[Copied from https://pastebin.com/VHK1Pjtf]

>You are Anonymous.
>And you are walking into what appears to be a fenced-in lot.
>You are here on a mission of pure curiosity.
>When you saw it while driving home from work, your curiosity was piqued by the sheer bizarreness of it.
>Proudly swaying in the wind over a closed gate, you saw a banner with the strangest of text upon it.
>Crazy Hassan's Used Camel Emporium.
>There was no way in hell this place actually sells camels, but you couldn't see through the wooden slate fence surrounding it, thus your curiosity nagged at you so.
>The sign nailed to the door is clearly labeled "OPEN", so you know it's open, at least.
>So you walk into the lot and you just can't believe your eyes.
>There are actually fucking camels here.
>Quite a number of them in all shapes and sizes you would expect of camels, and even a few you wouldn't.
>As you are captivated by the sheer butt-fucking madness in front of you, a voice and it's associated body sneaks up on you.
>"HELLO, GOOD FRIEND!"
>You turn to face him quickly and panically.
>"I AM CRAZY HASSAN, AND YOU ARE LOOKING FOR CAMEL, YES?"
>This Crazy Hassan is an arab man of unremarkably average build with a remarkably full beard surrounding a remarkably large smile, dotted with remarkably shiny silver teeth.
>"CAMELS ARE VERY GOOD, THEY LAST TWICE AS LONG AS HORSES AND DON'T REQUIRE DIRTY AND EXPENSIVE FUEL LIKE CARS."
>Crazy Hassan gets uncomfortably close and quieter.
>"And, just between you and me, I think they look very nice."
"Uh, I already have a car-"
>Crazy Hassan then switched back to the happy yelling he started with and took a step back.
>"AH, YOU ARE LOOKING FOR COMPANION CAMEL, THEN!"
>"I KNOW THAT FEELING, PEOPLE LIE AND TAKE ADVANTAGE OF YOU, UNLIKE NOBLE CAMELS!"
>"I HAVE JUST THE CAMEL FOR YOUR NEEDS!"
>He then disappears into the clusterfuck of camels.
>Several minutes later he comes out of the herd leading something along on a lead rope, presumably a "companion camel".
>You finally see what he has brought out to try and hawk at you.
>"YES, HERE IS JUST WHAT YOU ARE NEEDING!"
>Well, your mother always told you it was not nice to presume.
>What Crazy Hassan has brought out was definitely not a camel, even by the standards set by the strange camels that dotted his herd.
>Standing at a mighty 4-ish feet tall at the shoulder and roughly horse shaped with large and expressive eyes, it certainly brakes the mold in terms of camelology.
>And those large and expressive eyes are expressing infinite annoyance.
>"IS VERY GOOD CAMEL, NOBLE AND ALWAYS TRUTH!"
>"I told you, I ain't no camel!"
>And now it's talking.
>In a southern drawl, no less.
"Uh, Hassan, that "camel" appears to be talking."
>You make sure to emphasize the quotes around 'camel' to the nth degree.
>"YES, THIS CAMEL EVEN CAN TALK, NO EXTRA CHARGE!"
>The "camel" makes a very annoyed sigh, which Hassan seems to completely ignore.
>"IS VERY GOOD, YES?"
"S-sure, she is-"
>"GREAT, LET'S BEGIN DISCUSSING PRICES!"
"Wait, what?"
>And just like that, you are dragged off by the very giddy Hassan.

>You are Anon.
>And you are now the proud owner of a small, equine-like, talking camel.
>Though you aren't sure why or how.
>You walk out of Crazy Hassan's Used Camel Emporium, with your new used "camel" in tow.
>Well, time to break the ice with your most intelligent and all-knowing words of awarness.
>You turn to your newly acquired companion and open your sagely mouth.
"What the hell just happened?"
>"Besides you being tricked into buying somethin' you didn't want by a guy who don't know the difference between a camel and a pony?"
"Touche."
>You decide to quickly steer this conversation into more productive directions.
"Well, I didn't get your name when Hassan was, uh, haggling or whatever."
>"I didn't get yours, neither."
>Okay, now's your chance, save face with the coolest introduction you can think of, Anon!
"I'm, uh, Anon, and you?"
>Christ that was as basic and lame as it gets, and you're pretty sure your voice cracked, too.
>"Applejack."
"Well, Applejack, it's going to be a long walk back, you mind if I ask you a few questions?"
>You enunciate her name slowly and clearly, letting it move about your mouth a bit so you can get it just right.
[spoiler]>Lewd[/spoiler]
>"Go right ahead, 'aint like I have anything better to do."

>By the time you make it back home you've been beaten half to death with exposition.
>Well, not exactly beaten half to death, but that pony you bought sure had a lot to say.
>Evidently, your used companion was an apple farmer before ending up in the good old US of A.
>And, you know, pretty much being enslaved.
>She hails from a village called Ponyville in the magical horse land of Equestria.
>You can't make this shit up.
>You would laugh at how utterly generic of a name that is for a land of horses, same for the generic name given to what is literally a village of ponies, but that would be rude.
>Ponyville itself, following her description, seems to be a cross between Tennessee, Dungeons and Dragons, and LSD.
>Somewhere between her life on the farm and right now, some trans-dimensional crimp shanghaied her ass onto Spaceship Earth and left her with no memory as to how.
>And then she was shanghaied AGAIN into being part of Hassan's herd of camels.
>She couldn't give any specific time frame for everything after that.
>That's understandable, LARPing as a used car probably isn't a pass time that makes each and every day a memorable and distinct experience.
>Not that you'd know.
>A lot of this was ringing not many bells, of course, but they still rang a few, which was quite irritating.
>Damn information, stop ringing my bells and get off my fucking lawn.
>But, irregardless, you still want to look more into this later.
>And speaking of later, you have run out of memory and are now operating in the here and now.
>This is far too pretentious for your liking, so you shift your mind immediately to the scene in front of you.
>You are looking upon your fabulous abode, with a whole one bathroom and possibly two bedrooms if you believe hard enough on a towering single floor.
>Rustic decayed wood siding and rusted porch door sold desperately.
"Hey, can you hold this for a minute?"
>"Uh... alright."
>You pass of the object in your hand off to Applejack, freeing yourself to focus on fumbling with this shitty fucking door.
>It takes way more work than it feels like you would need, but the door unlocks with an unsatisfying click and opens with an equally unsatisfying and quite quiet creak.
>You then head inside, leading Applejack along on the lead rope.
>Or, that is what you would be doing, but the lead rope had left your hand and was being held in her mouth.
"Did I..."
>"Yep."
>Well, shit.
>This bodes well for your career as a slave master.
>Sheepishly, you take the rope out of her mouth, taking extra care to not touch where her mouth had been.
>And with that out of the way, the two of you head inside.
"Make yourself at home, mi casa, su casa, right?"
>"What does that rightly mean?"
>Damn, that really fell flat.
>What are you, your dad?
"So, uh, you hungry, then?"
>"Well, I do have a hankering for some real food."
"As opposed to, uh, imaginary food?"
>Jesus fuck, you really are your dad.
>"You ever eat raw hay before?  It aint exactly a flavor sensation."
"Point taken."
>The two of you walk to the kitchen.
"Well, good thing my fridge is fully stocked."
>It's not fully stocked.
>In fact, your entire kitchen is definitely underflowing with supplies.
>All that you got in the fridge are a variety of condiments, a small amount of prepackaged meat-like product, and a few miscellaneous (and mostly expired) food items.
>You can't really find anything you would think a pony could eat at a glance, but then your eyes drift upon a solution at the back of the fridge.
>Mutha.
>Fuckin.
>Spray-on pancake batter.
>Hell, it's mostly full, too.
>You pull this curious solution out of the fridge and hold it in the air, examining it.
>"Uh, Anon, what is that?"
"The greatest invention of mankind, instant pancake batter, just wait and we'll have loads of pancakes just like that."
>You attempt to snap your fingers and fail, producing only a quiet flicking noise
>Then you proceed to preform the idiot-proof ritual of instant pancake makery.
>You don't know why you don't make this stuff more often.

