Stand By Equestria
In the second year of Lunas' Return the Equestrians faced a new threat to their peaceful existence. Visitors from the continent Zelmya arrived with the preachings of Joseph Stallion. In Zelmya isolated ponies formed something called a soviet union. They insisted that the Alicorns hoarded everything and they should be violently overthrown and Equestria should implement the ten planks of the communist manifesto.
The Equestrians are dismayed by the soviet ponies and don't know what communism is. They look very carefully at some of the planks.
Ninth Plank: Combination of agriculture with manufacturing industries, gradual abolition of the distinction between town and country, by a more equitable distribution of equines over the country.
Sixth Plank: Centralization of the means of communications and transportation in the hands of the State.
The answer is no and could you go away please. The communists insist that Equestria adopt a representative democracy, because they are so much easier to subvert and take over. The Equestrians aren't adopting anything and after a brief violent skirmish with one of the princesses the communists resort to more subtle means.
Rusky Hammer is a long term spy for the communist vanguard, documenting the layout, activities and social structure of Manehatten. Thankfully his cutie mark is not a hammer and sickle, although it would demonstrate his commitment back at home it would ruin his ability to remain undercover if his communist sympathies were displayed so boldly on his flank.
He likes to sit on the back steps to his room at Briar Patch's inn, smoke some weed and look across the valley. Now that it's basketball season he likes to watch the fillys who often play catch in the neighbour's back yard. He especially likes their daughter, Babs, a husky red maned, saucy faced foal who looks about nine. He'd like to have Babs, or any young filly for that matter, in his room for a little fun, but unlike Baltimare it's not easy here to find fillys you can fool around with.
Rusky notices the royal guard Flaming Lantern knocking on the neighbour's door. He hails the chief, he's had a few drinks with him and helped him replace the water pump out on the highway to Neighsville.
No one's home and the chief turns to him, "Hi Rusky, you haven't seen the Seed foal around have you?" Rusky hasn't but they talk over the fence for a while anyway. It seems that some old codger on the other side of town caught Babs and some of her pals raiding his berry patch and is upset. The guard isn't very concerned, "Babs is a good girl, stays out of trouble. So she swipes a few berries, can't see too much wrong in that. I used to do worse, but I figure I should tell her dad and let him hoofle it. They're a good, Celestia fearing family, the Seeds, I'll just tell him later."
Not long after that the Seeds arrive in their new carriage and maybe half an hour later Babs rides up with a borrowed scooter she is trying out. Soon Rusky hears the father, some kind of forestallion at the plant, shouting at his daughter in the kitchen which is no more than twelve hooves from the steps. Rusky hears all.
Babs tries to explain that it was only some berries, and the guy never picked them anyway. Then he hears dad smack the filly and order her downstairs. This has happened before. The filly's going to get a licking.
Rusky peers between the boards into a basement window. In a few seconds he sees the frightened filly come down the stairs followed by her dad with an old razor strap. He briefly glimpses Babs's bare ass as the filly is ordered to raise her tail. The action takes place well out of Rusky's view but he does hear it clearly.
"How many times have I had to punish you for stealing, and still you persist. That is a rebellion against both my authority and Celestia's. You are a wilful foal and I am going to beat you until your will is broken. Let us pray... Almighty Celestia, guide my hoof so that my daughter may be directed onto the paths of righteousness.... Now, bend over that table."
The beating begins. Rusky is thrilled and aroused by the drama. They're loud, slamming blows delivered with righteous anger. He knows from experience they'll bruise deeply if not cut.
"Are you truly sorry for what you have done? Are you ready to pray to the Good Alicorn for forgiveness?".
The filly mumbles something.
"That's not good enough!"
Two more loud blows follow and Babs pleads she is truly sorry, "...honestly."
After a silence of Stalliony seconds dad announces, "I can tell you're resisting, your muscles are tense, you're still holding on to your will."
The beating resumes, dad spewing righteous invective as he belts his daughter. It's almost as if the father enjoys his chore. Rusky knows that six blows of the heavy strap should be maximum but the father doesn't stop. The filly takes twelve of the pounding blows, shrieking and sobbing uncontrollably near the end. Her will seems broken. Rusky shivers with excitement, the filly's spunk was amazing, how he would love to hug and kiss her. He glimpses the filly again, limping up the stairs.
The beating's such an inspiration for Rusky that he's masturbating at least twice a day for a whole week, dwelling and elaborating on Babs's strapping. It's been years since he's seen a filly flogged and he dreams about it often, but he doesn't remember any as powerful as this one, which he didn't even get to see. Maybe it's the filly Babs, who he's taken a fancy to, but it's also a longing he feels has too long been denied.
Rusky had worked as a corrections officer at the fillys Reformatory in O-neigh-ah for sixteen months before starting his apprenticeship. He'd never thought much about it at the time, it was simply part of the duties of the discipline detail. He was one of two officers who restrained the fillys, cinched their ankles and wrists over the horse, and watched while the deputy warden flogged the fillys with a long, heavy, perforated strap. After he would sign a witness form and take the filly to the infirmary to be kept overnight, more to isolate them from their peers than anything else, though occasionally fillys were crippled for a couple of days.
Rusky always looked forward to the floggings most of which were carried out just before noon. They were the most thrilling events he ever saw. Sometimes up to six teenage fillys, occasionally younger, would be brought to the gym. Rusky would examine their bodies for any previous injury and cinch them in place. Sometimes a bit of force was required and Rusky didn't complain if he had an excuse to slap a pony around. On the other hoof he found it interesting to observe and sometimes soothe the fillys beforehoof and he liked to look at the fillys' faces, and of course their asses as they turned from lovely smooth bums to halfway to tomato. The fillys who took punishment without begging for mercy, screaming or crying thrilled him the most, it was like a ritual or contest, and as he watched he always secretly prayed that the filly would grit it through. And of course it was even better when it was one of the prettier, more attractive fillys who got it. Babs is beautiful.
He'd always have a great jerk off after watching a flogging and often imagined that he was the one strapping the filly. It was like giving the filly something, like making them more of a mare, and when he shags them in his fantasies after, it's like he's really loving them. Rusky realizes that he's not that interested in beating or torturing anypony, just fillys, especially those he finds attractive. And Rusky has to admit that he had a great thing happening at the fillys reformatory. When he quit the job, he never thought he'd miss the floggings and there aren't many jobs where you can get to see fillys whipped. He realizes he was stupid to quit. No other erotic image can compete with that of fillys stoically undergoing the ordeal of flogging in the well worn paths of Rusky's synaptic connections.
