

 

>The man nods his head, and with one hand tightly grasping the leash, he reaches back and pulls out a clipboard

 

“Right, mister Anon. I’ll just need you to sign and turn in this paperwork and give your signature of ownership. The rest of the information we need was already provided by you online.”

 

>He hands you the clipboard and a pen

>You pick it up, and begin to read

>but your mind still wanders

>and so do your eyes

 

>the orange pony doesn’t look anywhere but the ground

>neck lowered

>it’s like she’s afraid to look at you

 

>your gut churns

>something feels off about this.

>off about her

>but even so, you tentatively sign the papers and hand the clipboard back to the man

 

>He smiles, not showing any teeth

>stretching out his fat cheeks

>and he nods

 

“Very well. Thank you for your business, sir. She’s yours, now. Enjoy.”

 

>He passes the leash over to you

>with a bit of hesitation you take it from him

>He gives you a short, parting wave, and turns around, walking back toward his car

>a shiny black sedan

>with a couple of other chubby men sitting in the passenger and back seats

 

>”Enjoy.”

>That’s what he had said.

 

>you only look for a few seconds before a chill runs up your spine

>you aren’t even sure exactly why

>you look away, and look back down to the pony on your porch

 

>the little thing is a not much less than 5 feet tall, including her head

>she hasn’t budged an inch from where she had been standing

>and she’s still not looking at you

>you look down to the leash in your hand

 

>finally, you shake off the uneasy feelings and speak your first words to her

>”Come on, let’s get you inside…”

 

>You give a very gentle tug on the leash

>she doesn’t speak a word, but her head lifts up momentarily when you pull the leash

>then, she wordlessly takes a step forward through your front door

 

>you walk backwards, watching her closely

>she’s staring at the hardwood floor

>her hooves clop noisily on the hard surface

>the way she walks is a little draggy

>the tips of her petite hooves slightly scraping the floor with each step

 

>and lastly, you notice one more thing about you brand new little pony

>she’s shivering.

>Not the kind of shivering when you’re cold, oh no.

>the kind of shivering someone does when they’re terrified

 

>For a second, the two of you stand there in silence

>and your thoughts begin to race

 

>you let go of the leash

>The pony’s ears perk up, for a moment

>but then they droop back down

 

>the silence is awful

>painfully awkward

>you decide to break it, since this pony is obviously incredibly shy

 

“Hello, I’m Anon. What’s your name?”

 

>You speak with a cordial tone

>trying to lighten the mood

>it doesn’t work

 

>The pony remains silent for a few moments

>she’s staring at the floor

>her hooves are shivering as she stands motionless

>you don’t push her, giving her plenty of time

>and eventually, she answers

 

“I-I’m Applejack, master.”

 

>her voice has a familiar country twang to it

>being down south, it fits right in

>but she says her own name with a wince

 

>however, that’s not the main thing you notice

>did you hear that right?

 

“Uhh… did you just call me ‘master’?

 

>you ask her timidly

>not threatening in any way

>or so you thought

 

>the blonde-maned pony’s eyes grow wide

>she suddenly looks up at you

>and her lip is quivering

>she speaks with a stammer and shortness of breath

 

“Oh, I-I’m real sorry! I didn’t know you w-wanted to be called something else…”

 

>she slinks back a little bit

>flinches away from your gaze

 

>your confusion, however, only magnifies

>so does your worry

>what was the matter with this pony?

 

>brow furrowed, you address her again

 

“Yeaah... you can just call me Anon. Here, how about I just get this collar and leash off of you?”

 

>you take one, cautious step forward

>this pony looks like she’s ready to bolt, the way she’s shying away from you

>you kneel down and gently take hold of the collar

>your fingers gently brush the muscles in her neck

>they are hard as a rock

 

>but you also can see her ribs from close up

>they aren’t bulging out, but you can definitely see them

>you grimace

 

“Hey… are you hungry, Applejack? I’ve got plenty of food for you. Fruits, veggies, greens, eggs…”

 

>you cough to clear your throat

>you fiddle with the buckle on the collar and pull the fabric out of the loop

>once it’s off, you drop it on the floor

>Applejack isn’t responding to you

>so, you ask the question again

 

“Um, Applejack? Do you want lunch?”

 

>You scoot back, and stand up

>but you hunch over and put your hands on your knees

>you try to look her in the face, but she’s not looking back at you

>your mind is going to dark places as you are beginning to piece things together

 

>Finally, she answers

>but it’s not what you anticipated

 

“I-I’m… I’m allowed to eat all of that?”

 

>for the first time since she arrived, she looks up at you

>there’s a tiny glimmer in her eyes

 

>but you must have been giving her a face by accident

>because as soon as she does, she wilts, and turns her head back away from you

>like she’s waiting to be struck

 

>this is when you start to piece things together

>your mind was rejecting it as a possibility before

>you didn’t want to believe it

>but the emaciated look, her demeanor, the pain and fear in her voice

>it all went far beyond shyness

>really, it was the most obvious thing in the world

 

>This pony has been abused.

 

>You are going to have to tread very carefully.

>you don’t want to draw attention to all of those horrible things she must have had to go through

>at least, not yet

>poor thing doesn’t look ready

>so, you simply nod

>and answer her softly

 

“Yes, Applejack. Of course, all of it. I got it just for you.”

 

>rather than wait for her, you decide to go to the kitchen

>the way your house is, there are no walls between the living room and the kitchen

>you open up the fridge and take out a carton of eggs, some cheese, a few handfuls of spinach, and a fresh apple

>put them down on the counter right in front of her

 

“Hey, how about I make you an omelette? Cheese and spinach sound good?”

 

>Applejack is still rather quiet

>but she looks up at the counter, finally managing to peel her eyes away from the floor

>when she sees the ingredients you’ve laid out in front of her, you once again see the spark in her eyes

>just a tad of life in there

>and the tips of her ears twitch upward

>she inhales

 

“Uh… uh huh…”

 

>Good, because you were going to make it anyway

>You don’t waste time getting started.

>you pull out a pan and a bowl

>start heating the stovetop and cracking the eggs into the bowl

>you weren’t exactly a cook, but this was one of those things you could actually make pretty well

>lots of burnt eggs along the way to mastery, though

>you’re going to try extra hard today to make the best dish you can

 

>you look over to her and realize that she’s sitting down on the floor, now

>before, she was just standing there

>bracing herself

>you frown at her sympathetically and point to the living room couch

 

“Hey, you can sit down on the couch and wait if you want, Applejack. Go ahead and make yourself feel at home!”

 

>you talk loudly over the sizzling in the pan

>checking the pan briefly before watching her

>Applejack hears you, and looks over at the sofa

>her emerald eyes widen, and her jaw falls

>she glances over at you, a fearful expression on her face

>but you just smile at her

>and point at the couch again

 

“Go on, it’s ok!”

>Applejack once again looks over at you

>she’s still very tense

>but her expression, slowly, begins to relax

>eventually, she slinks over to the sofa

>and gingerly steps on, sitting down

 

>a few minutes pass, and it’s all done

>and it’s a masterpiece

>you’re so glad you’re able to cook something so good for her

>poor thing looks like she hasn’t had something like this in…

>maybe ever.

 

>you put her plate down on one end of the table and sit down on the other side

 

“Alright, it’s done! Come on and eat up. I think you’ll like it, Applejack.”

 

>you look over the counter, the only thing separating the living room from the kitchen

>you see her still sitting there

>shoulders up straight, not relaxing in the slightest

>but when she hears her name, she seems to automatically get up

>and she walks over to the table with that same drag in her hooves

>but she does what you say like it’s an order

 

>steady now

>you’re going to take your time with her

>it’s only just beginning

 

...

 

>Applejack looks at you warily before she sits down

>with a wince

>you notice, and it makes you raise your eyebrows

>you put the plate with the omelette down in front of her, and a fork

>you don’t know if she uses those things, what with hooves and all

>but you’ll cover all your bases

>not used to this pony stuff yet

 

>you sit down in the seat beside her

>you have a cup of yogurt to eat so that things aren’t as awkward

>so that you aren’t just watching her eat

 

>Applejack stares down at the plate

>her body is still shivering

>she looks like she’s in a trance, under some kind of spell

>you point at the plate

 

“Go ahead, hon. You must be hungry. Right?”

 

>Applejack seems like she refuses to look at you in the eye

>but she, with a little hesitation, responds in the affirmative

 

“Yes… I am, m-mmaster, I mean Anon! Anon….”

 

>she swiftly corrects herself

>she must have suddenly remembered that you wanted her to call you by your name

>Tears spring to her eyes

>she freezes

 

>you see her beginning to panic

>and you’re getting an idea of just how bad her past situation was

>you try to dispel her fears as best as you can

 

“Hold on, hold on, Applejack! It’s alright, I’m not mad at you! Ok? I promise, it’s no big deal!”

 

>Applejack takes a hard, shaky breath

>in and out

>a tear falls down onto the table

>she stammers

 

“I-I’m-m sorry…”

 

“That’s alright, hon. Now, please, just… eat. Ok?”