>Now you remember why you don't make this shit more often.
>It's fucking horrible.
>Though it took you a few bites to confirm this was the truth, you now knew that it was so.
>You dump the discs of pure failure into the trash, and then take the rest of the can of spray on batter and throw it away, too.
>All the while, Applejack is attempting to work through her portion, clearly enjoying the experience less and less with each bite taken.
>If this continues reality itself will probably start folding in on itself by the sheer unpleasantness of the experience she is having.
"Well, that was far worse than I remembered."
>Christ, she's still trying to eat it.
>Momma horse didn't raise no entitled brat.
>Watching this magical talking horse be in such an unpleasant situation makes you feel unpleasant, so you decide to put a stop to it.
"Applejack, yo-you can spit it out if you want to, I wouldn't blame you."
>Honestly, given the quality of those pancakes, no one in the history of mankind would or could blame her.
>She takes up your offer and quickly moves over to the trash can to expunge the horror that is the anti-pancake from her mouth.
>At the same time, you move out of the way towards the hall to give her ample room.
>Though a 6-odd foot tall quadruped is small compared to a camel, it is a pretty notable presence when compared to a bipedal beanpole like yourself.
>Well, you are out of things in the realm of actual meal-type food and still have a hungry horse.
>You really need to start grocery shopping more regularly, instead of putting it off until there isn't a single crumb in the house.
"That's that, then, I have to go grocery shopping."
"So, before I go, I'm assuming you can't eat animal-based products, right?"
>"No, I just can't eat meat. Eggs and butter and such are all good, sugarcube."
>Okay, so these ponies aren't completely herbivorous, then.
>Good to know.
"Alright, bye."
>You've never been good at exits, or introductions, or thirds of things.
>You walk out of your house and spy your main method of long distance locomotion sitting there on the side of the road by the curb.
>This was your fathers ride.
>An elegant vehicle of a more civilized age.
>Your extra-used 1988 VW Vanagon.
>The rust and massive splotch of discoloration along the right side where you had to paint over something just makes it more civilized.
>You get in and drive off, not stopping for anything.
>Except for stop signs, the town traffic light, traffic, and your actual destination, the grocery store.
>As you get out of your van and head inside, you realize you don't have a grocery list.
>Well, time to try and go grocery shopping without accidentally spending all of your money on bacon and marshmallow fluff.
>Again.
>Shaking those thoughts from your head, you stride on into the grocery store.
>You take a shopping cart and get to work gathering supplies.
>As you pass the pegboard shelves that clutter the store, you start grabbing things as you see fit, keeping in mind there is now a second mouth in your house that also needs food inserted into it.
>Stuff like cereal, a 6-pack of peanut butter, a jar of soda, some edible instant pancake mix, an abnormal amount of bacon for just one person, and other things to that effect.
>You meander about the store doing that for quite a bit, eventually ending up out of the main body of aisles into the produce section.
>Just finish up here and you can fuck off through the check-out and be home free.
>You're definitely going to need get the fuck out of some potatoes and bananas, you love the shit outta those things.
[spoiler]>You wonder if it would be racist if you got Applejack a carrot.[/spoiler]
[spoiler]>Probably.[/spoiler]
>Maybe get some apples, you never quite cared for them, but Applejack would probably like them fine.
>Hell, she has a tramp stamp of apples, so that's basically confirmed.
>And so you get a few apples.
>Feeling satisfied with your choices, you head off to the check-out to get the stuff bought and paid for.
>You hand off what should be a good week or two's of groceries, give or take how much Applejack actually eats and any meals out, to the cashier.
>As he's busy trying to bag all of that shit, your eyes drift towards his nametag.
>You read it and notice the name that presumably belongs to him.
>A name that you recognize, one whom you hope does not recognize you.
>Well, he shouldn't, it's been a while and you've changed so much since then.
>Suddenly the uncomfortable thoughts that had started to resurface are pulled back into the murky depths of your unconscious as the cashier tells you what you owe.
>It seems quite steep, but that's comparing you're usual food budget.
>You now realize you are probably going to have to rework your budget to factor in the fact you now have a dependent.
>That'll be a XL barrel of laughs delivered at a mile a minute with a side order of... other metaphor.
>Where were you going with this?
>Fuck it, you go ahead and pay the man and take all of your groceries out to your van so you can load them up.
>So you then spend the next 10 or so minutes on the labor of loading quite a bit of food.
>Boy, you wish you had someone who could help with all this manual labor.
>It's not like you bought a literal beast of burden just an hour and a half ago.
>Well, that's strike two against your competency as a slave master.
>Maybe you can make it a full three strikes and prove yourself as a decent human being.
>After finishing up loading up them there groceries, you get back in your van and head for home towards the setting sun.

>You stop the van right where you started, at the side of the street in front of your house.
>Just like basically where you would expect whenever one is not on a one-way trip.
>You get out and get ready to spend more time hauling all of the groceries to the back of your house all by yourself.
>Because you now have an extra pair of hands to help move this task along faster.
>Well, you say hands, but it would probably be more accurate to say hooves.
>Or maybe jaws, because hooves aren't exactly a decent method of gripping, but jaws kinda are a bit.
>Eh, whatever.
>Time to actually do something vaguely sorta slave-ish with your slave pony.
>It's almost like you intended to do this and aren't just doing this seat by the seat of your pants or something.
>You are no longer Anon, two-times winner of the decent human being award for excellence in not being a slave driver.
>You are now Anon, unfeeling and severely sociopathic slave master.
>Opening the door, you see your slave sitting on YOUR long-ass couch.
>Fucking horse nigger don't know it's place.
>And so you go to put it to work in the fields like the cold-blooded slave driver you are.

"Uh, hey, can you help me with the groceries?"
>Cruel and heartless as always.
>Your, eh-heh, commanding presence knocks Applejack right out of her staring-at-a-turned-off-tv stupor and flat on her ass.
>Granted she was already on her ass, because she was sitting on your long-ass couch.
>Ok, not exactly sitting in the traditional bipedal sense, more sorta crouching/lying on it.
>Not like you know the proper terminology for any of this shit anyways
>But anyway, she then replies, it's even with her facehole and everything!
>"Oh! Sure thing, Anon."
>And so she more or less fell/jumped off your couch and the two of you headed outside for fresh air and also to haul them groceries.
>As you open the back of the van, you wonder if she'll be able to handle the bags without hands.
>Would her seeming go-to method of holding things in her mouth work with full bags of stuff?
>If she can't, maybe you can just tie bags together into makeshift saddlebags and she can carry them off on her back.
>Yeah, that could work, and she'd be able to carry off two at a time, but you've never been good at tying things, so you're not sure how well they'd hold together.
>Your scheming is cut off when you see that she CAN lift that shit with her mouth.
>Guess that's that, then.
>A good bit of lifting, hauling, and shelf stocking later, you have a fully stocked kitchen.
>You sit down, take a deep breath, and sigh, satisfied at a job well done.
>That and because you knew you had a long night ahead of you.
>You had to check what things you had or were going to need to get to accommodate a fucking magical talking pony, dick around with your finances, and do some actual research into all of this shit involving magic ponies and this Equestria hullabaloo to put those little niggles in the back of your mind to rest...
>They don't tell you this shit in the pamphlets.
>Fuck, you didn't even get a pamphlet.
>But first, time to wash out the lingering stench of anti-pancake with some real [spoiler]cheap instant[/spoiler] pancakes.
>Sure, some would say it's strange to make pancakes for dinner, but some can jump off a short pier.
>Though you'll have to clean off the griddle first.
>That's when you notice the griddle, and the rest of the dishes you had gotten out for that matter, were no longer where you had left them, but were now sitting clean in the sink.
>Your mighty powers of brain functionality let you put two and two together, and lead you to be slightly bemused.
>You turn to Applejack and give your most limp and noodley point towards the sink.
"Did you, uh, wash all of that, while I was out?"
>"Yep, I did."
>Just to be further bemuse you, she seems to say that almost pridefully.
>Nice to know at least she's gotten into the role given to her.
>Either that or you've unwittingly been competing in some sort of, like, hospitality-off or something.
>But given that you're pretty sure hospitality-offs aren't a thing...
>It's about 50/50 one way or the other.
>Fuck it, don't look a horse gift in the mouth or however that saying goes.
"Thanks, then."
>"Oh, it was nothing, Anon."
>And thus you take out your mighty stove-top griddle and mixing bowl, then you take out the mystical instant mix of pancake and start going to town on it.
>Some minutes later, you acquire pancakes.
>The jury is in, and them pancakes are good.
>Granted, neither you or Applejack have what could be called "being unbiased" in your case or "a warm meal during the past several years" in her case.
>But remember, 90% of taste is half mental.
>Besides, shut up.
>The two of you eat in silence, neither you or her seeming to be willing to make the first move in awkward dinner conversation.
>Seriously, what would you discuss with a slave?
>The life she's lost, the poor conditions of her capture, the future plans you still have to make?
>Yeah, that'd go well.
>Granted, she gave you the general information about said lost life, but you honestly don't want to push any further.
>You've only known her for about two hours, one of which was spent buying groceries by yourself.
>Might as well take this time to take a nice detailed look at her.
>As she continues to maul her pancakes face-first you notice she's actually quite dirty.
>You wonder if she can even operate a bathtub.
>Or if she could fit, for that matter.
>Once again, she's definitely a big pony.
[spoiler]>2U[/spoiler]
>She briefly looks up from her pancakes to notice you looking at her.
>Well, shit.
>You quickly abort mission and turn your gaze to your pancakes, then pray to baby Jesus's holy crib mobile this doesn't go any further.
>You then pray to baby Jesus himself that she doesn't have a fetish for ape dick, just to be safe.
>"Er, Anon, what in tarnation were you doing?"
>Oh, good, she's just creeped out.
>You bring out the quickest and cutting-to-the-chase-est explanation you can think of.
"Um, you're, uh, d-dirty."
>Eloquent as always, you is.
>"You're the one who's been checkin' me out."
>She says this with a hint of indignation, time for you to deliver another mumbly and awkward verbal riposte.
"No, no, you're REALLY actually dirty, you, uh, need a shower."
>Her indignation then deflates like a balloon and sails right into the trash can.
>"Oh, sorry 'bout that."
"It's fine, just get that done when you're, uh, done here."
>"Alright."
>And with that situation moderately defused, the two of you go back to just eating your pancakes.