Rusky occasionally wonders if his fascination with flogging fillys is normal as nothing else excites him as much. But then sometimes he thinks floggings are good for fillys, toughens them up and teaches respect. It gives them the opportunity to test their mettle. He doesn't quite feel he has a calling as a flogger of fillys, though he's cheaply rationalized things that way on more than one occasion, but simply that he enjoys flogging fillys, and fillys need to be flogged, and he fits into some grand scheme where it all makes sense. It's certainly a good thing that at least a few stallions like to flog fillys. And it makes sense that those who like to do something be the ones to do it. But Rusky is also aware that giving pain to, flogging or torturing fillys is a responsible act. Fillys, because they are so profuse, need to suffer, need to experience pain so they understand and become better mares for it.
And fillys really should be shagged too, and want to be shagged. It's good for them, it teaches them what mares go through he rationalizes, it hurts, he makes sure it does, and they'll be better, more considerate mothers as a result. It's a good thing there's ponies like himself who'll go through all the trouble you have to these days, to shag young fillys. Some fillys have no sense of gratitude. Now Rusky's not advocating rape but he believes that persuasion is sometimes helpful, especially if it's painful.
The only pony he's ever talked to about this is his older brother Screwnut. Screwnut was fascinated and Rusky realized they shared some kinky ideas. Screwnut told Rusky that once, just for kicks, he and a couple of buddies had taken this zebra to an abandoned shed and tied him up and whipped him. "He just dangled there with an angry, frightened face as we took turns lashing him with a strap, it really cut and he started to bleed, I'll always remember it. He begged us to stop but we didn't. He said he'd do anything, suck our cocks, you name it. We could tell he wasn't really passed out when we all shagged him after... But you know next time, I think it would be more fun with a white filly, an all Equestrian filly."
"Like Rusky, zebra fillys don't feel pain the same. You could whip them every other day an' it would make no difference. There's no genuine pleasure in whipping zebra fillys, but white fillys, they got sensitive skin, just like us, and you'd know when they's hurtin'. White fillys gotta be the best for licking. I've shagged an' ate out a lotta fillys since but I never whipped one again."
They talked about finding a filly they could whip, a young filly about nine or ten maybe, some pony they could have a bit of fun with first then give her a good licking, and a foal who wouldn't just holler her head off. But how to find a foal? Paying a street hustler wouldn't work too well. The foal would have to be doing it for real, like it really mattered and not just for money. And how would you get the foal to take it without too much fuss? And of course you'd want to screw the foals more after. They discussed other things they might do to her but they wouldn't want to hurt her bad, just mess her up, like she'd be okay in a few days.
Most of all Rusky would like to flog Babs, tie her up and play with her, torture her for hours, and then see how much of a licking he could get her to take. But how to do it so the filly takes you seriously, so she'll put up a fight, and it's like a game as you keep doing more to her. She would have to believe you're something more than a weirdo. Fillys her age are not noted for convictions and determination. Their patriotism though, that could produce interesting results.
Rusky wouldn't mind fooling around with some of Babs's friends either like Scootaloo, a slim, muscular filly with dark purple hair about the same age. Scootaloo has huge long eyelashes and a nice butt for a slim foal, or so Rusky imagines. She could be fun to do things to. There're also several fillys who hang around with Babs and he always says "Hi" to them when he sees them on the street. There's Apple Bloom, Scootaloo's red maned friend and her friend Sweetie, is it? who's got the most fragile clear complexion, Rusky believes she's translucent. And she has such a nice round ass.
Since Babs's beating Rusky goes out of his way to be friendly to the fillys. He spends much of his spare time fantasizing scenes where he flogs Babs or maybe one of the others. Scenes where the filly is helpless, and he can inflict calculated degrees of pain, to challenge her fortitude and force her to bend to his will, to make her experience pain in a context he determines, to initiate her into something he does not understand himself. Rusky believes that making fillys suffer ordeals is... worthwhile, and his pleasure in it is evidence of that.
It is through subjugations like that, that stallions demonstrate their superiority over mares. A stallions' power derives from his superior capacity for pain and dying. Stallions should rule because they're the ones who guard, hunt, work and die in the coal mines.
Then a couple of weeks before school's out for the summer Rusky's down at the corner store and runs into Apple Bloom, Babs' cute red haired cousin playing hoofball. He buys the filly an orange juice. Apple Bloom tells him the fillys are going on a long hike, she giggles, and then take the carriage back to Central Manehatten where she has cousins, and they're letting her come even though she's only ten, and that she's bringing her friend Sweetie. But they're going to be back in time for Summer Sun. Apple Bloom's a bit younger than Rusky likes his fillys, but she is cute with her bright hair, little button muzzle and always seems to have an answer for everything. She could be fun Rusky too figures, her friend Sweetie is taller with a lovely pert ass that Rusky wouldn't mind assaulting in a couple of ways.
Rusky knows the area fairly well thanks to his spying. He knows that the fillys' route will take them across the old railway trestle at the narrows where he'd been hunting last fall. There is an abandoned roadhouse there. This gives him an idea, but it's not something he could do alone. He writes to brother Screwnut and a few days later they arrange to get together to make their plans. The plan's not foolproof, it requires some intelligence on the part of the fillys, but it promises a couple of glorious days of whipping and shagging spunky fillys' butts. What could be more fun than that?
Rusky deliberately begins acting strangely, hints that he knows magickal secrets and says there's going to be some big changes but he's very vague. When Babs tells her they're going on the hike Rusky pleads that they don't but gives no reasons. His advice is ignored but the fillys' curiosity is aroused. On the day before they leave he warns them again, it's not safe he claims.
Rusky's brother Screwnut comes to visit and they make preparations. Rusky knows the road up from Broadford that used to connect with the old mining spur not far from the old trestle the fillys will have to cross. The road is blocked off at the boundary and is overgrown with brush. Locals always harvested nuts and hunted in the fall but few enter this time of year, not from the Broadford road.