 

>Applejack nods

>she sniffles, and slowly, she bends her head down

>she takes a mouthful from on end, chews it quietly, and swallows

>then, she looks over at you again

>like she’s seeking approval for the next bite

 

>you feel her sad, fearful gaze as she stares at you

>distrustingly

>you smile gently

>open up your yogurt cup

>point at the omelette with your nose

 

“Go on!”

 

>Applejack gulps, and turns back to her plate

>but then, she does something that surprises you

>she eats much, MUCH more quickly

>not ravenously, but close to it

 

>your hand freezes around your yogurt spoon watching her

>she’s breathing heavily as she eats

>within thirty seconds, the whole thing is gone

>Applejack swallows her last bite, and her ears fold back

 

>you barely pay any attention to your spoon as you eat your yogurt

>Applejack stares at her empty plate

>screw it

>you set your cup down

>you weren’t hungry anyway

 

“Sooo, Applejack… how about I show you your room?”

 

>you get up from your seat

>walk over to her

>she finally follows you with her eyes

>you gesture for her to get up

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get your plate. Come on, follow me…”

 

>Applejack is predictably slow at first

>but she nods her head silently and begins to slide out of her chair

 

>this time, though, you pay close attention to her face

>and she winces again

>you once again see some tears come up in her eyes

>she sets her hooves down at a weird angle

>like she’s angling herself away from you

 

>the alarm bells go off in your head

>something is very wrong

>you bite your lip

>hold up your hand

 

“Uhh… hold up.”

 

>Applejack sucks in air through her nostrils

>tenses up every muscle in her body

>her eyes seem to pop out of her head for a moment

>she looks at the floor by your feet

 

“Applejack… turn around.”

 

>Applejack’s jaw falls

>and you hear a sob leave her

>then, she does something that she hasn’t done in a while

>she looks at you

>right at you, if only for a moment

 

>but she does what you say

>bows her head, and turns around with a sob

 

>when you see it, you bring a hand to your mouth

>she’s trying to cover it with her tail, but it’s futile

 

>all up and down her legs and rear, you see numerous, violet-red stripes

>they stretch across horizontally

>and there’s too many of them to count

 

>all you can do is stare in shock

>And the pony in front of you just quietly sobs

 

>You aren’t sure what to do next

 

>Applejack looks over her shoulder

>tears are collecting on her chin and falling to the floor

>now that she can’t hide it, she is expressing her pain more openly

>and her obvious embarrassment

 

“I-I’m… I’m a good pony, Anon, I promise I don’t, I-I won’t give you any trouble… I swear!”

 

>As she continues talking, you begin to recall when your elementary school class talked about black slavery in the 1800s

>something that sticks out in your mind as you realize what Applejack must believe you are thinking right now

>when a potential buyer saw evidence of numerous whip scars, it was a sign that the slave was rebellious

>it, in turn, decreased their valuation on the market

>made them into a liability

 

>your heart breaks as Applejack looks at you pleadingly

 

“I’ll a-always do what you say, Anon! I’ll obey you…”

 

>that’s it

>you can’t bear to hear any more

>you hold up your hand to gesture for her to stop

>she does, with a whimper

>lowering her ears and head

 

>you take a long, deep breath

 

“Applejack, listen to me, hon. Whatever your old “master” did to you… I ain’t him. I will never, ever be him. Do you understand?”

 

>you do your best to keep your voice under control

>you don’t want to scare her

>but under the surface, you are furious

>those lines, those scars

>they are recent, and terrible

>the skin has even been abraded enough to where there are patches that are shiny

>where the skin’s surface isn’t there anymore

 

>Applejack is crying openly, now

>she responds, almost automatically

 

“Yes, Anon!”

 

>but you can hear in her tone of voice, the fear

>and you get the sense that she wasn’t fully processing what you just said

>like all she heard was “do you understand”

>and she said yes out of fear of further punishment

>you cringe

 

>Applejack flinches when you step toward her

>but her eyes grow wide when you get down on your knees

>you do decide, however, to use her apparent will to obey you to your advantage

>and give her a soft-spoken command

 

“Please, turn around, Applejack. Turn around and look at me.”

 

…

 

>thankfully, she lowers her tail, and turns herself around

>she wavers at looking up at you, but she eventually does do what you ask

>her eyes glisten, a tear tracing a line through the film of dust and dirt on her face

>you stay kneeling

>and very carefully, you extend your hands toward her

>she gasps when you place them below her jaw, and gently lift her face

 

“I will never, ever do what he did to you. What I just said is the honest truth, hon. Whatever horrible things he did to you, that’s all in the past. I’m not going to be like him.”

 

>She looks intently at you

>with those massive, expressive green irises

>you could almost lose yourself in them

>you blink rapidly for a moment, collecting yourself

 

“Tell me if you understand, Applejack.”

 

>Applejack’s face is frozen

>a tear from her cheek drips onto your wrist

>Her mouth is slightly agape

>and it’s clear to you that she’s truly processing what you just told her, this time

 

>faintly, she nods her head

>you can feel her warm exhale on your wrists

>releasing air she had been holding inside of her this whole time

 

>it’s the first sign of her relaxing, even slightly, since you got her here

>you smile at her

>you hope it comes across as warm and welcoming

 

>Applejack doesn’t smile back, but she doesn’t avert her eyes from you, either

>like she has been all those times before

>you can only hope that it isn’t just because you TOLD her to look at you

>Either way, there is new business that you need to attend to

 

>and she isn’t going to enjoy it.

 

>you pull your hands away from her and slowly get up

>Applejack’s head falls a little now that your hands aren’t propping it up

>you really don’t want to say what you’re about to say

>but after seeing those marks on her rear and legs, you can’t put it off

>You bite your lip

 

“Alright. Now, Applejack… those marks are bad, hon. And I don’t want to put you through even more pain, but… we gotta clean those cuts.”

 

…

 

>You wince for Applejack’s sake

>this won’t be pleasant for her

 

>what you just said takes a moment to sink in

>but once it does, the orange pony’s head shoots up

>she fixes you with those huge, glistening eyes once more

>breathes shallowly through her open mouth

 

>you can clearly see the fear making a resurgence on her features

>Her back hooves are shaking a little bit, too

>she’s clearly still in a good deal of pain

>but with a shuddering sigh, she lowers her head at you

>gives a labored nod of her head

>and once more, she seems calm

 

“Y-yes, Anon.”

 

>she sniffs

>wipes a tear

>but she also seems resigned to it all

 

>that’s about as good of a reaction as you could hope for

>so, you’ll get this over with now

>you wave at her, motioning for her to follow you down the hallway

 

“Alright. Let’s get you to the bathtub. Follow me…”

 

----

 

>Applejack is standing stock still in the doorway while you search the bathroom cabinet

>sorting through the crap, you withdraw a fresh new bar of soap, still in the cardboard box

>it’s nothing fancy, but it will get the job done

>you don’t have any of that fancy antibiotic cream or anything

>there’s also a small bottle of rubbing alcohol down there, but you aren’t going to touch that

>you don’t want Applejack’s screams of agony to be heard around the neighborhood

>sure, you use it sometimes on the job when the blade of a shovel or something cuts your hands, but not for something as widespread as this

>poor thing wouldn’t be able to take it.

 

>you pop the bar of cream white soap from the box and turn on the water faucet

>you run your hand beneath it until it is a comfortable lukewarm temperature

>then, you motion to Applejack again

 

“Come on, hon. I’ll help you into the tub.”

 

>Applejack swallows, and slinks into the bathroom with her tail pressed tightly against her leg

>she looks scared, but nothing like the terror that was on her face before

>when she gets close enough, you reach under her front legs, and gently lift her up

 

>holy COW, she’s heavier than you thought she would be

>thankfully, you’re used to lifting heavy bags of sand and hauling wheelbarrows filled with mulch and gravel

>you set her down very carefully into the tub, and make sure she can stand on all four legs before letting go

>you face her rear and hind legs toward the faucet

>water laps up against the fetlocks of her back hooves

>Applejack’s breathing hard, but she’s not resisting you

 

>you wince again when you see the marks

>there are so many of them

>some of the cuts are deeper than others

>and it also doesn’t help that they’re in such a, well, embarrassing area

>the wounds never appear to have been cleaned, as you expected

>they’re dried out a little, but bits of dirt and grime are visible as well

>honestly, her whole body could use a good bath

>but you have to get this sorted first

>have to give everything a thorough rinse with cool water until it’s moist and able to be cleaned

 

>thankfully, you have one of those detachable shower handles with a hose, the kind you can use to wash things up close

>hopefully that will speed things up a little

 

“Ok Applejack, are you ready? I’m going to turn on the showerhead.”

 

>Applejack gasps lightly

>she looks over her shoulder

>takes a long look at the showerhead in your hand

>like she was trying to verify that you really WERE going to do what you said you were doing

>when she sees it, she swallows, and turns back around

 

>She nods her head, and you see her flick her tail away completely

>keeping it off to the side

>She also raises one of her front legs, and braces herself against the opposite wall with it

 

“Y-Yeah. I’m ready, Anon.”

 

>It’s only just occurring to you now, however, how vulnerable Applejack is right now

>you know this has to feel awkward for her

>after all, you can kind of see everything right now

>with a normal animal, you wouldn’t think anything of it

>not even with a normal horse, or a pony

>but a pony that can talk?