>With the pancakes finished and the clean-up left as Future Anon's problem, it's time for that dirty horse to get not-dirty.
>Whats the word?
>Eh, you forget.
>But for you it's time to fuck off to do all of the things previously mentioned.
>Horse accommodations, finances, research, yadda, yadda.
>So the two of you go your separate ways.
>But as you fuck off, a you hear a racket behind you.
>Turning around to see the source of the noise,  you see it's just Applejack.
>And she's struggling the hell with the doorknob.
>So you make a full u-turn back to her and the bathroom door of doom.
"Uh, do you-"
>"Don't you worry yourself, Anon, I almost got it!"
>So you just stand there and watch as she almost gets it for a good minute at least before she gives up.
>Luckily you spent the entire minute thinking up something cool and collected to get her to fully concede defeat to the god-doorknob of mankind.
>You throw forth a confident helping hand and let three simple words flow forth from your mouth.
"Need any help?"
>...holy shit, you actually pulled off something cool and collected.
>It's not amazing or even above average, maybe not even average, but you actually did it!
>angelic_choir.mmf
>But the celebration must be saved for later, because she is giving a defeated sigh and it's time for you to step in to save her from the evil Hinges of Xerxes as her knight in unbelievably ugly plaid shirt.
[spoiler]>Speaking of knights, you wonder if it would be racist to have her play the role of your noble steed at the renaissance fair.[/spoiler]
[spoiler]>Probably.[/spoiler]
>So you put your hand on the accursed knob, and turn it mightily counter-clockwise, then push the hellish door open with all the might you can muster!
>And so the two of you are now in the bathroom.
"So, uh, are you going to be able to, er, get everything?"
>"Of course I can."
>She says this with confidence, but the type that clearly fools no one into thinking the person speaking with it is actually confident.
>Yeah, you'd probably have confidence issues if you couldn't turn a doorknob, too.
>She holds her head high as she gets into the tub and manages to actually turn the water on.
>"See, I got this just fine, sugarcube."
>She takes a break from wearing a mask of pride to start looking around the bathroom for something.
>"You got a brush or somethin' around these parts?"
"I, uh, got one sitting in that little space in the wall."
>She looks at the small body brush you have stashed in the recess in the wall.
>"Kinda, do you got one of them, but longer?"
>Oh, so she could wash herself, she just needs a bigger and longer, eh heh, brush.
"No, I don't have one of those. So, do you need me to, er-"
>"Yes."
>She seemed to be quite sheepish as she realized her attempts at functioning as an autonomous being was thwarted by her own physiology for a second time today.
>And that's assuming she wasn't attempting something to that tune while you were out.
>But anyways, you then strip down to the nude, feeling increasingly awkward with each item of clothing removed.
"Is it, uh, okay that I'm naked?"
>"Anon, I don't normally wear clothes, I've spent most of my life around folks who don't normally wear clothes, I'm fine with you takin' yours off."
>Oh, you knew that, yes.
"Yes, right."
>Perfect, she doesn't suspect a thing.
>And so you switch the water to come out of the shower head above, get to work cleaning her up.
>As you start washing the grit and grime off of her, she remains silent and still.
>A statuesque figure trying to save face after past embarrassment.
>Eventually you end up causing her to break her composure as you reach what turns out to be a quite sensitive part of her body.
>The twitchy horsey earseys.
>That's the scientific terminology, you know.
>Her still stance relaxes a bit as you start washing and rubbing her ears.
>You've found a chink in her armor, and now you can worm your way in there and destroy it piece by piece!
>Time for a lesson in equine biology...
>There's no place to go but down the neck from her ears, so you wash her mane, going from the top of her head and all the way down to the base of her neck repeatedly, until the filth is cleared.
>She relaxes further and starts producing a contented murmur in response.
>You then proceeded due west to her back and side, working up and down her body with the brush.
>Her body trembles slightly as she lets out a calm sigh.
>And then so do you.
>God, this calm must be contagious, because you're feeling quite relaxed.
>Washing someone shouldn't be this therapeutic, but evidently it is if you are washing a cute horse.
>Stupid cute horse with it's contagious calmness.
>Or maybe it's the fact that you have more or less been showering the upper half of your body in the process that makes you so calm.
>Wait, weren't you trying to embarrass her for your amusement or something?
>Fuck it, you're a horse groomer now.
>Later you ran out of horse to groom, and so you had to leave your new life and your tub after about 6 minutes.
>So back into the awkward partialy-comedic atmosphere you go!
>"Thanks for gettin' me cleaned up, Anon."
"It was no problem. But we probably should get a, uh, longer brush so you can do this yourself."
>That was a quite calming experience, but it'll probably lose it's charm after a few times.
"So, will you be able to, er, dry yourself, at least?
>"That I know I can do, sugarcube. Just stand back."
>You sigh heavily.
>Oh boy, here we go again.
>Wait, stand back?
>That's when she shook herself dry like a fucking dog.
>And then she went over to the towel rack and in one smooth motion threw a towel at you before simply rubbing against the others to finish drying off.
>Oh.
"Oh."
[spoiler]>Oh.[/spoiler]
>You dry yourself off as quickly as possible before going to your bedroom to get some pants on before you do something awkward, like get a boner.
>That and your dick is getting cold.
>So you dawn your finest sweatpants and most suave t-shirt.
>The way it hangs loosely on your lanky body just makes it more suave.
>But it's time for all of the boring shit you were thinking about before to get done.
>And no awkward horse antics will get in your way this time!
>You wish they would, but they probably wont.
>First, you have to take inventory of your luxurious and extravagant amenities to see what your going to need to stock up on.
>A single bed?
>Check.
>A selection of toiletries that are at best laughable?
>Check.
>A third thing that isn't up to snuff?
>Muthafuckin' check.
>Looks like you're going to have to go to Bed, Bath, and Beyond tomorrow.
>At least the 15 minute drive there will reveal Applejack's tolerance for being in a moving vehicle.
>Why do you live in the middle of nowhere, again?
>Amenities thus scrutinized, you pass through the living room on your way to your private study.
>Granted, you only really go in there to use the computer, but it has books on planks of wood in a shelf like configuration, so it counts.
>You then notice Applejack is back on your long-ass couch, just sorta sitting there, clearly bored and falling back into the stupor you had found her in when you got back from the grocery store.
>At least getting cleaned up has left her body a lot more vibrant than before.
>Unfortunately, as previously mentioned, a lack of proper cleaning equipment leaves her still looking somewhat disheveled.
>Can't have everything, sadly.
>You could leave her to her own devices, but ignoring such a blatantly telegraphed issue requires a far larger dick than you possess.
>That and the irony of her being bored while sitting in front of a literal entertainment center is a bit too palpable and blatant for your tastes.
[spoiler]>You know, as opposed to her sitting in front of a figurative entertainment center, which would not really be ironic, just odd.[/spoiler]
"Uh, are you going to be fine just sitting here?  Because I'm-I'm probably going to be, uh, doing things for a few hours."
>"I'm fine, Anon, just, uh, relaxin'."
"You sure you don't want me to put on a, uh, movie or something?"
>For some odd reason, that seems to puzzle her.
>"Wait, what now?"
"It's like, uh, pictures that move with-"
>"I know what a movie is.  What's got me all off guard is that you need all sortsa special equipment and big fancy screens and stuff, and I don't see one of them things 'round here."
>Oh, she just doesn't know about the wonders of our lord and savior the home DVD player.
>You walk over to the DVD cabinet and begin perusing it's contents.
"Well then, allow me to, uh, correct your assumptions a bit."
>And so you pull out your copy of The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring.
>It's the perfect choice for this scenario.
[spoiler]>And not just because several other more talented people have done this shit already.[/spoiler]
>It is of a pretty hefty length from what you remember, clocking in at something like 3 hours.
>That and the heavily fictitious nature of its setting means her almost assuredly very sporadic knowledge of humanity should probably not be too big a problem for her.
>Feeling satisfied with your choice, you get ready to make some lights and sounds occur in patterns and intervals that are processed by the mind as a continuous experience.
>You place the disk inside the DVD player and head over to the end table to pick up the TV remote and the DVD player remote.
>Holding one in each hand like only the most badass of Western action heroes could, you expertly point the relevant remotes towards their respective devices, pressing buttons with masterly skill until the things you want to happen do.
>As the DVD starts, Applejack decides to take the time to show some subdued awe at the fact that this is actually real.
>"Well, I'll be..."
>"So, you really got a whole movie on that one small disc in there?"
"Yeah, all, uh, 3 hours of it."
>She then adds a side order of confusion to her awe.
>"Really, 3 hours just sittin' here watchin' a movie?"
"Most aren't that long, usually just, uh, an hour and a half or so.  Besides, do you have, uh, anything to do at all right now?"
>The world stops to let her have a think.
>"I guess I don't got anything better to do."
>She concedes defeat and continues taking up most of your couch, but this time with a distraction.
>So you head into your super-private-no-entry-pls-its-not-even-here-its-that-private study.
>Before you fully slip away, you stop to say one more thing.
"If you need anything, just, uh, come in here and let me know.  I'll keep the door open so you can get it."
>And so you get to work finally doing that boring shit within your so-private-you-left-the-door-open study...