The four fillys, Babs, Scootaloo, her friend Apple Bloom and Sweetie set off just after seven on a dewy morning and follow the Gully trail down to the railroad and past the huge piles of coal out of town three miles before they branch off on an old abandoned mining spur that goes up to the headwaters. Walking is easy and even with their packs they make good time reaching the reservoir not far above the dam by eleven where they have a lunch of sandwiches they've made.
"Why do yuh think ol' Hammer didn't want us t' go on the hike?" Scootaloo asks as they share a drink after.
"I think he's probably a Commie spy," Apple Bloom states, "and that's why he's askin' us all these questions, and maybe they got their spy headquarters in a cave, and they don't want anypony goin' near."
Babs disagrees, "I bet he just wants to see if we'll tell him things, and then if we do he'll get us to find out real important things, like being kids we could go places that he couldn't. We could pretend to play along and then turn him into the CIA." (Celestias' Interfering Agents)
"Yeah, that would show them Commies somethin'." Apple Bloom declares, "I bet we'd get medals or somethin'."
"But what if he brainwashes us?" Sweetie worries.
"Maybe yours, dimwit, but my mind's too dirty."
"Anyway, we should keep our eyes peeled for anything suspicious." Babs concludes.
They make it through the fence and reach the trestle. The near end has collapsed and they'll have to climb along the fallen beams which will be awkward with their packs unless they want to trot through the deep mud exposed by the waters' low level to where they can get back on again. They'll climb. It takes them almost an hour, at one point they have to take off their packs to crawl through the collapsed section, before they make it onto the good part where they sit down to rest and eat more sandwiches.
Then two of them notice it at the same time, it doesn't quite look like a briefcase at first as it's broken open, half embedded in the mud a hundred hooves away. There are no tracks leading to it.
"I bet it fell from a pegasi."
Sweetie's pretty sure but Babs claims it could've just been tossed there. The question of who should wade through all the muck to get it isn't decided until Babs jumps in; it's almost up to her knees in places. She carries the case back and takes out two big envelopes.
"WOW! Look at this, it's all TOP SECRET and CONFIDENTIAL." Babs holds up the envelopes.
"What's it say?" Apple Bloom's impatient.
"If it's top secret maybe we shouldn't read it!" Sweetie cautions.
"It says, 'IF FOUND, IMMEDIATELY CONTACT THE COMMANDANT MILITARY SECURITY OPERATIONS AT CANTERLOT' and inside it's got all these pages like it's some kind of code, all letters and numbers mixed up, and the other envelope has a letter which says it's the formula for a Crystalline Magick bomb. And there's spies and traitors and KGB agents trying to steal the secret."
"WOW!" Apple Bloom exclaims, "If the Commies got hold of it they could..."
Visions of destruction and a Communist takeover race through their minds.
"What should we do?" Scootaloo wonders.
"Maybe we should hide it." Sweetie suggests.
"Why should we, we could just take it with us." Babs replies.
Sweetie's unsure, "I dunno, it's scary, what with that Rusky guy warning us."
"We should get it to Canterlot as soon as we can." Babs states, "We could just go back, but now that we're this far it would be a lot quicker if we went down the old Broadford road, and use the RV point"
"And if your Pop drove us back in the morning we could still make it up the Resting Dog tomorrow." Apple Bloom says.
Babs puts the envelopes in her pack and throws the briefcase in some bushes and they start up the old rail grade. Rusky suddenly appears from the opposite direction.
"Well, fancy meeting you fillys here, I didn't think you'd come.... By the way you haven't seen something like a brown leather case in your travels?"
The fillys all shake their heads and mumble 'no.'
"You fillys better be telling the truth. I have other stallions here."
Screwnut whom the fillys don't know appears briefly in the distance ahead and Rusky heads down past them towards the trestle.
The fillys huddle and decide to hide the envelopes, they find a rot hole in the trunk of a large oak and memorize a rock near it on the grade. Rusky who's circled back observes them. A hundred yards up the grade where it passes through a cut Screwnut, holding a large crossbow, steps out the bushes, "Comrade Rusky wants you to wait until he returns. You may sit but you must keep your packs on."
"I told you." Apple Bloom whispers to her cousin.
"Shut up." Babs warns.
Rusky returns in a raging mood, "The lying bastards found it, I could see their tracks. It was right where comrade Commissar said the army courier threw it just before he killed her and tossed her out of the zeppelin. We must not let our plans be foiled again. OK fillys, hoof it over."
The fillys claim they know nothing and Rusky searches each filly and her pack.
"Comrade Screwnut, they must have hidden the envelopes, and we must find out where. They will have to be interrogated... Long live the Glorious Soviet Union and the Ponys Revolution!"
Rusky takes a bundle of leather thongs and ties a length of cord around each filly's wrists and the ties the cords together behind their backs. They are marched up the old grade to the old roadhouse where the Broadford road used to meet the spur.
"Whad'yuh think they'll do to us?" Sweetie worries.
"The commies aren't smart, and besides, we're Equestrians and they wouldn't dare."
Babs reassures them. "I bet the CIA will be here anytime and zap them."
SLAP
Screwnut almost knocks Babs over. The astonished filly tries but cannot defend herself and Screwnut takes his time slapping her cheeks, smacking her crotch and poking her ribs making her helplessness obvious.
"Maybe now you understand better?"
The filly sullenly nods.
"You wait, when you get real torture you understand very good. You not be same again after."
"Ah Yes, real torture comrade Screwnut, I haven't done any real torture since we almost took over Goatamala."
Rusky sounds cheerful. "Those were the good old days, but I not like torturing stupid old stallions and whiny colts."
"I agree, I much prefer torturing fillys, Screwnut.... And, I've I brought along an extra pack of candles, ever since I heard how effective charcoal burns are on certain parts of the body I've wanted to try it out."
"But comrade Rusky, Regulations say you cannot use lit candles to torture fillys."
"But Section 7A on methods says branding may be used. We just use charcoals to burn a hammer and sickle design on their chests and on their flanks. Some day, in Communist Equestria they would be proud of it."
"Too bad there's no power source out here so we use hair curlers, I bet they'd work good on lots of places."
"Old methods work well comrade, I like beating, whipping, squeezing and twisting."