>That was different

>certainly more different than you were hoping it would feel.

 

>you push it out of your mind, however, when you realize that you have kept Applejack waiting for nearly ten extra seconds

>so, you jerk the shower diverter on and point it at the bathtub wall

>after all, you don’t want to startle her with a sudden rush of cool water

>you want this to be as comfortable for her as you can make it

 

>the water shoots out with a gurgle and a hiss

>Just from that sound alone, she jumps a little

>but she settles back down quick, exhaling sharply

 

>you start with her right side, working from top to bottom

>that way, everything will all flow down hill, so to speak

>but when the lukewarm jets of water make contact with her damaged skin, Applejack winces audibly

>she bends her bracing leg a little, closing her eyes

>but she isn’t giving you any trouble as you work the water down slowly, watching some of the dirt and grime go down the drain

>you are honestly appalled by how dark the water is beginning to look

>Applejack may very well get an infection if you aren’t thorough enough

 

>you go over the whole right side three times before switching to the other side

>this time, Applejack’s legs and rear tense up, and she hisses from between clenched teeth

>the water pressure must be a little high

>but with how scabbed over some of these marks are, and how much dirt seems to be pressed deeply in, you have to have it that way

 

>all the while, you are making a good effort to avoid the region directly below her tail

>if anything, you have to get that part dead last, and only if she lets you

>and only if you can stomach it

 

>once the regions are rinsed well, you can see the skin beginning to moisten and the marks getting a little bit brighter in color

>the wounds are more open, now, but that also means they’re going to hurt more, too

>but that’s unavoidable

 

>you reach down to the floor of the tub, and pick up the bar of now-lathered soap that you let sit in the pooling water, and grab a washcloth from a hook up on the wall

>now it’s time for the even less pleasant part of this whole debacle

>it’s not rubbing alcohol, but you know that this is still going to sting a lot

>but it has to be done

 

>you lean your head forward

 

“Alright, Applejack. I gotta use the soap, now. You ready?”

 

...

 

>Applejack shivers

>she turns her head, and her eyes lock onto the bar of soap

>she hesitates, but her head nods again

 

“Yes, I-I’m ready Anon.”

 

>then, she lifts up her other hoof, and presses that one against the wall, too

>she hides her head in between her hooves, bracing herself

>you wipe the bar of soap onto the washcloth, and give it a thorough covering layer

>and then, not making her wait any longer, you start again from the top, pressing the soapy cloth deeply into the grooves of each mark

 

“Ah… Ahh, ah! Ow...”

 

>Applejack winces, and a shiver travels up her spine

>She gasps and vocalizes softly into her hooves, but the hard walls echo it around the room

>you have to ignore it

>this is for the best

>you are very methodical, making sure you trace every mark you see

>the suds are turning darker in color, too

 

>Applejack is still holding on, but you can hear her crying softly

>her back hooves sometimes slosh the water when she raises and lowers them, trying to cope with the intense stinging pain

>you once again, however, stay away from the place under her tail and between her legs

>move past it, and slowly progress down her leg

>until the whole surface of her right buttock and thigh is covered in suds

>then, you rinse it all out with lukewarm water once again

 

>a tear or two mixes in with the water in the tub as Applejack holds in sobs

>the poor thing is only halfway done, too

>you rinse out the cloth twice with water, and reapply the soap

>then, you begin working on the other side

 

“Ah! Ow, ow, ahh!”

 

>this time, Applejack is louder than before

>she bends both of her front hooves, like she’s trying to pull her rear end away from you

>you continue cleaning, however, which draws a sob from her throat

 

>you grimace

>lowering your voice, you speak with a tone of gentle understanding

 

“It’s gonna be ok, Applejack. Just stay strong, stay still, you can do it…”

 

>still vocalizing, she gives a small stamp of her left rear hoof

>splashing the water a bit

>trying to do something to help distract herself

>but hearing what you said, she unbends her front legs, and obediently moves back to where she was before

>she mutters out a nearly-whispered apology

 

“S-s-sorry, Anon…”

 

“That’s ok. I’m working as fast as I can, hon.”

 

>It will be over soon.

 

...

 

>You do eventually make it all the way down her leg

>Applejack is trying so hard to stay still, but her legs are shivering and shaking constantly

>but when you start to rinse it all off, she begins to breathe a little easier

>and her muscles relax

>welcoming the cooling jets of water washing over the constant burn of stinging soap

 

>the long slashes across her rump and legs are a different color than they were

>the water finally lost its grayish brown color as it ran down her legs

>you still grimace when you take a long look at the damage

>but at least it can now heal properly, with some heavy bandages and gauze tape

>your work, at least on this part of her body, is finally done

>you smile

 

“Alright, Applejack. That’s the end of that, ok? You did great.”

 

>Applejack nods faintly, but keeps her face hidden in between her hooves, which remain propped up against the wall

>you leave the showerhead running, angling it down

>you rinse off the washcloth again, and reapply the soap for a third time

>business hasn’t concluded just yet, but at least the worst part is finally done...

 

“A...An-non?”

 

>suddenly, you hear Applejack’s voice peep out, that soft country twang of hers coming through once again

>You freeze, holding the washcloth in your hand

>well, that was unexpected

>the first time she’s actually initiated anything with you

>hopefully, this is because she’s starting to trust you, even just a little bit

 

>she also seems aware of the fact that she’s never addressed you before now, too

>her voice cracks with timidity, like she’s expecting you to rebuke her for addressing you first

>the thought that she would be so scared of something as simple as that...

>it honestly makes you furious on the inside

>but you keep your cool

>you’re going to make sure that she knows that initiating conversation is perfectly ok

>so, you reply, very casually

 

“Yes, Applejack? Is everything alright?”

 

>Applejack sniffs through clogged nostrils

>she must have a runny nose after all that crying

>the poor thing

 

>she stammers out what she says next

>this time, she doesn’t even look over her shoulder

>but you can still see part of her face

>and it’s gone from orange to furious, scarlet red

>and the corners of her lips are curled downward in a fearful frown

>she keeps her position, like she isn’t daring to budge unless you tell her it’s ok, first

 

“Are you… are you gonna w-wash me… down there, too?”

 

>Oh shit.

 

…

 

>firstly, you take note of the nervousness in her voice

>it’s very clear that she isn’t asking because she actually WANTS you to

>and to be honest, you were considering not doing it

>she may be a pony, but she’s not some mindless animal

 

>but at the same time, you know that if it were you bathing yourself, you would want that spot cleaned, too

>hell, ESPECIALLY that spot

>but you also don’t want her to feel like you’re violating her

>so, you sigh, and ask her the big question

 

“Well… be honest with me, Applejack. Would you be ok with it?”

 

>you wait for a reply

>Applejack is thinking it through

>glancing in your direction

>you get the sense that she’s feeling you out

>err, so to speak

>trying to figure out if she trusts you enough

>well, she understandably has issues with that, even though you’ve been nothing but nice to her

>you wouldn’t blame her if she said no

 

>and come to think of it, you kind of want her to say no…

 

“I… I am.”

 

>aaand that was not the answer you were expecting

>you can practically feel the static in the air with how awkward the situation just got

>you close your eyes, bite your lips

>And when you open them, her nethers are right there

 

>Applejack says no more

>she’s closing her eyes, too

>but you notice, with a strange, bubbling feeling building in your stomach, that she seems to extend her bracing legs even more

>pushes her rear out, and lowers her front

>and spreads her legs wider

 

>you grip the soapy washcloth in your hand a little tighter

>she’s actually trying to make it easier for you

>you have to say, you never expected to be in a situation like this with her

>but here you are

>you don’t want to do this, really

 

>but at the same time, you find yourself… flattered

>in a really weird way

>only a minute before, she was afraid you were going to hit her for just asking a question

>and now, she trusts you this much?

>quite a huge switch

 

“Well… if you say so. Just… lemme know if you need me to stop. At any time. Ok?

 

>Applejack nods

 

“Yes, Anon. I, I understand.”

 

>good

>as long as she understands that, you’re just okay enough with this whole thing to do it

>you take a moment to overcome your hesitation

>remind yourself that she’s ok with this

>and that it needs to be done

>it needs to be done...

 

>You bunch up the washcloth and pinch it between your four fingers

>angle the softest part outward

>and at last, you press it firmly onto the folds of her most private place

 

>you feel her do a little jolt when you make contact

>but she quickly relaxes

>not hearing a demand for you to stop, you begin to rub the washcloth downward

>pressing down firmly enough to actually do some good

>you don’t scrub back and forth, but rather, you trace a single vertical line in the same direction

>you feel the muscles tensing and contracting beneath your fingers, even through the cloth

>Applejack is breathing hard through her nose

>but she’s not telling you to stop

 

>so you continue

>pushing away… well, any thoughts whatsoever about what you’re actually doing right now

>you cringe when you see the suds, like before, turning darker in color

>it really is more than a little gross, but you feel terrible for Applejack

>having such a part of her body be dirty can’t be comfortable

>listening to her carefully, making sure you aren’t doing anything painful, you begin to focus your attentions on the right fold

>through a thick layer of washcloth, you trace down the outer lip

>that’s when you hear Applejack gasp

 

“Ah…”

 

>your hand stops dead in its tracks

 

“You alright, hon?”