>The next morning is quite a picturesque one.
>The birds aren't singing, the sky is overcast, and that third thing still isn't up to snuff.
[spoiler]>Fucking third thing, they should just burn them all.[/spoiler]
>However, you haven't seen it yet, so just forget that.
>Right now, you are slowly returning to consciousness from the land of nod.
>You must have fallen asleep at the computer.
>Again.
>But then you realize you aren't in your normal passed out at the computer position.
>For starters, you're lying on your side in bed, and as far as you're aware you don't sleepwalk.
>And for seconds, you can feel your back is up against something warm and soft, and you can feel a vaguely limb like appendage thrown over you.
>Your just recently reawakening mind takes a bit to put one and one together.
>Let's see, there's only one other sentient being in this building besides you, only one bed... pressed up on a stomach...
>...carry the pi...
>You're currently being spooned by your slave in your own damn bed.
>Well, that's strike three against your competency as a slave master.
>Congratulations, you've won the Decent Human Being Award for Excellency in Not Exploiting Others.
>You feel so happy.
>That's probably just because you're warm and between several soft things.
>Though it does feel like something is fundamentally wrong with this scenario.
>Probably because comfy as shit or no, it is still kinda miffing to be on the receiving end of non-consensual cuddles.
>In your own bed, no less.
>You want some answers.
>So you begin drag your ass out of bed.
>And as you do that, Applejack begins to move as well.
>"Oh, your awake."
>She doesn't sound in the slightest tired, she must have already been awake by the time you came too.
>You turn to look at her and put on your most puzzled tone.
"Wh-why were you sleeping with me?"
>"You want the whole truth and nothin' but the truth?"
"Yes, very much so!"
>She clears her throat before continuing.
>"Well, I saw you sleepin' at your space typewriter or whatever it was, so I thought I'd be nice and get you on the actual bed."
"Yeah, I get that, and, uh, thanks for that anyways, but why did you stay and, erm, get so close?"
>A small and slightly playful grin appears on her face.
>"Payback."
"Wait, is this because of the stuff back in the bathroom?"
>"You went straight for my ears, sugarcube.  I had to pay you back somehow."
"Uh, alright, it was just some, uh, cuddling, but just please ask me the next time you want to do that."
>"Yeah, now that I think about it, I probably shouldn'ta gone and done it."
>You then remember the stuff you were doing in your private-ish study.
"I should probably, uh, check on the work I was doing before I, well, fell asleep."
>So you leave the room, still in the clothes you wore yesterday, and head for the study.
>As you go through the living room, you notice the TV and DVD player are still on, and shut that shit down post-haste.
>You don't want any monitor burn-in or DVD player burning or whatever.
>The study door opens smoothly, and you head over to the desk and sit down.
>Sat on your wheely chair-that's the technical term, you think-, you check the work you had done the previous night to see how far you had actually gotten.
>You had the list of things you needed to shop for, along with a few notes about the general needs of ponies that you want to keep in mind for the future, written down on the back of an old bit of junk mail advertising the Junk Mail of the Month Club.
>You only made one year-long subscription to that club out of curiosity.
>On a completely coincidental note, you have 12 more of that exact advert.
>And you also factored in the probable costs of those items into this months budget, along with everything else relating to the budget.
>God damn, you should do important shit until you pass out more often!
>Though it seems you never got around to looking into the general situation around the existence of magic talking ponies.
>Eh, you can look into that later.
>Comfortable in the knowledge that you did the important shit that needed to be done, except for that one you didn't, it's time for you to eat some breakfast.
>But first you have to search for Applejack.
>Thus began an epic quest that went on for days and nights across many lands, in which you learned true courage an-
>Then you hear the toilet flush at the opposite end of the house.
>Followed immediately by a clip-clopping of hooves coming towards this end of the house.
>Oh.
>A brief few seconds later, she comes face to face with you.
>"Oh, hey there, Anon, did you get those things done you were doin'?"
"Yeah. So, are you, uh, ready to eat breakfast?"
>"Sure, it is well into the mornin', after all."
"How well into the morning is it, exactly?"
>"It's almost eleven."
"Oh, that's a bit late, isn't it. But anyways, I was thinking that, uh, as well, the whole eating breakfast thing. We should probably go to the, uh, kitchen, then."
>"Seems like it."
>So the two of you did, and some more mildly-awkward food making and eating happened, much like the night before.
>It was during this you explained to her, uming and ering and comma-ing as you went, that you were heading to the next town over to get some things and that she was coming with you because said things directly concerned her.
>With that established, the two of you finish eating and then head off into parts unknown.
>Well, unknown to her, you've actually been there many times.
>Granted, you don't exactly have a cartographic knowledge of that place either.
>So it's more "head off into parts somewhat patchily known about," you guess.
>As you head out into the open, you take in the fresh air.
>You'd rather not, but there's no helping it when the town is surrounded on all fronts by deadly, deadly nature and its fresh air creating properties.
>You jimmy open the sliding door on the van and motion for Applejack to get in.
>"Really, you ain't even gonna let me try to get this done myself?"
>She makes a defeated sigh, silently conceding that horses can't operate superior human door technology at anywhere near peak efficiency.
>You close the door behind her once she actually works her way inside, and then sit your scrawny ass down in the drivers seat.
>The van shudders to life as you turn the ignition, and so starts the long journey to civilization.
>And by that, you mean a place with a Bed, Bath and Beyond, among other things.
>Within a few minutes the village of Idaho, IL gives way to rolling fields of corn, with a few patchy clusters of trees and pasture here and there.
>But mostly fucking corn.
>Honestly, you find it somewhat unnerving, all this corn and grassland and trees with only the odd crappy old homestead or barn or rusted grain silo to break it up.
>It just feels so isolating and lonely, even though there is another sentient/sapient/who-gives-a-fuckient being sitting behind you.
>The dreary overcast weather probably doesn't help.
>Nor does the fact that the two of you are still locked in awkward silence.
>Well, you assume she's also in a state of awkward silence, and not just looking at the miles of farmland around her or something.
>Now that you think about it, that is a distinct possibility.
>Especially because she is looking out the window and repeatedly hmm-ing.
>She did say she was some type of farmer yesterday, right?
>Still, it's pretty awkward for you, at least, so you decide to switch on the radio.
>As always, you have it set to the only station around here that isn't talk radio or a country music station.
>"-is WNCM, Bradburg on 98.3 FM."
>The ident gives way to a loud drum beat.
>Wow, you tuned in just time for the next song to go on, what luck!
>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Haypxj24_Uw
>Oh yes.
>Thank you WNCM.
>You can indeed feel the noize.
>And so can Applejack, and from her reaction it just sexually assaulted her eardrums.
>Such is the power of heavy metal on the unprepared mind.
>She raises her voice a number of decibels to overcome the music.
>"Anon, what is this noise?!"
>You yell back.
"It's heavy metal!"
>Then you follow this up with cackling like a madman.
>"Could you quiet it down jus' a bit, it's painfully loud!
"Come on, it isn't that loud, I haven't even turned all the way up yet!"
>She shoots back with no small ammount of sarcasm and indignation.
>"Well sorry I 'aint got whatever desensitized hearin' you folk got!"
"Wait, you have sensitive hearing?!"
>"If'n everyone here's got hearin' like you, then I guess that's right!"
"That changes a few things if you actually do have more sensitive hearing, I mean, I thought you were just being hyperbolic!"
>The sarcasm drains away from her voice to give away to sincerity.
>"No, this is actually hurtin' my ears!"
"Sorry, I didn't realize your hearing wasn't so sensitive!"
>"And I'm sorry 'bout snappin' at you, you couldn't rightly know how my hearin' compares to yours!"
"Yeah, apology accepted!"
>"Your too, now can you quiet down the music?!"
"Alright!"
>And so you turn down the music, finally ending the yell-fest.
>Unfortunately, your throat now feels dry and sore from the abnormal level of yelling on your end.
>Hell, the abnormal amount of speech on your end full stop.
"Ah, god, all that-all that yelling really does a number on your, um, throat, doesn't it?"
>"Nah, I'm used to it."
>She pauses for a moment to think, the dead air filled in by hushed heavy metal gently passing kick-ass guitar riffs into the air.
>"So, what's this song even 'bout, anyways?"
>Time for you to make a very educated and intelligent analysis of this song.
"Well, it's, uh, about feeling the noise, and being wild, I think. Honestly, I think it's more about, uh, creating a mood than the lyrics themselves."
>"What kinda mood is that, exactly?"
"One of, uh, wildness and rowdyness, I guess."
>Another moment of dead air plugged up with more hushed heavy metal passes.
>"So, you done put on music meant to create a feelin' of wildness and such..."
"Well, yeah, that's what I, uh, just said."
>Yet ANOTHER moment of silence goes by.
>"...in front somepony who's a slave."
"What are you, uh, getting at, exactly?"
>A hint of smugness arises in her voice.
>"That you're bad at bein' a slave owner."
>You let out a sigh.
"Yes, yes, I know. But you're speaking like, uh, being a good slave owner is something I would consider good."
>"Nah, it's just a bit weird."
>And speaking of that thing she was talking about you being bad at, you decide to bring up the first stop on the itinerary for today while the situation is still tangentially related.
"If you, uh, find my previous lack of general slaver type behavior that weird, then you'll be happy to know that we're, uh, going to the pet store to, uh, get a proper leash and collar for, well, you. Kinda have t-to because of, uh, leash laws and stuff."
>You find yourself vocally shrinking somewhat as you move through that phrase.
>This could either end with her being somewhat embarrassed or somewhat angry.
>The whole scenario is going a bit further than merely a bit of ribbing at her inability of open doors or whatever, you're in quite uncharted territory.
"Alrighty then, that rope that I had on was mighty chafin' and irritatin' anyways."
>Well, she's not mad at this prospect, but it's strange that she's so accepting.
"Oh, okay, glad to see that you're, uhm, taking this so well. I-I thought you were going to be, uh, flustered or angry or at least a bit resistive, y'know?"
>"Anon, I've had a literal length of rope tied 'round my muzzle for Celestia know's how long, anythin' would be an improvement; and if'n I HAVE to be led around on somethin' like you just said I do then I'm able to accept it."
>Okay, now she sounds slightly irritated.
>Then again, so would you if you were recalling experiencing that thing she just mentioned she had been experiencing.
"Yeah, I guess that's, uh, quite sensible. Still feels a bit odd, you being so okay with this."
>"Would you rather I be uncooperative and more stubborn than a mule?"
"N-No, not at all."
>"Then just count your blessin's, sugarcube."
"Alright."
>And so that was that.