Rusky pushes open the door of the old roadhouse that's been closed and boarded up and enter the gloomy interior of the dilapidated building. When a lantern is lit the fillys can see they're in the old saloon with a heavy bar and a few tables with stools.
Screwnut and Rusky place a massive roll up flag at the top of the northern wall. The red flag unrolls all the way to the floor. The yellow hammer and sickle now covers the entire wall. Rusky and Screwnut place large posters on the other walls as well.
The large room with its beamed ceiling has been swept out and some provisions and cider are stacked on the bar. There is a bunch of planks in an iron cradle.The fillys are made to sit, a length of cord is tied around each fetlock and the ends are tied together, hobbling them to small steps. Their packs and jackets are taken off and they're allowed to stand with their hooves retied behind their backs. Rusky and Screwnut again frisk the fillys probing their crotches. "I found me a clitoris." Screwnut exclaims as he examines Scootaloo. All the fillys get fondled, little Sweetie also gets wet, at least by the time Rusky finishes frisking her but Babs's remains dry.
"focking rapists!" Apple Bloom complains.
"That's tellin' em." Babs says and the others noisily agree.
Rusky looks them over, "Well fillys, who wants to be the first to tell me where the briefcase and its precious envelopes are? How about you Babs?"
"I ain't tellin' you nothin' you Commie bastard."
SMACK Rusky slaps her face. "Don't be rude."
SMACK SMACK
"Fock you!"
"That's tellin' him, Babs." Apple Bloom encourages. SMACK SMACK
Rusky waits until the fillys settle down. "We appeal to you in the name of the Glorious Pony's Revolution to unite with us. Down with fascism, down with freedom of thought, down with free enterprise. Communism for a Soviet Equestria.... Well, how about it Babs?"
The filly spits at him. Rusky, taking his time, slaps the filly a couple of times more and then gives her a few hard jabs to her ribs and stomach knocking the wind out of her. "Fock you, you commie prick." Babs appears more angry than afraid.
"You're being very difficult Babs, we're doing this for the working class of Equestria, ponies like your father. I wish there was enough time to brainwash you, but I'm afraid if you don't tell we'll have to use torture, won't we comrade Screwnut. It's up to you."
He grabs the filly around the waist and pulls her arms behind her painfully straining her shoulders. Babs curses and Rusky yanks harder until he screams. "Okay Babs, now where are they?"
"FOCK YOU!"
Rusky yanks harder until he's sure the screams are real but he doesn't want to dislocate those lovely shoulders, just hurt the foal and watch her take it. "I really don't want to hurt you, I just want those envelopes, and a Communist Equestria."
"I won't tell, you fockin' bugger."
"Call me a bugger eh? Now that's funny because I might just bugger you but good if you don't talk."
"fock you, I don't know where they are."
"That's not the same as 'I won't tell', is it? I'm sure you do know. And I'm going to make you tell me."
Screwnut goes up to Scootaloo and bites her ears hard. The filly shrieks but refuses tell the location. Screwnut hits her with a series of slaps and punches which leave the filly gasping, but defiant,
"You can't make me squeal on my country."
A knee to the gut knocks her to the floor and Screwnut kicks her a few times. 'fock yous' punctuate her sobs. The stallions are secretly pleased, they hope the others will be inspired by the fillys' resistance. Rusky holds Sweetie by the back of her neck and demands to know the location of the envelopes.
"Don't tell 'em nothin'."
Apple Bloom calls out and the other fillys encourage her too. When Sweetie refuses he reaches for the filly's crotch and finding her vagina he jabs, the filly grimacing with pain, and sobbing after.
Rusky repeats the question and adds, "You don't think I can make you talk? Why this is just the beginning."
He starts to stab her crotch again as the other fillys watch. Rusky is careful as he feels the filly is the weak link and doesn't want her to spoil their fun by blabbing, at least not in front of the others.
"Please stop, I don't know where they're hidden, please!"
"But you do know that they were hidden?" Rusky smiles, "Then tell me who knows where they are." He squeezes again leaving the filly sobbing in agony.
Screwnut grabs Apple Bloom, the smallest of the bunch, holds her kicking futilely off the ground by the collar and asks, "Maybe this one knows?" Then he lifts her by the cords, twisting her shoulders in their joints and bounces her to increase the pain. Fortunately she only weighs about eighty pounds. Apple Bloom moans between her gritted teeth.
"Pick on someone your size, you pinko weirdo."
"Yeah, you're fockin' assholes, fockin' commie assholes."
Screwnut jabs his hoof into the foals' puny chest and belly. Apple Bloom shrieks and squeals but seems prepared to take more punishment. Screwnut never realized before that fillys this young could be so much fun to play with. Both stallions go from filly to filly slapping and jabbing them, demanding they reveal the location without any apparent results.
"Equestrians are such cowards, They fear the slightest pain. Good Soviet fillys would never tell, no matter how much they were tortured. We do not want to hurt you unnecessarily so we will give you time to think it over for a while."
They tie the fillys' wrist cords loosely up to nails on a beam so they're not too uncomfortable and go out to the veranda.
"What d'yuh think they're gonna do to us?" Apple Bloom wonders, "I hope they don't poke out our eyes or anything."
"Or squeeze our toilet bits, that's not fair." Sweetie adds.
"I don't know how much I can take." Scootaloo worries, "But if we talk they'll get the secret of the Crystalline bomb and then they'll use it on us and take over the whole continent."
"And we'd all get killed anyway."
"We can be brave as any soviet fillys, Celestia's counting on us, we can't let Equestria down, we'd be traitors, never to hold up our heads again." Babs inspires.
"But what if He squeezes my lady curtain again, I can still feel it aching."
"We can't talk even if they kill us, I'd sooner be blind or without a clit than a traitor. Like remember that guy in our story, 'Give me Apple Bloomy, or give me death.' If anyone squeals I'll kill them."
"And anyway, they can't get away with this, like we're Equestrians and the CIA will get them."
Scootaloo tries to be optimistic, "I bet they're on the trail now. Maybe coming with pegasi like in the second changeling incursion"
"I can't wait til the CIA gets Rusky and Comrade Screwnut."
Sweetie's feeling brave, "an' see what they do to them. I'd like to watch Screwnut get all his teeth pulled out."