 

...

 

>Applejack’s ribs rise and fall rapidly

>she’s trying to keep her breathing under control

>trying to keep quiet while you do your work

>she nods

 

“Y-yes, Anon, I’m fine. It’s just… it’s real sensitive.”

 

>you frown

>the air around you feels charged

>so tense

 

“Like… in a painful way, orr…”

 

>She shakes her head, this time

>and exhales sharply

 

“N-no, the… other way...”

 

>Oh.

 

“Oh.”

 

>Applejack’s back shivers, but she remains exactly where she is

>meanwhile, you’re not sure what to do, now

>you were kind of hoping that this would be one of those unpleasant things that you do and get over with, and hopefully forget about

>I mean, you’re glad she’s not in pain and all

>but you’d almost prefer a little more of that, over…

>fuck, this is so awkward.

>Fuck.

 

“So… do you want me to stop, or…”

 

>Applejack sighs

>her tail twitches

>then, she shakes her head

 

“No, no… no, Anon. It’s ok.”

 

>well, at least she doesn’t sound TOO enthusiastic

>after all, you need to clean her, not… stimulate her.

>damn, you should’ve just said no

 

“If you’re sure, Applejack… I’m gonna keep going, ok?”

 

>she says nothing

>whatever

>you push your thoughts aside once more and, with the same diligence as before, you finish scrubbing the right side

>Applejack fortunately doesn’t seem to make much noise as you trace down the left side of her nethers

>scrubbing it kind of like how you would wipe the dust from a guitar string

>luckily, your efforts do not seem to be pointless

>she’s definitely getting cleaner

 

>now, for the final part

>you bunch up the washcloth once again, and flatten your fingers inside of it

>and, swallowing, you begin to clean the inner folds

>it’s the last part, thank God

>you feel like a total perve, but you don’t linger long

 

>but Applejack is feeling it, for sure

>her right rear leg twitches, sloshing in the water some more

>she gives a gasp, and for just a short moment, her vocal chords crack

>as soon as that happens, it’s out with your hand

 

>once you pull it away, you swear that you can see her rump move back

>jutting out even more, like it’s following the direction of your hand

>but she pulls it back a second later

 

>you pick up the showerhead again, which has been idly shooting water all over the floor of the bathtub

>and you rinse the whole spot, making sure that every single sud is washed away

 

>as soon as the water hits, though, Applejack makes the loudest sound yet

>like a hiccup, but sharper

>you decide that you aren’t going to ask

 

>but then, something happens that draws your full attention

>at the bottom of her nethers, right at the tip of her vagina, a pinkish red spot suddenly pops out

>goes back in

>then pops back out again

 

>it keeps doing this, over and over again

>you aren’t sure what to make of it

>but it’s not like you’re going to ask your new pony what it is, either

>”Hey, what’s wrong with your vagina?”

>Jesus H. Christ…

 

>once you stop rinsing her, however, it stops

>and Applejack’s whole body does a little lurch forward

>a harsh exhale leaves her, a pent up breath that hadn’t been released until now

 

>and so concludes the most awkward situation you have ever been in all your life

>both for you and, probably at least, for Applejack

>you give the washcloth and extra thorough rinse, this time before you reapply the soap

>you speak softly to Applejack, but still loudly enough to be audible over the background hiss of water

 

“Alright, hon, we’re done with that. Now, I know you’re probably sick of standing there so long, but I’m just gonna get the whole rest of you now, ok?”

 

>Applejack huffs and puffs

>you notice out of the corner of your eye, that the thing pop in and out of her mare folds, again

>but she answers you right away

 

>Yes, yes An-non, I… I’ll stay right here, Anon.”

 

>good, you think

>she’s still cooperating, just like she always has been

>even though you just basically fondled her

>glad she’s so understanding

>but you can’t help but give a little chuckle when you realize that she’s still in the same, bent over position

>you clear your throat

 

“Um, hey Applejack… you can just stand up regular, now, hon.”

 

>her reaction is a little bit priceless

>she gasps, redness on her face

>starts to scramble

>it’s a little difficult to do in a slippery tub, but she manages to put her front hooves back down and bring her back legs together

>she starts to stutter, retracing her words

 

“Oh, I uh… yes, Anon, yes, I-I’m just… just gimme just a s… sorry, Anon…”

 

“That’s alright, hon. Now, just do what you’ve been doing, and let me work. You’re going to be clean as a whistle by the time I’m done!”

 

>with a little blush on her face, she simply nods wordlessly

>she gives a little smile, even though it fades shortly afterward

 

>it’s the happiest expression you’ve ever seen her make.

 

>with determination, and breathing a sigh of relief, you get to work.

 

…

 

>it still felt a little awkward, you won’t lie

>but bathing the rest of her, after THAT, felt like nothing

>when you finally finish rinsing her off, her orange coat looks a lot like it did in the picture

>bright, smooth, and soft

 

>unfortunately, washing her also reveals some other things

>a mixture of things you hadn’t noticed before, and things that were covered up before

>smaller, shallower scars scattered over her frame, as well as a good number of bruises

>this pony’s former master…

>you’d like to wrap your hands around his neck

 

>you dry her off, but take care not to touch her rear and thighs

>you don’t want pieces of fabric finding their way into the wounds

>that’s just going to have to drip dry

>you leave her for a moment, and search the bathroom cabinet again

>you find some gauze, but you give a low groan when you realize that it isn’t going to be enough

>you also don’t have any medical tape

>jesus, you probably should have checked that BEFORE you deep cleaned her… everything

>you’re in a bit of a pickle right now

>there’s a pharmacy only a five minute drive away from your house

>but you can’t take Applejack with you

>there’s no way

>you don’t want those scars to be seen in public

>and besides, you aren’t going to let her go anywhere at all while those things aren’t covered up

 

>but you can’t just leave her here at home, either

>not without supervision, that is…

>or… can you?

 

>you try to find another way, but it’s starting to become clear

>you’re probably making a huge mistake

>but you can’t see how else you’re going to do this

 

>you fix Applejack with a serious stare

>she’s not looking directly at you at first, but when she notices you staring at her, she jerks her head sideways to look back at you

>that instant, she folds her ears back

>and she seizes up

 

>you show her the half-used roll of gauze

 

“Hey, hon. I just checked the cabinet to get you some dressing for the wounds on you, but… I don’t have what I need.”

 

>Applejack’s face, steadily, relaxes a bit

>when she hears your tone of voice, you think she realizes that you aren’t cross with her

>jeez, your stare must have been angry looking

>you’ll have to work on that

>ahem

 

“So… I’m gonna have to go up to the store and get some stuff. It’s only five minutes away. So, Applejack…”

 

>you point at the placemat below her hooves

 

“I’m gonna need you to stay put while I’m gone. Ok?”

 

>Applejack, her face timid and fearful before, suddenly goes blank

>looks at you with this expression of “wait, what?”

>but she glances down at the placemat

>and when she looks back at you, she nods resolutely

 

“Yes, Anon. I won’t leave this spot, I promise.”

 

>you hear her enthusiasm

>or… whatever it is

>come to think of it, you honestly don’t doubt her, either

>poor thing probably still thinks you’ll take a belt to her or something if she moves

>but you’ll use her irrational fear to your advantage this time

 

>you nod back at her, and smile

 

“Ok, good. Thank you, Applejack. I’ll be back very soon, don’t worry!”

 

>you wave goodbye, and close the door slowly

>she doesn’t wave back

>but that’s ok.

>you know she’s going to be ok.

 

…

 

>your truck is a piece of shit.

>no really, it’s fucking garbage

>the whole back seat section is filled with half-empty bags of organic fertilizer, hardwood mulch, stone fragments, old fast food bags, a toolbox…

>you’re pretty sure Applejack would get an infection just being near this thing

>whatever happens, you made the right call

 

>you arrive at the pharmacy

>it takes you five minutes by itself just to find the stuff

>damn, gauze is expensive

>so is special first aid tape

>but it’s worth every penny if it means you can help this poor pony out

>fuck it, you get a tube of antibiotic ointment, too

>you really hope it won’t sting

>but you have to keep the region moist

>otherwise, the scars won’t heal as well or as quickly

 

>you make a beeline to the car once you’ve paid for them

>plastic bag in your hand

>you hop in the driver’s seat and toss the bag in the passenger’s side

 

>you back up quickly, in a hurry to get home…

 

>and then, you see a flash of headlights from behind and to the right of you

>which is followed by a thundering CRUNCH of metal

>And your head jerks to the side, before whiplashing back the other direction

 

>it takes a moment for it to sink in what just happened

>you sit there, hands gripping the wheel

>white knuckled

>and then, once you understand what just occurred, you swear

>loudly

 

“FUCK! FUCKING, FUCK GOD DAMN IT, SHIT PISS FFFFUCK!”

 

...