>Soon enough you're down in Paradise City, where the grass is green-ish and the girls are average at best.
>Oh, and the roads fucking suck.
>Yeah, Paradise City has a bit of a false advertising problem.
>It's not a city at all, it's a fucking census-designated place.
>But apparently Paradise Census-Designated Place isn't a good enough name for some assholes.
>At least it has a shopping plaza where you can find the shit you need.
>So you park on the aptly named parking lot, and prepare to go on your noble quest of buying things.
>First, a leash, because leash laws apply to magic talking horses, apparently.
>You then realize you aren't even sure if there is a pet supply store on this plaza.
>You quickly scan the stores and find that their actually is a pet supply store.
>Granted, not a major retail chain or anything, but still what you need, nonetheless.
>And it's having a clearance sale, so you'll save some money, at least.
>You turn to Applejack.
"Hey, can you, uh, wait here while I get the..."
>"The leash."
"Right, that thing, uh, you mind just staying here while I, uh, go in?"
>"Well, it 'aint like I could join you, given them leash laws you mentioned, right?"
>That answers that then.
"Alright, I'll just get going, then."
>And so you do.
>You stroll across the cracked parking lot right into the store.
>The interior certainly doesn't look like the most up market place in the world, but it'll do.
>It's quiet save for the hum of lights and various other bits of kit needed to keep the building functioning properly.
>Though there are a few people around, presumably employees due to their matching clothing, they too soon fade away as you go deeper into the store.
>In this empty store, disconnected from any major mental or physical stimulation, harrowing thoughts that have been planted deep in your unconscious bloom forth into your waking mind, and the full weight of your situation finally hits you.
>You bought a fucking slave.
>No ifs, ands, or buts.
>Sure, you've been able to push it to the back of your mind and laugh it off and be chummy with her.
>But at the end of the day, you're still a slaver.
>God fucking damn it.
>Granted, Applejack is seemingly accepting of you and tolerant of the current proceedings.
>Hell, she's even been acting all friendly like around you a bit and did some genuinely nice things for you of her own free will.
>But then you remember she's been treated as a literal animal by a deranged Arab who didn't even have the decency to remember what species she is for who knows how long.
>And you just feel worse.
>Not only did you buy a slave, you bought one that was so broken and so desensitized to their appalling treatment that not only does she do labor obediently and with no complaint, she does proactively and with a fucking smile that you could almost swear was genuine.
>You feel deeply unclean and horrific, and you are gripped by utter regret and shame.
[spoiler]>This is the WORST! POSSIBLE! THING![/spoiler]
>But it's too late to turn back now, so you push on.
>Throughout the entire process you only pay the bare minimum of attention needed to accomplish the task at hand.
>Rather you focus on hating and loathing yourself.
>Because, as established before, you're a fucking slaver.
>Someone needs to despise you, so it might as well be yourself.
>After a stretch of time that is somehow both unbearably long and frighteningly short, you walk out of the store.
>The deed is done, you now have definite proof of her subjugation by you in the form of the collar and leash in your hands.
>You monster.

