Chapter 1
Stepping off the Ponyville Express and into Appleloosa Station, Big Macintosh could see the frontier town had changed a lot since he had last visited, most noticeably that it was much more crowded and that festive decorations swayed in the light breeze all around him. His cousin Braeburn? He hadn’t changed one bit.
“Howdy, cuz’! Welcome to Aaaappleloosa!” Eeyup, not one bit. “So glad you could make it, Mac. I’ve been wantin’ to get you down ‘ere to see the festival for quite a while now. I was worried the invitation might not make it to ya.”
It had certainly been an interesting invitation. With Appleloosa being such a new and far away town, mail from Braeburn was a rarity. However, one week ago Big Macintosh was preparing for another hard day’s work when Parcel Post arrived with such a letter.
“Hey Mac, got some mail for you!” the mail pony said as he walked up onto the porch, already reaching into one of the mail bags strapped around him.
“Thanks, Parcel. How's the new route treatin’ ya?”
“Oh just fine. After Miss Hooves had her accident, it’s made for a little more work for the rest of us. But that’s ok, you get used to it after a while,” Parcel explained as he finally found what he was looking for in the bag, hoofing it over to Macintosh.
“Yeah, I know the feeling. Have a nice day, Parcel.”
“You too, Mac.” Turning and waving back to him, Parcel made his way back down the porch and started the trek on the road back to Ponyville.
Of course, as Parcel Post was walking away, Big Mac couldn’t help but get an eyeful of a certain package the pony was packing. Not that he was complaining, that uniform certainly framed everything nicely.
He let his eyes linger for a couple of seconds, and then tore them away from the ‘male’ pony (he chuckled to himself) and to the actual mail. While most of it was the usual (bills, orders for apples, and an anonymous complaint about cider shortages), he was surprised to see one was from his cousin Braeburn, all the way from Appleloosa. While they had seen each other at a recent Apple family reunion, he usually didn’t hear much from him outside of such gatherings. He had been to Appleloosa only a couple times, usually to help out when the apple farm was first starting.
As he opened the envelope and took the letter out, he took one look at it and quickly shoved it back in. Walking inside the house with a blush blazing across his face, he closed the front door and made his way to the kitchen. Luckily, his coat didn’t show off the glow of his cheeks to his family as he passed them in the living room. He put the mail on the kitchen table and called out, “Just the usual. Gonna head up and get ready for work today.”
“Alright, just remember we got the east fields to do today,” called his sister Applejack in reply as he walked back into the living room, keeping the letter from Braeburn out of his family’s line of sight.
Giving her a quick nod and an ‘Eeyup’ in reply, he made his way to the stairs and up to his room. Once inside, he shut the door and reopened the letter.
It was a postcard, from Appleloosa, with a picture on the front. A picture of a close up shot of a stallion’s behind while wearing some bright green panties, with the words “You are invited to the annual Fruits of Fertility Festival!” in big letters.
“What in Celestia…” Turning the postcard around he saw a letter, which read:
“Howdy, Big Mac!
It’s been awhile, cuz! Haven't seen you since the last family reunion! Hopefully, this letter reaches you in time, mail isn't the most reliable down in ol’ Appleloosa. We got a big festival coming up down here. The Fertility Festival. It’s an old buffalo tradition that we’ve turned into a big shindig now that we all get along real nicely. It’s really exploded in popularity the last few years and, well, if you can tell from the picture on the front of yours truly, I think you would really like it. Might even convince you to partake in the ‘fruit’ competition, if you know what ah mean. Let's just say that, from hooves on experience, I think you would have a good shot at winning the thing. The festival starts next week and runs through the first weekend of fall. All you need to bring is yourself!
Hope to see you soon,
Braeburn”
A week and a train ride later, he had arrived in Appleloosa.
“Good to see ya too, Braeburn.”
“Ah’m just so excited! I’ve been in charge of a lot of the prep for the festival this year and I just can’t wait to show it off!” It sure seemed like he was excited, he was nearly shaking in place. “Looks like ya brought some stuff for the competition,” he pointed to the saddles on Mac’s back, “can’t wait to see what you got planned. Come on, cuz, ah’ll show you around a bit then we can get you all set up to compete.”