 

 

>the police were slow to the scene

>you told the guy driving the other truck that he could have your info, and he could back with you

>it was your fault, after all

>but nooo, he had to get the police

 

>well, you had looked over to his truck

>and you sighed with relative relief when you realized that it’s a piece of shit, too

>and the damage is quite minor

>at least your payment out of pocket wouldn’t be TOO exorbitant

>you hope

>but your premium is gonna go up, for sure

>damn it, you really wanted to save up some more spending money from your jobs this summer

>but life gives you lemons, and all that shit

 

>the dent from tonight honestly blends in with the rest of your jalopy

>you’re just glad you can drive home

 

>you check your watch

>and swear again

>it’s been almost two goddamn hours

>you told her it would take you what, five minutes? Ten minutes there and back?

>this is horrible.

 

>You rush to the front door, fumbling with the keys

>you just hope Applejack hasn’t thought the worst

>you hope she’s still there…

 

>you throw the door open and jog inside, heading right for the bathroom with the plastic bag of gauze and cream in your hand

 

“Applejack! I’m back, hon, I’m back! I’m so sorry...”

 

>You reach the bathroom door

>you see that it’s still closed

>you turn the knob and slam it open

 

“Ah! AHH! Ah…”

 

>and there she is

>lying down on the placemat on the floor

>or, at least, she WAS lying down

>but she jolts awake when the door swings open

>practically jumps in the air, and thumps into the wall of the bathtub behind her

>her sharp, terrified scream echoes around the bathroom

>and it’s soon followed by heavy, labored breathing

 

>she stares up at you with her pupils wide as saucers

>her ears pin down on her head, and she seems to try and melt into the bathtub wall

 

>well, now you feel like an idiot

>you had to just crash into the room, didn’t you?

>it’s not like the poor thing wasn’t already scared enough

>you quickly get down on one knee, and hold the bag forward, toward her cowering frame

 

“Hey, hey, it’s me, Applejack! It’s Anon!”

 

>you reach into the plastic bag and pull out the gauze, tape, and tube of cream

>you set them down at your feet, right in front of her

>then, you stick the bag in the trash can

>all the while, you’re looking at her

>taking in the fear you see in her eyes

>it’s heartbreaking

>you try to calm her down

 

“See? I got the stuff. I’m gonna be able to get your marks covered up, now. Applejack?”

 

>she looks like she’s in a bit of shock

>her eyes are still huge, but at least she’s not heaving as much

>then, as the seconds tick by, you finally see her release the tension in her muscles

>you also see a few tears spill right out of her eyes and plop onto the tile floor

 

>you keep talking to her, making sure your voice is calm, clear, and soft

 

“I’m sorry, so sorry I took so long, hon. I just… I got into a car accident. It wasn’t a big one, but I had to wait for the police, and… gosh, I’m so sorry, Applejack.”

 

>she makes no reply other than a sniffle

>she covers up her face partway with her hoof

>she begins to whisper something, but she closes her mouth before scarcely a syllable gets out

 

>you lean your head forward

 

“Applejack? What is it, hon?”

 

…

 

>she shivers

>continues to face the wall

 

“I-I thought… you were mad, c-cuz I was sleeping…”

 

>she stutters, and squirms uncomfortably

>you shake your head, gritting your teeth together

>your heart aches just hearing that

 

“Oh, no, no, Applejack! Why would I get angry over something like that? Besides, I’m the one who left you here for two hours… and I’m really sorry I slammed that door open, ok? I know it must have startled you.”

 

>Applejack finally dares to look at you

>you try to give her a warm smile

>hope to calm her down, make her realize you aren’t going to hurt her

 

>and, for once, it seems to work

>she lowers her hoof, showing the rest of her tearstained face

 

>now that she has calmed down, you pick up the gauze, tape, and antibiotic cream

>she looks at your hands warily, but seems to know that whatever it is, it’s going onto her

>god, you really hope this cream doesn’t burn…

 

“Ok, hon. I’m gonna need you stand up and stay still for me, ok?”

 

----

 

>it’s a lot harder to apply all of this stuff than you you thought it would be

>thankfully, the antibiotic cream doesn’t sting when you put it on

>Applejack still braced herself against the wall anyway, though

>she actually seemed a little surprised when she realized that it didn’t hurt when you applied it

>poor girl probably thought you were going to make even more pain for her

 

>wrapping the gauze around her rump and affixing it on both of her flanks with the tape wasn’t easy, either

>you had to avoid putting gauze over either of her private spots, so you did vertical strips of gauze beside them instead

>once you got down to her legs, it was a lot less awkward, though

>it kind of looks weird once you’re finished

>but hey, it got the job done

>all finished, now

>now, it just needs to heal

 

>you put away what’s left of the cream, tape, and gauze under the bathroom sink

>then, you scoot yourself around to get a better look at her face, which is hidden between her hooves

>she’s still bracing herself

>you clear your throat

 

“Ok, Applejack. It’s all done.”

 

>she lifts up her head, and sighs deeply

>then, this time without you having to remind her, she takes her hooves off the wall

>stands up straight

>you smile

 

“You did great, hon. Thank you so much for cooperating all this time, even though I know it hurt a lot…”

 

>she nods her head, and bows it down

>she’s still not looking directly at you, but she does turn her body a little bit

>facing the corner to your right

 

>it suddenly occurs to you that she never seems to look right at you

>barely a glance every now and then, but that’s it

>unless you tell her to, that is

>you’ll have to work on that later

>for now, you have to tell her a few things

>and you might as well tell her to look at you while you say them

 

“Hey, look at me for a minute, hon.”

 

>Applejack’s eyes get bigger for a moment, and her ears twitch

>but, just like every other time you’ve told her to do something, she does it with little hesitation

>you stay kneeling, not wanting to tower over her in a domineering way

 

“Good. Now, those scars are going to take time to heal, ok? So, I need you not to touch those bandages, be very careful if you want to sit down, and not exert yourself too much, ok? Those bandages need to stay on.”

 

>you give her the instructions with a level voice

>firmly enough, but there’s no need to “hammer it in”

>she does nothing less than try her best to remember everything you told her

>sure enough, she replies in a grave tone

 

“Yes, Anon. I understand.”

 

>you inwardly fist pump

>well, now that’s settled

>this long, horribly awkward cleaning session is over

>and now, you’re gonna help this mare out in any way that you can

>you can’t wait for what you’re going to show her next

>even the thought of the car accident only hours before seems to fade in your mind

 

>you wave her toward you

>she understands the silent gesture, and approaches you, but stays at a distance

 

“Ok, Applejack. Let me show you your new room!”

 

------

 

>It’s right down the hall

>conveniently close to the bathroom

>it’s not a big room, and not a big bed

>but somehow, you doubt that will be a problem

 

>Applejack follows you at a short distance, maybe two feet

>so when you open the door to her room, she doesn’t automatically go in

>you have to point inside

 

“Come on, take a look!”

 

>Applejack purses her lips together, and nods silently

>she slinks up to you, standing on the other side of the doorway, watching you closely

>jeez, it’s like she’s expecting you to kick her if she fails some kind of test you’re giving her, or something

>you take a step back and give her all the room she needs

 

>she steps into the doorway

>and freezes

 

>you look down at her

>the seconds tick by

>and holy cow, she’s still not moving

 

>eventually, you see her front legs shake

>you’re about to say something, ask her if something is wrong

>you even look in the room with her

>half expecting some horror you weren’t aware of to be residing in the room

>I mean, you haven’t used this room in a while, so…”

 

“I… have a bed?”

 

>she asks the question in a mutter

>barely above a whisper

>she chokes on the word “bed”

 

>your heart flutters in your chest

>god, this hurts...

>you nod

 

“Yes, Applejack. It’s all yours!”

 

>she continues to stand there

>and stare

>and stare…

>just… in shock

>She hiccups

 

“But… I haven’t done anything yet…”

 

>she sounds so surprised

>and now, you can’t help smiling

>but that smile quickly turns into a grimace

>she’s so shocked that she gets to sleep in a bed…

 

>thinks she has to “earn” something so basic

>something you take for granted

 

>something happens to you

>you have an urge to do something that you were hesitant to do before

>Applejack is standing right next to you

>your hand is right there behind her head

 

>you bite your lip

>tense your whole body, hoping she won’t freak out

 

“It’s alright, hon.”

 

>you reach out, and put your hand on her head

>as expected, she tenses up

>gasps

>and her eyes dart over to you for an instant

>but you don’t withdraw your hand

 

>instead, you slowly brush over her mane with your hand, down the length of her neck

>feel her vertebrae faintly sticking out through her skin

>you wince, but you don’t stop

>you pet her several more times

>and she doesn’t move

 

>but then, something happens that chills your blood

>you’ll never forget it

 

“Ohh… I understand, An-non, I… wh-where do you want me?”

 

>your hand stops mid pet

>this time, you don’t just think it

>it slips out of your mouth in a low whisper

 

“Oh… oh shit…”

 

------

 

>Applejack heard you.