"An' his balls cut off, and Rusky too." Scootaloo adds.
"We all gotta stick together, and promise not to tell." Babs asserts her leadership.
"Maybe we should all take an oath, like you do when you become blood brothers." Apple Bloom suggests.
"How can we do that when we're tied up, and we don't have an alicorn nearby?" Scootaloo wants to know.
"I know what!" Babs exclaims, "On our honor as Equestrians. I swear to Celestia, on my honor as an Equestrian, that I won't tell the commies nothing."
Scootaloo repeats the pledge in her most serious voice. The others follow. Then with improving unison they all repeat it again and again.
The stallions meanwhile are smoking weed and observe through gaps in the weathered wooden doors. "You sure found some pretty neat foals, Rusky. I'm sure looking forward to poking that Scootaloo filly, she sure is pretty with those big violet eyes, and her ass feels like it was just made for the strap."
"I figured you'd like her, what with her rosy cheeks."
"Yeah, and make her ass cheeks rosy too. And her friend, sorta cute, sure got a lot of spunk. I was hurting her good. I'm gonna have a lot of fun with her hide even if she is a tad small. I'll make her howl."
"Foals think they're tough at tender ages these days, but how often are they given a chance to prove it. Let her have it but I don't think her pal Sweetie could take as much.
But she got wet. Maybe torture excites her. I'm thinking of some private lessons, see how passionate she'll get to save her minge. And I'm gonna whip her ass good."
"Yeah, don't blame yuh, she's real pretty too. I wouldn't mind a turn before she gets too messed up."
"Sure, Babs's the only one I want as mine. I've dreamt about something like this ever since I heard her dad beat the shit out of her once. That's what inspired me to work on this. I'm gonna take my time and see how much I can do to her and get her to take. And then I'm gonna screw her tight little ass until I'm blue in the face."
They finish up the drugs. "Looks like we're gonna get a patriotic reception when we go in. You sure got things figured out brother."
"Wonderful, isn't it comrade Screwnut?"
When Rusky and Screwnut go back in the saloon the fillys begin chanting their pledge, "I swear to Celestia on my honor...." The stallions demand they stop, and when they don't, they start lashing them with switches across their fronts. The fillys shift to sporadic cursing.
"Well, I see you haven't made up your minds yet. But you will, one of you will tell us the location of the envelopes, won't you?" Rusky looks around at all of the fillys. "I might even have a candy bar for the filly who volunteers. It would save us a lot of trouble and you a lot of pain. You like candy bars, don't you Apple Bloom?"
"You can't bribe me, you commie. fock off!" SMACK
Rusky repeats his offer, doubles his offer to the other fillys in turn.
"Never. Not even if you kill us."
SMACK
"Equestrians are the bravest!"
SMACK
"I hate reds."
SMACK
As the fillys compete in bravado and exchange reassuring Scootaloos a smile of genuine pleasure comes over Rusky's face which he tries to convert to a sneer. The fillys are going to be more fun than he'd ever hoped. One by one they untie the fillys and then suspend them with their hooves just touching the floor. They are arranged so they can see each other and communicate. Mutual support will encourage their grit. The stallions run their hooves over them teasingly, stopping to pinch from time to time to demonstrate how helpless they are. With fillys that age it may not really be sexual excitement but the stallions find it an added thrill. Rusky wished they had a camera to capture the moment, but then he would have missed much of the fun.
Comrade Screwnut starts in on Scootaloo, he stands right in front of her, cradles her head with his hoofs and stares into her frightened eyes. "You know the location, don't you? And you're going to tell me, aren't you?" The filly tries to stare back. Screwnut slaps her pretty face, "Tell me where you hid them... Now."
"Never." the dangling filly spits.
"Soviet scientists have proven Equestrian fillys are sissies, too much friendship and freedom, so don't feel bad, OK to tell. We have plenty time to find out... And what have we here?" Screwnut lightly slaps the filly across her split peach. "Maybe you like I warm up your mare parts? Make it swell up big?" Screwnut slaps Scootaloos's vagina vigorously several times as the filly squeals and struggles.
"That's not fair, you're not supposed to hurt ponies there. Its her private area" Apple Bloom objects.
"Ah, but first plank of Communist Manifesto is abolition of private property, so what belongs to her belongs to me" He gives Scootaloo's crotch several more smarting slaps, the filly flinching but remaining grimly silent.
"You mean belongs to us comrade Screwnut."
"Ahh yes to everypony... and Joseph Stallion would decide who gets what but sadly he is not here."
"We must use these trophies on behalf of our glorious leader," says Rusky. Screwnut turns his attention back to Scootaloos recently designated communal area.
"Soon we make purple, nice purple colour like your mane, you like?... Or you like tell where envelopes is hid?"
When Scootaloo doesn't reply he starts slapping the quivering vagina harder until the filly howls. Scootaloo is too scared to curse and begins to sob.
"Here," Screwnut takes out his hoofkerchief, "Let me to clean up your face and noseblowing."
Scootaloo shakes her head violently.
Screwnut examines the filly's bruised legs, seems pleased and informs Scootaloo, "Regulations do not permit extreme measures... yet."
Attention shifts to Babs as Rusky grabs her by her untidy mane and yanks her head back painfully. Babs tries to control herself as Rusky simultaneously wrenches her head back and slaps her genitals. Rusky peers into the filly's agonized face just a kiss away. And that's what he feels tempted to do, he admits to himself, but it's not in the plan. He jerks and squeezes harder keeping it up for over a minute. He's impressed, it's incredible what the filly can take. Babs struggles in vain, sweat pours out of her, her face contorts and she shrieks. Rusky smiles, his lips inches from the filly's, "How about it, Babs?"
"FOCK YOU!"
Rusky's admiration, and lust for Babs spiral higher. He is developing an unholy love for the spunky filly. But she's soon exhausted and he doesn't want to push her too hard too soon.
"fock you, fock you, fock you." The red-maned filly curses when he relents.
"That's telling her." Apple Bloom sticks out her tongue.
A look of determination comes over Babs, "I swear to Celestia on my honor as an Equestrian I won't tell you nothing. You fockin' Commie."
Rusky sighs.
"And how about you, Apple Bloomie filly?"