>You are now Applejack.
>Better make the most of it.
>And you are sitting in Anon's... thing.
>Maybe you shoulda asked him what this thing was before you hopped in.
>Wow, time sure does go fast when you spend it thinking about things that really don't matter all that much right now.
>As he closes in on the whatever-the-hay-it-is and gets back inside, it's clear something ain't right with him.
>Now, you may not be a psychologist or nothing, but you do believe what you see in front of you is somepo-er, someBODY who's not exactly feeling on the up-and-up.
>You could make a few decent guesses about why he's so down, but it ain't your business to go prying into his business, so you decide to change the subject to the thing he's got in his hands.
>While you don't really like having to be put on a leash like some pet, you also ain't certain what going against that would actually do besides saving some of your pride and possibly getting Anon into some trouble.
"So, you got the leash, then?"
>"Y-Yeah..."
>Anon sounds as sad as he looks.
>Okay, maybe you should make sure he isn't too seriously down in the dumps, just show a bit of common decency and all.
"Anon, you feelin' alright?"
>"Yes."
>You don't believe that for a second, and apparently Anon don't either because he goes against it the second he can.
>"...no."
>Well, that's your cue.
>Time to kick that "it ain't your business to go prying into his business" thing to the curb and start showing some empathy.
"Alright, what's wrong, Anon?"
>And then he completely breaks.
>"I-I'm a monster! I am l-literally a goddamned slaver, and I've j-just been sitting here, ri-right here, downplaying and ignoring that-ignoring that you're my f-fucking property now a-and how fucked up that is!  A-and then I just g-go and act all oh-so-fucking chummy like your fate isn't s-subject to my whims-like y-you don't have t-to do what I say.  I-It's just all so wrong a-and I've j-just been tr-trying to sweep i-it under t-the rug and i-it's just t-the worst possible th-thing..."
>At this point Anon slips from loudly crying and melodramatic into incomprehensibly half-mumbled sobbing and melodramatic.
>You wait for a moment to think of a good response.
>Once you have it all planned out in your head, you try to put an end to this.
"Anon-"
>You are cut off by Anon continuing his incomprehensible sobbing
"Anon-"
>You are cut off AGAIN.
"Ano-"
>And yet again.
"A-"
>You get cut off before you even get past the first letter in his name that time!
>That's it!
"ANON!"
>You yell right into his ear this time, and that gets his attention mighty quick.
>He takes his hands off his ears and turns to look at you.
"Anon, calm down, you ain't a monster!"
>A brief moment pauses before he shoots back in defiance.
>"B-But I'm a fucking slaver."
"And?"
>"What do you mean 'and'?"
"What have you actually done to me?"
>"I f-fucking bought you, l-like-"
"Yeah, and in doin' so you got me away from an idiotic jerk who done kept me outside in a stone-floored pen with a bunch of wild beasts for years."
>"So that makes it all f-fucking hunky-dory, then? Just because I-I gave you a roof over your head-"
"-and a warm meal, and a shower, and the first actual intelligent conversation I've had since I wound up 'round these here parts."
[spoiler]>And all that physical affection in the shower.[/spoiler]
>"S-So that makes what I've done okay, t-then, it makes t-the fact that you are a fucking slave fine?"
>You sigh.
"I'll be honest, it don't really make me bein' a slave fine and dandy.  But that also ain't your fault, Anon.  I was already a slave before you done bought me, you not doin' that wouldn't have set me free or anythin', it woulda just meant I'd still be in that darn pen. You ain't done nothing wrong, stop actin' like you have, just calm down."
>"Y-You really believe that?"
>He sounds calmer, at least.
"Yes, I really do."
>"Th-thanks."
>Good job, you've gotten him out of his guilt-ridden stupor, and now you can move on to bigger and better things.
>"Alright, time to get this, uh, leash on, then."
"Alrighty, then."
>And so he fumbles his way behind the front seats into the space you've been taking up, collar in hand.
>Quite a bit of awkward fumbling later the collar is around your neck and the leash attached.
>With it on and Anon holding the leash, you're now able to go out and about legally.
>Yee-haw.
>So the two of you get out of his seriously-what-is-it-you-really-want-to-know-for-some-reason and Anon takes a deep breath.
>"Well, onward to the, uh, big store over there, then."
>As he says this he points to a large building.
>Well, it is big, and you don't have any reason to believe it is not a store, so a big store it is, then.
>And so the two of you are off.

>You are back to being Anon.
>Feeling recovered enough to actually function properly in a public envionrment, you stride into the Bed Bath and Beyond to-
>"Sir, you can't bring livestock into the store."
>Well, shit.
>You did not factor in whether or not you can bring in a semi-large animal into a store.
>Because you apparently can not.
>"I ain't no livestock!"
>Applejack's voice is teeming with offense.
>The employee sighs, and glares daggers at Applejack.
>She doesn't care that a pony just talked, all that matters is that it snapped at her.
>"Fine, no non-humans in the store, period."
>It's starting to feel a bit tense.
>Quick, run before this ends in a conflict!
"Alright, l-let's go, Applejack."
>For a moment it seems like she won't and will instead continue to fight with She-Who's-Name-You-Don't-Know
>But beyond an annoyed grunt, she drops it and follows you outside.
>So the two of you walk back to the van.
"Yeah, sorry, you're, uh, gonna have to just wait in the van while I get the stuff, then."
>"Okay."
>She hops back into the van and just waits.
>And so off you go all alone to do the task of buying the things that you need.
>Thus you literally just do that.
>Buying a few items you needed to stock up on anyways, and also the metric fuck-ton of shit she's going to need to keep clean.
>God damned hair having fuckers need so much shit to maintain their protein filaments.
>Oh yeah, and a bunch of shit to go with the bed you don't have yet.
>Apparently you can't just waltz in and buy one, you have to order one and wait a week or two.
>Bummer.
>Well, you got the shit you could, so you shove the cart out of the store and lose your grip on it as it rolls away.
>Fuck, run fast now before it careens into someone's car!
>CRASH!
>The runaway cart doesn't hit someone's car.
>It hits your van.
>Shit, that's going to leave a dent.
>And you gave Applejack a bit of a scare, too.
"Sorry!"
>You pull the cart behind the van and pop open the back, and Applejack turns to look at you, confused.
>"Anon, what the hay just happened?"
"I hit the van with a shopping cart."
>"Oh, are you okay?"
"Y-Yeah, I'm fine."
>You start loading up your newly bought stuff.
>"You need a hoof with those?"
"Nah, this-this should only take a moment."
>And so you load up your acquired bedding, bathing, and tiny bit of impulse-purchased beyonding.
>Shut up, the bag of assorted candies was on sale.
>Yes, you are a responsible adult.
[spoiler]>Well, probably, you might need to check with your doctor on that front.[/spoiler]
>Anyways, with all of that done, you get into the van.
"Well, that's over with."
>"So, anythin' else we gotta do?"
"Uh, no, not really, got everything I could. Nothing else we can do but, uh, head home, I guess."
>"Alrighty, then."
>And so you start on the journey home.

>One uneventful car journey later, you are in the place you planned to be.
>Your home, that is.
>You turn off the van and then bumble your ass out of the drivers seat and to the Bathroom Door of Doom's sliding cousin, who is keeping Applejack prisoner within the mid-section of the van.
>With a mighty hand, you slide the door open.
>Congrats, you have saved the pony maiden from the clutches of her steel prison!
>She hops out of the van and starts stretching.
>Now, this shouldn't be too interesting, but this also shows you something you hadn't fully noticed before.
>Alien ponies are crazy flexible.
>So it's actually quite fascinating to see that little detail explicitly shown in it's full glory.
[spoiler]>And also it's pretty damn sexy.[/spoiler]
>SPOILER TEXT, STOP, THAT'S ILLEGAL-
>[Angry Cloud Noises]
>Your burgeoning schizophrenia is interrupted by the sound of thunder in the distance.
>It looks like the overcast sky has decided to finally just go full London on your ass and is about to rain.
>Applejack also notices the battle cry of the oncoming rain, and stops her yoga routine to take note.
>You must act fast, because otherwise you'll get caught in the rain and be all wet and stuff.
>And that's terrible.
"We should probably get all that stuff before the, uh, rain starts."
>"Seems so."
>You pop open the back of the van and grab the bag of toiletries, and then she suddenly jumps into the back and starts finangling around with the bedding until she manages to get it balanced on top of her, topping it off with the pillow precariously perched on her head.
>That's pretty cute, you have to admit.
>Somehow she manages to keep it all balanced as she hops out from the back and follows you inside.
>It is quite odd how she's able to do that, yet her only capability when it comes to doorknobs are to flail ineffectually at them.
>Well, not really, those are entirely skill sets requiring different body parts to pull off competently.
>You aren't really sure where you are going with this anymore.
>Whatever, you're inside with the things, yay!
>And so is Applejack, double yay!
>"So, where should I put this stuff?"
"Uh, just dump it wherever, for now."
>Orders thusly given, she decides that right in front of the couch is 'wherever', goes there, and lets the burden she bears just sorta... fall to the floor.
>You go off for a moment to stock the toiletries and then return.
>A quick glance at her neck reminds you that she's still got the collar on.
"You probably want to get the, uh, collar off, huh?"
>"If'n I can manage it, then sure."
>So you unhook the leash, undo the collar, and make them both fuck off into a drawer.
"Well, now that, uh, that's over, we have the rest of the day to, uh, do whatever."
>"Really?"
"I think so."
>"Well, if we got the time to do so, you mind if I go askin' you some questions like you done to me yesterday?"
"Uh, sure, that seems fair."
>So the two of you sit on your couch and begin the interrogation.
>You just have to remember that no matter how cute she is, you must not give her any military secrets.
>And so you explain all about this world and where in the hell you are positioned in it.
>Well, as best as you can, given that you are you.
>But you at least manage to explain important details, like the lack of magic and multiple sapient species and that the weather and ecosystem is not in humanity's direct control.
>The last bit especially concerned her.
>When pressed on that you learned more about where she came from.
>Namely, that the only bits of the magic horse land that have normal uncontrollable weather is a forest full of D&D monsters and a few other pockets of sanity.
>Otherwise, everything under the sun has to be managed by colorful equines.
>Additionally, she said the sun, and also the moon, have to be managed by their rulers, but you're going to file that one away under 'shit royals say to exaggerate their power'.
>Oldest trick in the history book, that is.
>Or maybe the pretty pony princesses really do control the time of day in the pretty pony principality.
>Either way it isn't exactly relevant right now, especially because today was supposed to be you bludgeoning her with exposition, not the other way around.
>Unfortunately, on some topics you weren't really able to give all that good an explanation, and this was most disappointing when it came to the grand scheme of things with her what being a slave and all that, a topic you have no knowledge about
>That was when you decided to give up telling her from your doodle memory and just take her into the study and introduce her to the information superhighway so that this would go along easier.
>So begin's your search for answers about the world and why it sucks...