>You feel her muscles twitch under her skin as she angles her ears in your direction

>when you pull your hand away, she turns her head

>a worried look on her face

 

>you hold up your hands and take a step back

>shaking your head

>you take a deep breath with eyes closed, holding your head in your hands

 

“Uhh, Applejack… I just… what…”

 

>somehow, this is the biggest bombshell yet

>even bigger than when you saw the scars across her rear and legs

>does she really mean…

 

>it gets more unbelievable

>Applejack turns around after a second of hesitation

>you hear her hoofsteps as she rotates around to face you

>then, she speaks

 

“Oh, I-I understand, m-master Anon, I… the bandages…”

 

>you hear her take a step forward

>slowly, your eyes open up, but not before you feel something that jerks you to a state of alertness

>something tugs the fabric on your pants, and then, you hear the sound of your zipper being pulled down

>heart stopping, you look down to see Applejack right there, the head of the zipper in her teeth

 

>you can’t help how your respond

>if you could do a redo, you would

>but your hands, formerly behind your head, fly down

>and sharply, you swat her snout

 

“GAH! Applejack! No, no!”

 

>you flinch as soon as your hand connects

>Applejack’s teeth come off of your zipper

>she yips, and her eyes go cross for a brief moment

>you didn’t hit her hard, but when she stumbles back, you know you didn’t have to

>you stand there in shock, reeling back yourself

 

>Applejack, thanks to the swat to her nose, has fresh new tears welling up in her eyes

>she covers her snout with a hoof

>and looks shamefully down at the ground

 

“I, I-I’m sssorry, Anon, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I thought… I’ll t-turn around…”

 

>you can only stare in disbelief when she turns around and raises her tail

>and lowers the front of her body to the floor

>your mouth gapes open, and you start furiously shaking your head

>a loud shout preparing to escape your throat

 

>Applejack looks over her shoulder, at you

>through her teary eyes

 

“I can bend over the b-bed, mas--”

 

“APPLEJACK, STOP!”

 

-----

 

>the whole house falls completely silent

>yet, it seems like your command is echoing around the hallway

 

>Instantly, before another word could get out, Applejack stopped

>and you can see her muscles bulge with tension

>she cringes like she’s just been kicked, and her tail clamps down over her privates

>you stare down at her with your jaw slackened

 

>there are tears in your eyes when you see her expression

>such fear

>a look that implores you about what she’s done wrong

>You bite your lips and calm yourself down from your outburst

 

>Applejack is still bent over

>her chin and cheek pressed against the carpet

>she won’t move

 

>So, you’re going to have to make her.

>it’s for her own good

>keeping your voice level, you address her after almost a minute of silence has passed

 

“Applejack, hon… stand up. Stand up, and turn around.”

 

>as usual, you don’t have to tell her twice

>her legs quiver, obviously sore from maintaining such an uncomfortable position

>but she does what you say

>however, you didn’t tell her to look at you

>so, she doesn’t, opting to gaze at the floor

 

>you don’t even know how to respond

>all you had done was pet her

>shown her some much-needed affection

>you never thought it would have led to this.

 

>you can tell Applejack is trying valiantly not to break down

>there is a small red spot on her nose where you bopped her

>you almost apologize, but you decide against it at the last second

>it was disturbing how fast she had worked your fly down

>you note, with a grimace, that she has obviously done it before

>you had to stop her right away, and besides, you didn’t actually hurt her

>no blood was dripping out of her nose, thank goodness...

 

>her soft voice, nearly a whisper, reaches your ears and pulls you out of your thoughts

 

“Master Anon, I---I’m so sorry, p-please---”

 

>you can’t hear any more of this

>it’s too much

>you cut her off right away, holding up your hand

 

“No, no. No, just… just stop, Applejack. Please. I’m not mad, I-I… just… just come here, hon. Come here.”

 

>you speak with as much softness as possible

>hold out your hand like you have something it it

>beckoning her toward you

>you even get down on one knee

 

>Applejack looks at you with terror in her eyes

>but despite herself, she takes the first, shivering step in your direction

>blinking rapidly, breathing heavily

>a tear falls like a rock to the floor

>but slowly, she approaches your outstretched hand

 

>you swallow hard

>there are no words you can think to say right now

>so, you’re going to do something else, instead

>you’re not going to say a word

 

>Applejack lowers her head in submission, and places it beneath your hand

>and that’s when you make your move

 

>you lean forward, both arms outstretched

>and then, clasping down tightly, you hug her around her shoulders

>and pull her into you

 

>the tension you feel in her entire body is unreal

>hard as stone

>you feel her jump in place when your arms wrap around her

 

“Ahh! Ah, ah…”

 

>you briefly feel her body jerk backward

>but just for a moment

>then, gradually, you feel her settle more into you

>her warm breath tickles your back, even through your t-shirt

>her head is perched on your shoulder

>then, you move one of your hands up to the top of her head

>and laying it into her silk-like mane you cradle her head

 

>you press your cheek against the side of her neck

>it feels so much like a normal horse

>you close your eyes, and at last, words make their way onto your tongue

>And then, hugging her tighter, you say them

>words that you never would have dreamed you would ever say, to anyone

 

“I’m not going to rape you.”

 

>you grasp the hairs of her mane in between your fingers

>and you dare to pet her head again

>her coat still smells like fresh soap from your bath

>you hold her close, and begin to rock her from side to side

 

>Applejack sniffles, and you feel her chest heave

>you continue stroking her mane, and repeat yourself in whispers

>she slowly starts to relax, and you feel just the slightest give in the skin of her neck

 

“I’m not going to rape you, alright? I’m not going to rape you. I’m…”

 

>then, it happens

>a sob

>you feel it wrack her body in your hold

>then another

>a hot teardrop falls onto your back, and seeps through the fabric of your shirt

>and her body, formerly tense as a coiled spring, begins to melt into your arms

 

>suddenly, you feel her weight pressing against you

>she goes limp, and several sobs escape her

>she’s pushing you backward, but you brace yourself on one knee and bear her weight

>in between cries, she tried to get something out

 

“I… I-I… I…”

 

>then, it all breaks loose

>she loses it, completely

>what can only be described as a broken wail leaves her throat

>her howls echo up and down the hallway

>tortured cries, the result of so much anguish for so long, come flooding out

 

>you don’t say a word.

>you press yourself deeper into her body, and keep her secure

>and her cries go on and on.

 

-------

 

>you sit in your chair

>rotating a half empty bottle of beer in your hands

>a small lamp is the only thing lighting the room

 

>it’s getting late, but you can’t sleep

>Applejack, on the other hand, had no trouble

>the poor pony had exhausted herself from crying so hard, for so long

>you don’t even know if she really felt it when you picked her up and tucked her into her new bed

>you were very careful to lay her on her side, and make sure that her damaged rear was not taking any of her weight

>and that was that.

 

>You had to go to work tomorrow.

>Not only that, but your line of work meant that you had to get up early

>you had to meet with your other four employees before you all drove to the work site

>you also had to go up the stone sales center and get another pallet of stone because you were close to running out

>it was a big patio, after all

>and you were already running behind

>you were hoping that your new pony would be able to pitch in some help

>you’d show her the ropes, give her some simpler jobs to start out

>make sure she knew what she was doing

>but now…

 

>You couldn’t take her up to the work site in this condition

>Her hindquarters were whipped to hell, her body was thin, her mind…

>well, that was in the worst shape of all.

>but could you possibly leave her here? All alone, for hours?

>you almost think you should admit her to a hospital

>but you really won’t have much money to spare until you can finish this patio job

>and with the car accident, you know your premium is going to increase a ton

 

>you don’t know what to do.

>this had been such a bad idea…

>no. No it hadn’t.

>Applejack had been through hell before she came to you

>you saved her

>you saved her life.

 

>and you know, it’s starting to occur to you

>you’d left her in the same place for two hours

>on a damn bathmat

>and she hadn’t moved

>she hadn’t done anything to your house

>in fact, she’d done exactly what you said

>which only makes sense…

 

>you don’t want to do it, but you’re going to have to wake her up early

>she needs sleep, but you don’t want her to wake up and find you totally gone

>you thought of leaving a note, but that wouldn’t be ideal

 

>you drain the rest of your beer and get up

>it’s getting late, and maybe you’ll be able to fall asleep eventually

>you don’t take sleeping pills, because they make it almost impossible to get up the next morning

 

>two hours later, after tossing and turning and nearly throwing your blanket right off the bed, you finally drift to sleep.

 

-----

 

>the beep of your alarm rips you out of your slumber

>with a sharp breath, you roll over and slap the top of the clock, and the beeping ceases

 

>you actually look at the clock, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you still had 30 minutes left or something

>but you don’t

>you groan

 

>back to the old grind.

 

>you roll out of bed and walk groggily to the bathroom

>yawning loudly

>the light stings your eyes when you flip the switch

>as usual, you splash some cold water on your face

>it wakes you up

>at least, sort of

>then, you leave the light on and enter the hallway again

>you’re going to whip up some breakfast...

 

>you know, you really might have forgotten

>you were so groggy that you actually may have forgotten about the pony you had put to bed last night

>but lucky for you, when you exit the bathroom, she makes it impossible

 

>she’s standing right there, at the other end of the hall

>looking right at you

>the light coming out of the bathroom reflecting off of her huge, emerald green eyes

 

>you freeze in place

>practically stop mid yawn

>she points her nose at the floor, but angles her eyes up at you

 

“G-good morning, master Anon.”