Screwnut approaches the little red head. The filly glares back at her. Screwnut, grabbing her from behind, pinches the foal's tiny teats pressing his hooves together and squeezing.
"You like big titties, like mare?"
Apple Bloom writhes and screams and then when it seems he might break Screwnut eases off and becomes gentle and sympathetic.
"Please tell the location because it hurts me to torture you." he begs and kisses the helpless filly.
Then he slowly begins torturing Apple Bloom's teats until he again approaches the limit of her endurance.
The others shout encouragement to Apple Bloom and she too recites their pledge with tears of anguish running down her face. The two soviet flags on the eastern wall blot out the sun. As she sings the words in her squeaky voice Screwnut works on the filly's swollen teats until blood blossoms in the sweat on her narrow chest but stops when he feels the filly may become hysterical. He cleans the filly up with a wet cloth and puts ointment on her bruised chest.
"Now, just warm up, next time big time torture."
Rusky picks up a light hickory switch from a bundle he's cut and confronts Sweetie.
"Are you going to tell us your little secret?"
Fear pervades her sweet fillyish face, she looks at the others and shakes her head. Rusky gives her several stinging lashes across her lovely pale thighs that leave bright red weals. He experiments a few more times impressed by how delicate the filly's flesh is.
"Wouldn't you like to help make Equestria the SSE, the Soviet States of Equestria?"
When Sweetie doesn't reply he resumes lashing her thighs. The other fillys, more subdued now try to cheer her on and Rusky continues the whipping but with breaks and taunts that draw it out. And then Rusky gives her a couple of hard wicked blows across her soft white belly and demands she tell the secret.
"I don't know, I don't know." the filly sobs.
Rusky gives the pale filly two more heavy lashes. The filly still insists she doesn't know. The other fillys watch closely and beg her not to tell. This time Rusky asks if Babs knows. Sweetie doesn't answer but she's weakening and when Rusky lashes her soft chest a few times she admits that Babs knows. And what about Scootaloo? It takes only a couple more nasty swats before,
"She knows too."
And Apple Bloom, her friend?
"Apple Bloom don't know where they are."
Is she sure? Sweetie tries her best not to, but it only takes about three more swats for her to change her mind. The other fillys glare at her contemptuously. And you? Sweetie, crying nods her head.
"Now we are getting somewhere, you know that we know that you know. Isn't that right fillys? And comrade Screwnut, you know what means."
Screwnut smiles sinisterly.
Rusky gently rubs the filly's shoulders and whispers in her hear, "You're a very brave filly Sweetie to say you know."
He unties one of the filly's wrists, picks out a Choco bar and hoofs it to Sweetie.
"Now show me where the envelopes are." All eyes are on Sweetie.
"Your country for a candy bar?" Babs mocks the quivering filly.
Rusky pulls out another candy. Sweetie hesitates as the fillys taunt and encourage her.
"You are such a silly stubborn Equestrian filly. Maybe I should exercise your vagina again?"
He takes out his pearl hoofled jackknife and cuts part of her tail off. He very lightly runs the blade over Sweetie's trembling body.
"I tell you comrade Screwnut, they've been brainwashed with democracy.... What a nice clit you have. Sweetie, you're going to show me where the envelopes are, aren't you? Answer me, YES or NO."
He holds the filly's labia firmly, each between his hooves, and gently squeezes. The filly shakes her head and the pressure increases, slowly and with pulses.
"Are you going to show me?"
The others watch intently. But before very long the filly screams, "STOP. Please. I'll show you."
"That took courage Sweetie. I congratulate you in the name of the Communist Party and the oppressed workers of Equestria."
The other fillys scream at her and curse. Scootaloo glares at her angrily, "I know we shouldn'a let her come." Babs calls her a traitor to Equestria and says she would personally put an arrow between her eyes. Sweetie turns her head away in shame and sobs that she's sorry.
Rusky unties the pathetic foal, embraces her tenderly, "Don't listen to them my little heroine." He ties a thong around her tender thighs before leading her stumbling out the door.
They set off, the filly stepping carefully over the sharp stones and gravel, down the grade through the slanting sun rays of late afternoon to the place where the memorized stone is and look in the hole of the oak. There's nothing there. "You lied, you capitalist piglet. You will be punished for that." He jerks the cord tied around her tail.
"Don't, please. They really were there, I know they were. Please believe me."
"There will be no place for liars in a Communist Equestria. You do not deserve to live one minute more... I think I will whip you until you pass out from the pain before I kill you. How would you like that?"
Rusky threatens her with a switch and lightly smacks her ass. He repeats his threat.
"Please, please," Sweetie Belle hugs him around the knees.
Rusky makes her stand and gently fondles the filly, arousing her slightly. "Maybe I'll let you live a bit longer so you have more time to suffer."
Sweetie soon finds she's welcome to reciprocate and Rusky takes the filly down into the overgrown ditch by the grade where a small stream flows and washes off the filly and himself. He lays the filly down on a mossy patch of grass and gently takes the filly's clit into his mouth. It tenses immediately and she comes in seconds and again in under a minute. Sweetie knows what to do, and sucks on Rusky's generous rod until she's told to lie on her side. Rusky lies beside her, enters her without difficulty, the filly's obviously been shagged before, and enjoys the willing, anxious to please colt. He is a great fuck.
Rusky tells her she must still must be punished for lying, "Unless you want to show me where they really are."
Sweetie pleads she really doesn't know.
"After your punishment I start interrogating you again. The regulations say you must be given a twenty minute rest in between."
"Don't hurt my girly bits, please." Rusky promises he won't.
He's much more interested in testing Babs's butt, or even Apple Blooms', and seeing how much they can take.
When they return, the fillys,fetlocks bound, are sitting around despondently, their ciders to toast "the glorious Communist victory" untouched. Rusky announces,
"This degenerate foal of capitalism has lied to an official of the Communist Party of Equestria."
Comrade Screwnut looks shocked as the fillys perk up.
"She must receive the full severity of soviet justice, twenty strokes with a plank."
"Please, please, I don't know!"
"You thought you were being clever telling us lies. Well when I'm finished with you, nobody else will dare lie. Understand?" Sweetie Belle is smart enough not to protest that she wasn't lying.
"After your twenty lashes, and the bleeding has stopped, We will resume interrogation."