>It is the far off year of 2027.
>Several years ago, some of the top scientists of the world built a portal between dimensions, which connected to the land of Equestria.
>Upon the discovery of Equestria, humanity did as it always does when it finds uncharted territory.
>It invaded.
>The ponies didn't stand a chance against superior human war technology, and were quickly enslaved.
>Those who resisted were brutally killed.
>Ponies are treated as less than property, to be disposed of without even a first thought.
>Rape, abuse, ect. are all common for these slaves who suffer at the hands of their brutal human oppressors.

>Wait, this is the wrong script!
>Alright, give me a moment and I'll sort this mess out...
>[Shuffling paper noises]
>Duht, duht, duhh...
>Okay, here we go!
>The actual proper explanation behind all of this, from the top!
>Ah-hem.

>It is the far off year of 2007.
>Several years ago, some magic talking ponies appeared, pulled from the magic horse land of Equestria and with no recollection of how that all happened or how to get back.
>Upon the discovery of these cute equines, humanity did as it always does when it finds cute critters.
>It took them home with them.
>The ponies didn't really resist all that much, seeing as they were lost and without a clue and also the humans had food.
>Those who resisted were brutally left to their own devices.
>Ponies are treated okay-ish, I guess.
>Somewhat demeaning things, moderate annoyance, ect. are all common for these slaves who are non-consensually petted by the hands of their brutal human oppressors.
>Now, one may wonder how this was even allowed to happen, especially in progressive first-world nations.
>Basically, giving magic talking horses human rights would require things get done, and that's not happening until the last possible moment.
>And the last possible moment for this issue is when humanity finds the magic dressers that lead to Equestria, contact is formally established, and the pretty pony princesses get mad that humanity enslaved some of their their citizenry and threaten to destroy everything with the moon or something.
>Until then, fuck it, general animal welfare laws will have to do.
>Good job.

>Well, that's the why and how of this situation.
>You even checked multiple sources to confirm that this is, in fact, what happened.
>There are no words to describe your reaction.
>So you wont even bother trying to use words to describe it.
"So, uh, slavery is a thing because no one could be bothered to do the paperwork? Huh."
>The more you know.
>"I'll be honest, I ain't sure what I was expectin', but it probably wasn't that."
"Yeah, agreed."
>Thus the topic is settled, both of you are just kinda perplexed.
"Well then, what else do, uh, do you want to talk about?"
>"Is there anythin' important I should know 'bout all these things you got? 'Cause I ain't even got a clue what half the stuff lyin' around this place is."
>Oh, right, Applejack's from a magic pony land with very ill-defined technological capabilities.
>Probably not the most tech-savvy background to come from, so some education might be necessary.
"You know what, you knowing what some of this stuff is could, uh, could be a good thing for you to know.  Who knows, you might, uh, even be able to use some of it yourself."
>Honestly, you probably should have done this last night, but whatever, there's no time like the present.
>"Alrighty, then."
"Let's, uh, start in the kitchen and work our way from there, the stuff in there's actually, uh, quite simple."
>And so she trots off to the kitchen with you in lukewarm pursuit.
>Thus the quest for knowledge continues with a bend towards things that are more immediately practical to know.
>You show her the various appliances around your home, and she actually knows how to use some of them, but the ones she doesn't are left to you to explain to her what they do and how they are used.
>After each explanation, the two of you take some time to see if she could actually use them on her own
>And for some of your things, she is surprisingly capable of utilizing them, if in somewhat weird ways.
>Such as her approach to pushing the obviously finger-sized buttons, which is to press them by pressing her snout against them.
>Christ, why does this pony need to be so fucking cute?
>Whatever, that goes on for a bit in the kitchen, then when you get to the bathroom you take a brief detour to show her all of the extra toiletries you got at the store for her to use to be not dirty and all those other frivolous things.
>You leave the bathroom soon after, with her also getting to know the washing machine and clothes drier, though she isn't particularly capable of using them.
>Because, well, her hooves don't really allow her to turn the knobs and what not.
>Though the particular shape of the washer and dryer knobs could allow her to turn them if she tried hard and long enough.
>Finally you end up back in the living room, with you explaining what all of your various electronic whatchamacallits do.
>Which is facilitate you committing mass killing of time through audio-visual entertainment.
>Hell yeah!
>Of course, she's only able to really operate the TV itself, somewhat, and the VHS player.
>No, it's not a VCR, this can only play VHS tapes, not record.
>It's a rare Botswanian import from the 70s, so don't diss it.
>Everything else is just a bit to complicated/fragile for her unwieldy features to fully use and operate independently of outside help.
>It's actually a bit sad, all these things she either can't do or only can do at a severely reduced capacity due to lacking key physical capabilities.
>Makes you think, doesn't it?
[spoiler]>No.[/spoiler]
>But, with all that done, and with you having already introduced her to the basic use of computers and knowing for a fact she wouldn't be able to use it, that whole little bit is finished.
"So, anything else you want to ask me before we, uh, before we just go do something besides this, uh, questioning?"
>"Nah, I think I'm just gonna go use them fancy new toiletries you done got in the bathroom and get fully cleaned, that okay?"
"Uh, sure, that's what that stuff's there for, it's not like I got any hair to put that stuff on."
>So you sit down on the couch as she trots off to the bathroom.
>Only for you to have to get back up to open the bathroom door that you had so absent mindedly closed.
>Yeah, you gotta remember to keep that door in particular open for her, and also to avoid looking in there if you are unsure of where she is.
>But, after that particular event, you are sat down on your couch alone.
>So you pick up your TV remote, turn the TV on, and start flipping through the channels to kill time as the sounds of showering happen across the house.