 

------

 

>The two of you meet eyes, and stare for a long while

>all you can really see well at first was the light gleaming off of her eyes

>but the rest of her comes into the picture as your eyes adjust to the dark

 

>you tilt your head in surprise

 

“Oh. Well, hey. You’re… already up.”

 

>you rub your eyes and lean against the wall

>Applejack nods her head, and stands up straighter

 

“Yes, Master Anon. The sun was just starting to go up.”

 

>she almost sounds like a soldier

>talking to her superior officer, or something

>you furrow your eyebrows and chuckle under your breath

>and yawn again

 

“Oh. So, is that when you, you know, normally get up?”

 

>It’s a basic question

>you didn’t intend to communicate anything other than what you asked

>but you underestimate her nerves

 

>She lowers her head, and her posture slumps

>then, she asks you a question with a significantly diminished tone

 

“I’m sorry, di-id you want me up earlier? I haven’t done any work yet, I’m s…”

 

>She trails off

>and suddenly, it’s back to yesterday’s grind

>you take your leaning arm off of the wall, and shake your head at her

 

“No, no, Applejack. Relax, ok? Take a deep breath.”

 

>As usual, she takes your request as a demand

>breathes in deeply, and exhales deeply

>stops herself mid-sentence

>when it appears she has calmed down, you continue

 

“Well, if I’m honest, Applejack, I was going to let you sleep as long as you wanted this morning. I have to go to work early in the morning, and I was going to leave you a note letting you know where I was and letting you know what food I have for you to eat.”

 

>Applejack listens to you intently

>but as you talk, you can see one of her eyebrows rising up in confusion

>she looks down at your feet, appearing to contemplate what you’ve just said

 

“Oh, uh… yes, Anon. But-”

 

>she seizes up a bit

>you notice her look up at you as soon as the last word leaves her lips

>like she’s expecting you to rebuke her for talking back

>well, you’re going to clear that up right now

 

“Go on, hon, what is it?”

 

>Applejack seems to relax at your gentle tone

>she licks her lips

>and takes a step back

 

“I just… what work do you want me to do, Anon?”

 

>well, this is getting a little bit complicated

>you were planning on telling her yesterday why she was here

>why you purchased her in the first place

>but the whole everything yesterday had been such a clusterfuck you never got the chance.

>Now, you had to explain it all early in the morning

>damn, this week isn’t starting off well

 

“Ehh, it’s… a little complicated right now, hon. Don’t worry, I’ll have work for you to do, I will, it’s just… I can’t let you work in this state. Your rear end needs to heal, and you need to gain some weight back before I can let you work with me and my team.”

 

>You watch her face closely

>every word you say, for some reason, seems to be worrying her more

>she stammers, falls silent, but then begins to say something back in reply

 

“I can work, Master, I can work. I can pull, I can carry, I can push…”

 

“I’m sure you can, Applejack. But now, you need to get rest. There is no way you’re going to be working while those cuts are still healing. This stuff is good, hard work, and I’m not having you get injured or having your cuts start weeping again. Ok?”

 

>You wait for her typical “Yes, Anon, master sir your highness”

>but surprisingly, this time, there’s quite the delay

>she’s silently pondering everything to herself

 

>she licks her lips again, and her brow forms a V shape in between her eyes

 

“I-I… Anon, I…”

 

>ok, you really don’t have time for this

>if she’s going to be so obedient, you’re going to just have to keep on taking advantage of it when it’s for her own good

 

“No, Applejack. Stop. There’s no discussion here. What I said is final, and I don’t want to hear any more. Ok?”

 

>wow, you sounded a little harsh

>but you have to get going

>you haven’t even gotten your coffee going, yet…

 

>The expression Applejack makes is a pretty drastic change

>she communicates with her eyes low to the ground that she knows she’s overstepped her bounds a bit

>Shrinks back

>but she nods, and says no more on the matter.

 

“Yes, Anon.”

 

-----

 

>Applejack is quiet for the next ten minutes

>she gingerly sits down at the table on a pillow-padded chair as you sip your coffee, absentmindedly eating your eggs

>she eats the breakfast you’ve laid out in front of her, but very slowly

>she looks around the dimly lit room

>you glance back and forth between your steaming mug, the clock on the wall, and the pony across the table from you

 

>there’s a dejected look on her face

>a certain cloudiness in the whites of her eyes

>you poke the yolk of one of your eggs and watch it run out over the plate, but you don’t eat

>watching her is making you lose your appetite

 

“Hey, Applejack. You ok, hon?”

 

>the lack of delay when she nods her head at you is surprising

>she bites her lip, and stands back on her hooves

 

“Yes, A-Anon, I’m fine. I’m ok.”

 

>her posture changes

>shoulders are broader, head held higher

>legs straight

>like you’ve snapped her out of something

 

>but then it hits you

>she’s still trying to get you to change your mind

>put on the air that she’s ready to work.

>She dare not ask you again, you know

>but she’s a smart girl.

 

>still, you can’t.

>even though, for whatever reason, it’s killing her spirits

>the pony needs rest and rejuvenation

>and the injuries she’s sustained don’t mix with dirt, sand, and stone dust

>you shake your head

 

“Look, hon. I know you said you want to work, and I’m very happy to see you eager. The team and I could really use the help. But you can not, I repeat, can NOT work yet. I’m sorry, but that’s what has to happen. Ok, Applejack?”

 

>She folds her ears back, and her shoulders slump

>every new word makes her shrink down even more

>but she nods anyway

 

“Yes, Master Anon. I… so I will work, though?”

 

>you puff air through your nostrils in a slight laugh

>you drop your fork onto the plate

>and give a good natured roll of your eyes, smiling

 

“Yees, Applejack. I promise. I promise you’ll have plenty of work to do once you’ve healed up and you don’t look as skinny. And you can start by eating your breakfast now, ok? I mean, is everything on your plate alright?”

 

>you honestly aren’t mad

>just perplexed, and maybe a bit amused

>well, you don’t have to worry about work ethic whatsoever

>more than can be said than for a couple of your own guys

>you lean your head in your hand

 

>Applejack pauses and eyes her plate

>then she takes a little mouthful of her scrambled eggs

>she chews, swallows, and nods her head

 

“It’s good, Anon. Thank you.”

 

“Good. I’m glad. I made sure there weren’t any shells in it.”

 

>that gets a tiny smile out of her

>it disappears right away, but you notice

>and then, you smile

 

>another minute passes, and now you’re starting to think

>she wants to work, that much is true

>and you are going to have to leave her here alone for at least this week

>and it’s not like there’s an abundance of things to do

>and actually, even though you live here, when you are sick yourself, you get a little stir crazy, too.

 

>alright, Applejack. You win… sort of.

>you sigh, take the last bite of your breakfast, and get up

>Applejack flinches, and stares up at you now

 

>she watches you nervously as you open the drawer of your small end table

>a low stammer escapes her

 

“M-Master Anon?”

 

>you pull out a piece of paper, a pen, and tap your chin

>then, you begin to write

 

“Ok, Applejack. You may not be able to work with me now, but I’m going to write a list of things for you to do, right here at home. Ok?”

 

…

 

>paying close attention to her facial expression, you notice her ears perk up and angle towards you with intrigue

>her nervous frown fades

>you don’t know if she thought you were going to pull something else out of the drawer, or what

>you don’t know what’s going through her head

>it takes you a minute or two to think of enough things to put up on the list

>by the time you’re done, you have five things

>a few of them are minor things that you just have there to keep her busy if that’s what she wants

>the fifth, however, you added with an asterisk next to it

>there’s some dirt involved

 

>You pick up the piece of paper and walk over to where Applejack is standing

>then, you rotate the list in front of your chest so that it’s facing her

 

“Alright. Now, Applejack, here’s a list of some of the things that could be done around here. I’m not home all that much lately because of all the work I have to do, but with you here… maybe this stuff can finally get done.”

 

>you point at the first item and work your way down

>Applejack is listening very attentively

>paying close attention to every single word with wide eyes

 

“First, there’s the kitchen floor. It needs some sweeping, but I’ve got a broom and dustpan in the pantry. It’s on the bottom shelf. Then, I have a bit of a dust problem in the house… I, uhh, haven’t gotten around to dusting in a long time, but I have a duster in the laundry room. I’ll get it for you.”

 

>Applejack nods after each item, uttering a quick “Yes, Anon” each time

>you continue

 

“Thirdly, and this is really not something you have to do if you don’t want to, hon, but the bathroom we were in last night could use some extra scrubbing. I have a handled brush and a load of cleaning soap under the sink, but if you don’t want to do that, that’s fine. Just make sure you keep your bandages clear, ok?”

 

>Applejack nods enthusiastically

 

“Yes, Anon. I’ll be careful.”

 

“Good. Now, I also have some dirty dishes that need cleaning. They’re in the broken dishwasher. The sink’s right up there, and I got a nice wide stepladder propped up against the kitchen wall right over there so you can reach the counter. Just take your time, be careful, and don’t feel any pressure, ok?”

 

>Applejack purses her lips together, and nods her head

>she looks over at the stepladder, following your gaze

 

“Yes, Anon.”