Babs and Scootaloo look relieved, almost happy, Sweetie hasn't betrayed Equestria after all.
"Comrade Rusky, the Party regulations say ten strokes is the maximum penalty for fillys lying."
"You are right Comrade, I'd forgotten, but there is Subsection 7 in the Interrogation Stallional saying that if the filly cries the stroke doesn't count and must be repeated."
"Ya, ya, comrade Rusky, easy to forget because Soviet fillys not cry."
The stallions tie Sweetie face down over the end of a long plank table with a couple of jackets to pad the edge. her pal Apple Bloom has been untied so she can help hold her. She hugs Sweetie around the shoulders and mumbles in her ear. Rusky holds up a plank, "Comrade Screwnut, I want you to watch closely and tell me when the cowardly Equestrian filly cries while I carry out Soviet justice."
All eyes are focused on Sweetie as Rusky slams the plank into the lovely pale flesh of her pert bum. Sweetie surprises herself by not screaming, she's so scared, she's gasping. The second blow slams into her ass. She's still too scared and her eyes are full of terror.
"You can do it! Sweetie." Apple Bloom shouts as one lands slightly lower.
"We're sorry for what we said, we thought you'd sold out Equestria." Scootaloo explains.
The next stroke is lower still but the filly is no longer aware of such details as she ejects into the feared abyss of pain, losing control. Apple Bloom hugs her tightly as blows continue to land on the struggling shrieking filly.
Babs starts singing, "Celestia BLESS Equestria!" and the other fillys join in as Screwnut lashes at them with a switch. Rusky is delighted by the fervour of the fillys and the expressions of acute suffering on Sweetie's face. Enjoying the poignancy of Apple Bloom cuddling her agonized friend he lets up on the force of the blows. Sweetie cries loudly but between sobs she complains, "You murdered me you bastard."
She has a brilliant though not bleeding bum and she's going to be sore for a while. Rusky announces that according to regulations there must be twenty minute rest period after punishments and unties the filly.
"And besides, I need time to prepare for your next torture."
The pain eclipses the last of Sweetie's personal hurting and she curls herself up on the floor and quietly sobs. Apple Bloom tries to comfort her but is waved away. Screwnut comes and kneels beside her, whispers loudly, "Regulations also say refreshments after punishment." and offers her a cider.
The stallions relax, the fillys are hobbled except for Babs who is suspended again. The fillys decide to drink their ciders and Scootaloo holds the bottle for Babs to drink. Screwnut who's become fascinated with Apple Bloom watching her cuddling her pal decides to begin her torment.
He checks his clock, "Time to start interrogations."
He looks at each filly, appears to ponder and says, "Better maybe we beat little one first, good for practice."
He brings an old low back armchair and ties Apple Bloom over it. She is facing the communist flag on the western wall The delicate red head's body has relatively few marks except for her mangled nipples. Screwnut strokes her tiny buttocks.
"What a pretty bum. It is shame to beat it without cornholing it first." Screwnut pats it affectionately.
"Lay off, you focking turd." Apple Bloom screams.
Babs, furious, spits and curses, "fockin' asshole, you got no right to touch my cousin."
"You are belonging to communist party now but still, good Communist not screw little filly, not like capitalist pig. But maybe you like make sex with your cousin?"
"fock you, I ain't no queer." Babs blurts.
Rusky hoists Scootaloo over and positions her so that her exposed vulva is a few inches in front of the eyes of her friends. She is looking at the big red Soviet flag on the north wall. Screwnut takes a plank
He bends down to look at it closely. "You have pretty one."
Then he smacks it lightly with the belt.
"Now, you like sex little Apple Bloom, be so sweet, friend shagging friend, like real love."
The answer seems to be 'no', and with Rusky holding the desperately struggling filly Screwnut starts whacking Scootaloo's crotch top and bottom and side to side with the plank, not too heavily but enough to make the slender dark haired filly writhe.
Her mare parts turn bright pink and dark blotches begin to appear.
"Is more pretty now, don't you think?" Screwnut stretches the vaginal lips.
"So make hurt better, OK?"
Babs screams "Fock you. Fock you Commie turds!"
Screwnut turns to Babs, "You like d'same?"
Apple Bloom can't stand seeing her friend tortured any more and pleads,
"Stop, don't hurt her any more."
Screwnut is disappointed, he would have enjoyed seeing Scootaloo fuck her friend, it could have been such a charming sight. Then he remembers supposedly interrogating Apple Bloom. Deciding that the planks may be a bit heavy for the small filly he picks up the filly's belt. The lighter instrument will prolong his fun and allow other things. The foal is still tied over the bar chair with her ass exposed. Screwnut fondles Apple Bloom's skinny thighs and narrow bum.
"Now little filly, you want to talk, you want to tell us where the envelopes is hidden?"
The red head defiantly glares at her. Scootaloo kneels beside her friend, puts a foreleg around her shoulders and whispers encouragement. Screwnut starts strapping the small filly's dainty bottom and thighs lightly, but dozens of times until they pinken evenly, then he slows down but increases the force. Scootaloo, hatred in her eyes, holds her friend tightly. But Scootaloo's soothing embrace and words cannot prevent Apple Bloom's grit from eroding as the pain becomes more intense. Rusky is thrilled by the tender sisterly scene which helps refuel his lust. Screwnut stops after every three or four strokes and asks Apple Bloom if she's ready to talk,
"for Joseph Stallion's sake".
Apple Bloom begins reciting the pledge and the other fillys join in. Babs has quite a good voice. When a particularly nasty blow makes Apple Bloom shriek Scootaloo screams angrily at Screwnut, "FOCKER!"
Screwnut tells Scootaloo, "You not like me giving your friend official regulation interrogation, then you make her talk." Apple Bloom's bottomside is getting as bright as her hair, her face is scrunched up in pain and she keens loudly. She's taking a heavy beating for her size, as heavy as they give in slave pits. The filly's flesh is becoming raw and Screwnut's afraid of really injuring the foal.
Scootaloo is desperate, she stands up and screams, "Stop. Please comrade Screwnut, stop. PLEASE!"
"What do you suggest?" Screwnut inquires as he leers at the filly.
Scootaloo has no answer and glares back.
"Do you want to talk, tell us where you hid envelope?... Or you like talk private?"