>Wow, that was possibly the second or third best tv show about the manufacturing of wallpaper paste you've ever watched on a Fall weekend.
>"Next up on the Intelligent Programming Network, it's... a reality show involving, like, long-haul trucking redneck crab fishermen in a swamp, or something."
>Alright, that's enough of that.
>You start flipping through the channels once more.
>Reality show, reality show, game show, third thing, sitcom, reality show, sensationalized news story, game show, some documentary about the dangers of dihydrogen monoxide, reality show, an ad for environmentally complaint environmental compliance stickers to confirm that your environmental compliance stickers are environmentally compliant...
>God damn, there is quite figuratively nothing on right now.
>But your channel surfing escapades are distracted by the cutting out of the constant background noise of running water.
>Well, the sound of the running water from inside your house, the rain and it's constituent noises are still going on outside.
>And speaking of water, all this rushing liquids are reminding you that you haven't actually pissed since you got back from work yesterday.
>You should probably get on that.
>Luckily the stoppage of the shower likely means that Applejack will probably soon be out of the bathroom and you will soon be able to relieve yourself.
[spoiler]>NO, NOT IN HER, IN THE BATHROOM![/spoiler]
>You decide to preemptively get up and go to the bathroom, to expedite the process and because you have nothing better to do.
>Key word there being decided, it actually takes a bit for the rest of your body to actually obey your decisions, and a bit after that to advance to walking.
>Fucking Christ, legs, you've really got to [spoiler]step[/spoiler] it up.
>'That was bad and you should feel bad.'
>Shut up, legs.
>'No, you shut up.'
>And then you stub your toe on the kitchen table.
"Fuck!"
>God damn, why is something so minor so fucking painful!
>"Anon, you okay?"
>Though you can't see her, what with your wincing and agony and the like, you can still tell that the voice currently throwing concern in your general direction is Applejack's.
"It-it's fine, I just-"
>You take in a deep breath through clenched teeth.
"-I just stubbed my toe on something, god."
>"Really?  That sounded pretty bad."
>You pull yourself off the floor and look towards the damp mare poking her head out of the bathroom.
"Yeah, it's alright, uh, j-just finish up in there so I can use the bathroom."
>"Er, it's probably gonna take me a bit to get finished, Anon."
>Oh, right, she has all that fur and also a mane and tail that all probably takes a while to dry out.
>Well, shit.
>And you can't just take the desperate route and piss in the backyard, because it's still fucking raining.
>Double shit.
>Plus you can't hold it in much longer.
>Triple shit with knobs.
>"You might just want to come in here now and do you business now rather than just putin' it off."
>Reflexively, you are quite visibly put off by the notion she raises.
>"Sure, it ain't ideal, but if nature's callin' then nature's callin'."
>Mustering up all the reluctance you can, you speak.
"Okay, I'm, uh, coming inside, then."
>Applejack recedes deeper into the bathroom as you awkward your way over to the toilet.
"Alright, don't look."
>"I'm tryin' not to."
>Oh lord, this is more awkward than Awkward McAwkwardstien going to AwkwardCon in Awkwardburg, Awkwardsota.
>Awkward.
>Fuck, that don't even look like a word anymore, just a jumble of letters.
>Wait, what was going on?
>Oh right, you're about to get nude in front of the redneck horse lady again.
>This time without the distraction of bathing to take away from the awkward factor.
>But you must muster up all your bravery and piss this piss.
>So you mightily pull down your pants and piss.
>You, Applejack, your dick[spoiler], the spoiler text[/spoiler], everyone, just finding themselves quite uncomfortable with the current situation.
>Well, you assume Applejack's uncomfortable with this, the other potentialities are far more unpleasant to dwell on.
>For what feels like an eternity you are exposed, urinating all the while.
>It's just you and her standing in the same room with your dick hanging out and expelling bodily fluids.
>Lovely.
>However, Lady Luck decides to smile upon you by letting you finally run out of piss to... piss, so you are able to pull up your pants and end this nudist nightmare.
>You glance over at Applejack, still drying out her mane.
>Her mane and tail seem to have become quite a bit larger.
>Guess it was more matted and knotted up than you thought.
>Or pony hair is poofy as shit or it has a tendency to get frizzy or something.
>Fuck, you've never had to deal with hair, so you dunno.
>Enough of that, time to calm your rampant unwarranted and ultimately meaningless paranoia of being peeped on by someone who's already seen you in the nude.
"You, uh, you didn't look, right?"
>"Anon, I said I wasn't and I ain't!"
>She starts muttering something under her breath.
[spoiler]>"Darn thing's so small I couldn't even see it from here anyhow..."[/spoiler]
"Wait, what was that?"
>She's caught off guard, but responds after a brief pause to think.
>"Uh... nothin'!"
>And then she scrunches her snout as her eyes dart about the room.
>Hmmm...
>Well, that's a trustworthy face if you've ever saw one!
"Alright."
>With that resolved, you leave her behind for the living room.
>You flop down onto the couch and pick up the remote lying idly by.
>With the remote in hand, you are once again dragged into daytime TV purgatory forevermore...

>Aaaand, done!
>Yep, you sure outdone yourself this time.
>Oh yeah, your Applejack now, and you've just gotten yourself cleaned up all nice like.
>Not like you got anything better to do.
>You even managed to get your mane and tail tied up like you done back home.
>So now you actually almost look like yourself, just without a hat.
>Kind of a shame, but you'll live.
>Besides, where would you even find a hat big enough for you around these parts?
>Every*body* here seems to got kinda small heads on their shoulders, you don't imagine they got too many pony-sized stetsons laying around.
>Whatever, time for you to get out of this bathroom.
>So you start making your way to the front, taking care to not hit anything.
>Yeah, this place was definitely set up with two-legged types in mind.
>But you're able to pass everything without too much hassle.
>You look into the living room to see Anon, watching his fancy movie-box thing.
>Also he fell asleep during the, like, 10 or 15 minutes between when he left after that his whole dirty business and you leaving after your whole clean business.
>While having a box that makes all manner of noise and flashing lights on and in front of him.
>Amazing.

-=NO TEXT DOWN THERE, NOPE, NONE AT ALL, JUST TURN AROUND, NOTHING BUT US HELPFUL NOTIFICATIONS THAT THERE IS NO TEXT BELOW HERE. DEFINITELY NOTHING THAT HAS YET TO BE POSTED TO THE THREAD, FOR SURE=-

>Well, you might as well just let him sleep, ain't like you need to go bothering him right now.
>Now you've gotta go and find something to do.
>Something productive, if'n you can manage it.
>Then again, you ain't sure what needs to be done around here.
>Maybe you should wake up Anon and ask him.
>Or, speaking of doing things to Anon when you find him asleep on some type of chair...
>You could get all close and personal again.
>No, no, Anon didn't like when you just up and snuggled him when he has passed out last night, he probably aint gonna like it now.
>Besides, that snuggling business was just payback.
>It's not like you l-like snuggling him.
>B-baka.
>Okay, where in Celestia's name did that come from?
>What's a 'baka' anyways?
>Whatever, you're waking him up so you can actually get something resembling work done, and that's that.

>Be Anon once more!
>Wow, that was a nice nap, felt like you were sleeping for months!
>Though right now you've got this odd feeling...
>You've got something large and warm on your lap, like a big dog or something.
>You go ahead and pet it.
>Yep, fuzzy and warm, that's probably a dog, alright.
>Processing...
>Processing...
>Processing... complete!
>Wait a minute, you don't have a dog!
>You think, at least.
>So what the hell is in your lap?
>Maybe you should actually open your eyes instead of contentedly petting whatever is in your lap.
>So you crack open your eyes and look towards your lap.
>And splayed across your lap, and half of the couch, is Applejack.
>You wonder if it was racist for you to pet her like a common house pet.
>Probably.
>Also you can't feel your legs anymore, you should probably get Applejack off of you before you get some long-term damage to your ability to walk.

-=SEE, I FUCKING TOLD YOU ASSHOLES=-

SPECIAL EDITION BONUS FEATURETTE: THE BULLSHIT I MADE BEFORE THIS GREEN THAT KICKED OFF THIS MESS

Post 1: Dank Knight Rising ((>>25822785))
>Cut to what went down at the sale
>"HELLO FRIEND, YOU ARE LOOKING FOR CAMEL, YES?"
"N-No, I'm looking for a pony."
>"YES, SMALL CAMEL, VERY TRENDY THESE DAYS!"
>He pulls out Applejack
>"IS VERY GOOD USED CAMEL, ALWAYS TRUTH!"
"Uh, 'always truth?' I'll take her, then."
>"BUT WAIT, CRAZY HASSAN MUST GIVE YOU THE DEALS!"
"B-But, I just need this pony."
>"I WILL INCLUDE SOME GRAPES FOR FREE!
"No, I don't want any grapes, just need the pony."
>"I WILL INCLUDE BIGGER CAMEL AND GRAPES WITH SMALL CAMEL, AND NO LOWER!"
>Crazy Hassan has fucking Princess Celestia, and he's trying to throw her in as a freebie.
"Listen, I don't want two-"
>"IT'S A DEAL! ENJOY YOUR CAMELS."
>You leave Crazy Hassan's Used Camel Emporium out into the busy streets of downtown, confused and questioning the reality of the situation.
>You didn't even pay him.

Post 2: Emerging Patterns ((>>25832873))
>"Anon, you've been so kind to me, I ain't done nothin' to deserve this."
>You both stare deeply into each other's eyes.
>"If only there was somethin' I could do to pay you back."
>You put on your most sexual and devilish grin.
"Oh, I have an idea for what you could do, let's go outside."
>Applejack seems a bit apprehensive.
>"Uh, out in the open, like animals? A-Alright."
>And so the both of you head outside.
>"Okay, let's do th-"
>Suddenly you jump on her back.
>"Anon, what are you doin' on mah back?"
"Onwards, noble steed, we must make it to the grocery store and back by nightfall!"
[spoiler]And that is the story of how Anon saved money on gas.[/spoiler]