 

>you smile

>you have a feeling she’ll be alright

>and now, for the final item

>you take a deep breath

 

“Good, Applejack. Now, this last one, you most DEFINITELY don’t have to do right now. But I wanted to leave it on the table just in case. My flowerbeds… well, they’re in bad shape. In fact, basically everything in there is a weed. If you can salvage any of the flowers in there, leave them, but I won’t be upset if you ripped basically all the plants in the beds out of there. There’s clover, dandelions, crabgrass, and all kinds of other crap sitting in there, growing taller and taller. Now, the really important thing here, Applejack, is that you have to do whatever you can to make sure that no dirt gets on those bandages. If you think you might, don’t do it, ok?”

 

>Applejack follows your eyes around the edge of the walls, getting an idea of how many beds of dirt and weeds you have around the house

>she’s very attentive

>the pony nods her head, a little slower this time, and glances over her shoulder back at her rear with a swish of her tail

 

“Yes, Anon. I understand.”

 

>You smile

>setting the list down on the kitchen table, you kneel down in front of her

>and despite her flinch, you put your hand under her chin

>you speak softly, making eye contact

 

“Ok. Now, listen to me, ok? If you don’t want to do this stuff today and decide that you want to rest, that’s perfectly alright. And if you aren’t sure of what to do or forget how to do something after I show you how, please don’t feel like you have to do it today. Ok?”

 

>Applejack hesitates for a moment

>and her nod is slower, but her eyes show understanding

>you really, really want to stress to her that she isn’t going to be in trouble if she doesn’t get all of these things done today

>you honestly hope she doesn’t get any of them done today, especially not after what happened yesterday

>pony needs some well deserved rest

 

>but for some reason

>you know, just a hunch

>you think she won’t just sleep today

>but it’s ok.

>this isn’t strenuous stuff.

>she’ll be fine.

 

>Applejack’s voice cuts through your ruminations

 

“Yes, Anon. I understand.”

 

>And that’s that.

>You’ve got fifteen minutes before you have to leave

>time to get moving…

 

…

 

>It had taken twenty minutes to fully explain everything to Applejack

>but it was alright.

>it’s not like you were actually on a strict timetable day to day

>hell, you were the employer, and it’s not like you’d never been a tad late before

 

>Applejack had not disappointed you

>remaining attentive as ever

>You had spent those extra five minutes drilling it into her head that it was ok not to do things today

>you think she had understood…

 

>well, you were going to try and get things done quickly today.

 

>sometimes, you all met at the house or worksite, and sometimes, you all met at your own driveway

>you wished you’d agreed to meet at the latter

>would have given you some extra sleep

>goodness, you were exhausted right now

>probably the sleeping pills still wearing off

>you’ll get through it

 

>as usual, highway traffic sucked

>added an extra twenty minutes to the trip

>but you’d factored that in already

>you hoped your employees did the same

 

>you were the first to arrive, as usual

>not because they were late, but because you were early

>as with most of your clients, the house is pretty huge

>around back is the project your team has been working on

>you can’t see it from the front, and it’s a bit of a trek from the driveway

>it’s made it a pain to get all those pallets of stone onto the patio ground

>as well as the wheelbarrows full of gravel and sand

>no wonder you’re so far behind schedule

 

>you hop into the bed of your truck and retrieve a few of the tools you’ll need

>a shovel, a few bags of stone dust, a hammer and chisel, and a big stone saw

>carrying the bags, you walk around

 

>and there it is

>the nightmare

>the project from hell

 

>the patio is pretty huge

>three different levels of light red sandstone, each level about five inches above the one below it

>the whole thing is rectangular in shape, with a medium height border wall all around it

>or, at least, there will be one

 

>but the worst thing are the pillars in the middle

>they’re all covered in stone fragments on the bottom foundation

>those stone fragments might look haphazard, but holy hell, they are difficult to cut

>it takes a lot of expertise and skill, as well as time, to do them right

>they can be all different shapes, but they have to be around the same size

>cut from raw stone chunks

>also, they have to jut out the same distance from the pillar, so they have to be the same thickness

>it’s been a time vacuum unlike anything you ever expected

>you look over the the ground beside the patio, where the raw stone chunks are lying down

>man, the last thing you want to hear…

 

-----

 

“Boss, we gon’ need more stone.”

 

>this project isn’t a nightmare.

>it’s a night terror.

>you stare blankly at the man standing across from you, pointing at the pillars with his open hand

>you feel the air stop in your lungs

>trying to process

>hoping he’s joking

 

>but he’s not.

>you bring a hand up to your face, trying to hide your bubbling anger

 

“Alfredo… Alfredo, I just bought whole new pallet last week, man! Can’t you just…”

 

>you trail off when he shakes his head at you, an apologetic look in his eyes

>he gestures to the pillars again

 

“There’s not enough, boss. ‘s not enough, have to cut too much…”

 

>you groan, and take a step back

>you couldn’t believe it

 

>Alfredo was a fantastic worker

>and not only that, he was a skill stonecutter and mason

>you pay him very well

>he’s very good at what he does

 

>which is why it hurts

>because you know he’s right.

 

>that was easily another 1.5 grand you’re going to have to put into this project

>and you’ve already gotten more stone not one, not two, but three times

>you seriously underestimated this project

>those damn pillars…

 

>fuck it.

>you’re not going to worry about those for today

>you wave your hand at the pillars like you’re shooing away a fly

 

“Ahh, don’t worry about that for today, Alfredo. Let’s just join Paco and Aaron and focus on getting those other pallets of stone unloaded for sitting wall, ok? I’ll get more stone pieces tomorrow.”

 

>Alfredo shrugs his shoulders

>adjusts his gloves on his hands, sets down the chisel in his hand, and walks over to an empty wheelbarrow

 

“Ech, alright, boss.”

 

>you sigh

>when you’ll ever get this patio done, you have no idea

>no timetable

>this is going to be a looong day…

 

-----

 

>damn, your legs were sore

>it hurt to even step on the brake

>better wheelbarrows are yet another thing you’re going to have to add to your list of things to get

>the ones you have now are creaky, and tip over if you look at them funny

 

>still, focusing all your attention on the sitting wall on the outside of the patio was a good idea

>you’d finished a good chunk of it

>even managed to affix some of it with mortar

>all you needed were the capstones, now, and you’d be able to finish it hopefully by the end of Wednesday

 

>truthfully, you could have gotten more done

>but you didn’t want to wait too long

>it was hard to work while you were distracted, anyway

>the thought of the orange pony at home, all alone for hours, made you call it quits by 2:30

>your fellow workers hadn’t complained, either

>this was tough work

 

>also on the plus side, the traffic wasn’t as bad yet

>you were almost home after only thirty minutes

>when you do arrive, you wait in the truck for a minute while you sip the rest of the gatorade bottle you purchased on the way back

>and you take a few deep breaths

 

>you aren’t sure what you’re going to see

>but whatever it is, you’re going to try to prepare for it

 

>you empty the bottle, throw it in an old grocery bag, and hop on out

>both of your feet feel like lead weights in your muddy, steel-toed boots

>you kick the dirt off the bottoms, take them off, and reach for the doorknob

 

>but then, you pause

>suddenly, you realize that there’s something different

>you were so tired that you almost didn’t see it, but it hits you

>you look at the beds of dirt on either side of the door

 

>they’re clear.

>before, there was a jungle of weeds

>but now, it’s just brown dirt

>and you can also see, as you look down the front wall, that there is a huge pile of leaves and debris

>all of the crap that was once in those flowerbeds

>and at first glance, you can also see the roots on the plants, still covered in dirt

 

>holy cow, she actually did it

>and it wasn’t a half-assed job, either

>she went all out, made sure to get to the deepest roots she could

>a smile spreads across your lips

 

>somehow, deep down, you expected this

>You couldn’t wait until she could really work with you and your team

>someone with her work ethic, with her drive…

>it was amazing

 

>you open the front door, and step inside

 

>you didn’t think that the mood in the air could change so quickly

>so dramatically

>but as soon as you enter, your smile disappears

 

>the first thing you notice is the total silence

>like the very air has gone still

>you don’t know why, but your hairs stand on end

>a prickling chill travels up your spine

>there isn’t a single peep

>not even your air conditioning is running at the moment

 

>Something is wrong.

 

>as quietly as you can, you set your work boots down beside the door, and close the front door

>the air around you feels oppressive

>weighing you down

>you call out, quietly

 

“Applejack? I’m home. Where are you?”

 

>you walk further in, past the couch

>no response

>your stomach starts churning

>you try again

 

“Applejack? Hon, you there?”

 

>still nothing

>well, she must not be inside the house

>then it hits you

 

>Of course! She must be working outside

>you exhale a breath you’d been holding inside of you

>nothing to worry about! She was just hard at work, that was all.

 

>you walk over to the sliding glass door at the opposite end of the room

>the blinds are partly closed, letting only some of the sunshine through

>it draws a thick column of light on the carpet, slicing the room in half

 

>you almost miss it as you walk over

>the light is so bright, it practically washes it out

>when you see the glistening out of the corner of your eye, you turn your head

>and you see it there, lying on the floor