Scootaloo raises her hooves but the Stallion easily knocks over the hobbled filly and kicks her a few times. Screwnut can wait no longer, he picks up Scootaloo and carries her upstairs to the old saloon keeper's quarters. The stallions had prepared a couple of places with old mattresses and blankets for such times. Screwnut cuddles and fondles the filly,
"You not like see sister Apple Bloom suffer? You wait, regulations say tomorrow we can use knives," he stretches out Scootaloo's tail,
"and gouge out one eye."
Scootaloo begins to cry and Screwnut tries to soothe her.
"Maybe instead you like..?" he begins fondling the filly again. Carefully holding one of Scootaloo's legs so that he can twist it painfully he sucks on the filly's clit.
"Maybe I not cut your friend or take eye." The Stallion stands over the filly. Scootaloo understands and forces herself to suck the Stallion. For Screwnut, aroused to an unprecedented pitch, the blow job is only an hors d'ouevre and he fucks the reluctant filly twice. However, as a "reward" he licks the filly after.
Babs is let down and the stallions bring out snacks and drinks. The fillys nibble sullenly while Rusky and Screwnut tell them how much better things would be in a Communist Equestria. After smoking and taking the fillys out one at a time to wee Rusky announces that according to the Party regulations interrogations must resume. Rusky's anxious to work on Babs, he knows the filly can take a lot more punishment, and he's counting on her to put on a good show to encourage the others.
After he's suspended again Rusky picks up a plank and confronts her, "It pains me to hurt you, Babs. I wish there was enough time to brainwash you, I like brainwashing much better, no blood, but I'm afraid I'll have to torture you as best I can."
He pauses for effect before continuing, "You don't have to be a dupe of capitalist propaganda Babs, the working class is not free in Equestria. You can help liberate them! Now, for the sake of a Communist Equestria tell me where you've hidden those envelopes."
Babs spits at him and taking her time Rusky starts whacking her sturdy thighs and legs with their fine golden fuzz. He's pleased at the defiant way Babs is taking her thrashing but is careful to pace her torment and lectures the filly.
"Think of the suffering in Equestria, think how you can serve the oppressed working class by helping us find those envelopes." he pleads as he slashes her across her peach slit.
Babs twists and grimaces, "No fockin' way am I gonna tell you anything, you pinko" The other fillys cheer her on.
"Just think, no more freedom of thought and all that responsibility! Wouldn't that be nice? ... And no more whipping."
Rusky becomes extremely aroused again and when Babs is brightly striped he drags her upstairs, sits her in a corner and ties her loosely but securely with her arms over her head.
"Don't you think you should be reasonable?"
He holds the filly's vulva and lightly massages it.
"I can make you suffer anytime I want, as much as I want, but I'd much sooner give you pleasure."
He gives a little squeeze and then hoping to get the filly aroused, he starts to play with the filly's clit. He tries sucking it vigorously but nothing happens. Babs just looks at him blankly. Rusky's getting frustrated, he's already seen the filly wet a couple of times, once when he was hurting her, but now nothing he tries seems to work. Rusky doesn't want to forcibly rape the filly he has become so infatuated with. He wants her to cooperate even if it takes some painful persuasion. He would love to get her horny and make her come, but he doesn't want to simply break her will like her father does. Rusky lightly strokes her body until Babs starts writhing.
"It tickles!" the filly screams.
Rusky then decides to deliberately tickle the weary filly, but he has to stop when the filly becomes hysterical. Another round lost. And he has hurt her, her front is a mass of angry welts, her shoulder joints are strained and her labia is swollen and very tender indeed. It's been a lot of fun, and Rusky's still looking forward to strapping the filly's ass. Rusky is disappointed but decides to wait and shag her later, he's in no hurry and there's other fillys to play with. He drags her back downstairs.
Screwnut is busy whacking Scootaloo with the planks. She's tied face out to a post. He is being playful, often softening the blows.
"Not so bad, eh?" and then he gives her a couple of nasty whacks.
"Is that better?"
The filly is in agony but still determined. Apple Bloom, snuffling but still stubborn is finally untied, her little bottom is well bruised, purpling in places. Rusky allows her to put her dress on and lie down and he ties her hooves apart from each other. Rusky watches Scootaloo's torment for a minute, encouraging comrade Screwnut to lash harder in the name of Communist Equestria. Then he turns his attention to Sweetie.
He's getting to like the young filly and plans to screw her again but decides on some more torture first. Taking the lighter filly's belt he orders Sweetie to lie across his lap. "How did you like your friend Apple Bloom's spanking? Lots of nice pretty colours eh?"
He massages Sweetie's already inflamed buttocks.
"You have more meat on your bum, better for the belt. I make yours look even nicer."
With much talk he lazily straps the filly turning her on her side to get at her belly and the fronts of her thighs. Sweetie loudly complains and sobs. Rusky neglects to press the questioning.
Then just in time Screwnut sees Babs trying to sneak out the door and catches her still hobbled a few yards away.
"Comrade Rusky not like runsaway. Now you get special treatment."
He drags her struggling along the ground, up the steps and back into the old saloon. The stallions decide to suspend Babs by her wrist cords from two big nails on a beam and her fetlock cords are tied stretch taut to bent over nails in the floor so that she's stretched painfully and her entire body is exposed. Rusky decides to leave her suspended for a while before punishing her. He puts an arm around Babs's waist and wipes the sweat from her face,
"Anything you like?"
He holds a drink to her surly lips. The filly has a few sips. Babs complains about the cords which are cutting into her.
"I am so sorry about that, I will resume your interrogation as soon as I finish my recreational smoke, unless you want to talk."
He offers the filly a spliff and she inhales deeply.
"You know you have such a beautiful ass, so soft and round, it would be a shame to see it covered with bruises and cuts, and these," he strokes the filly's genitals in his hoof,
"How much better for them to give you pleasure than the pain I will inflict if you don't tell me your little secret. The regulations do not cover genitals, do they Comrade?" Screwnut agrees.
"They won't be very pretty when they're scratched, swollen and slippery with blood, will they?" For emphasis Rusky crushes her spliff with his hoof.
There's fear in Babs' big green eyes, "You can't scare me, you commie weirdo bastard."
Rusky advances towards her menacingly.