Following behind Braeburn, he looked around at all the changes that had happened in Appleloosa. The town seemed to have doubled in size, maybe even tripled, since the last time he had been here. Even the station he was walking out of had grown exponentially; what used to be a small shack had become a full grown station with dozens of ponies who had arrived for the festival coming and going. Right outside of the station at the start of the main street of Appleloosa was a large wooden arch with the town’s name etched into it. Below that was a banner that read “Welcome to the Fertility Festival!” in bright lettering.
Going onto the main street of Appleloosa, he saw lines of booths on each side of the dirt road. From pies to hay fries, dolls to jewelry, the vendors had everything under Celestia’s sun on sale for the festival. Further down, there was even some tents that, from what he could see people were coming out with, sold some more ‘adult themed’ items. Behind the booths and tents he could recognize some of the older buildings like the millinery shop or the salt bar. He could certainly remember what happened the last time he and Brae had visited the bar after a day of hard work in the fields, and to this day he still wondered how Braeburn had been able to fit BOTH of them inside him…
Shaking his head to refocus, Big Mac noticed that Braeburn had been talking during the little tour they were on. Brae certainly knew how to talk a pony’s ear off, even more so when he was really excited about something. Not that it was a bad thing, but Big Mac wasn’t much of a talker himself and preferred saying only what needed to be said. He usually zoned most of what Brae said out, listening to only as much as he needed to follow along.
Looking in front of him at his impromptu tour guide, he got a small sense of deja-vu as Braeburn’s tail would swing side to side to reveal that he was wearing the same bright green panties as he had on the postcard. It seemed to be quite the tight fit, hugging the curves of his rear and leaving just about nothing to the imagination. Two large bulges hung slightly between Brae’s legs, stretching out the green and white striped cloth over the balls they contained. Letting his eyes drift further up, he could make out the curve of the pony’s taint and then a barely noticeable bulge at the base of his tail.
Waiting for a break in Braeburn’s monologue, Macintosh said, “Sure are lookin good from back here Brae. You competing this year, too?”
Braeburn gave a short chuckle in reply, “Nah, I’m one of the judges this year. Just felt like I should dress up a little for the festival is all,” stopping to give his rear a shake.
Smiling to himself, Big Macintosh realized they had almost made it to the end of the road where it turned into a long trail that stretched out to the horizon. He could see that a stage had been set up in front of a large, newer looking building with an INN sign on the roof. A decent sized crowd had already surrounded it and more were slowly trickling in.
Braeburn gave him a nudge and pointed over to the stage. “And that there is where the competition is goin’ down. Everyone competin’ is gathered in the main room of the inn where we have the sign-ups set up. Anyone not from ‘round here gets to stay the night for free.” Walking into a small alley next to the inn, Braeburn lead him to a side entryway and held the door open for him to enter. “Let’s head on in and get you signed up.”
Upon entering the inn, Big Mac looked around the room. Tables had been set up and surrounded with cushions, most of which were currently in use by the other contestants. He could certainly see what Braeburn meant about the festival’s popularity. There were creatures from all over; plenty of your everyday Equestrian ponies, but from his vantage point he could see a crystal pony, a couple of large buffalo over by one table, and even a zebra and a griffon chatting in the corner. While he didn’t see anyone that he personally knew from Ponyville, he figured that one of the buffalo he could see was the chief that Applejack had told him about before.
'I hear buffalo’s got a nice set… I wonder what the chief is packing.i While he was thinking to himself (and trying to get a better vantage point), he heard his cousin approach him from behind.
“We’re almost ready to start the competition.” Turning around, Big Macintosh noticed that Braeburn was with a much smaller buffalo. Before he could ask, Braeburn introduced him. “This here is Little Strongheart. She’s the daughter of the chief and she’s gonna be helpin’ me judge this year.”
The small buffalo extended her hoof in greeting and said, “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Macintosh. Braeburn has said a lot of good things about you.”
“Pleasures all mine, Miss, “ - taking her hoof into his and shaking it - “don’t worry about the whole Mr. thing, Big Mac is just fine.” Turning his attention to Braeburn, he asked, “So what exactly am I supposed to do out there?”.
Braeburn waved him off casually. “You don’t gotta worry ‘bout a thing, cuz,” he pointed over towards a table that had been set up in the corner of the room with a line of ponies in front of it. “Just head on over to the line there and sign yourself up. When they call your number all you gotta do is go out there, stand on the marked spot and show off the goods to the crowd.”
Little Strongheart picked up the explanation from there. “We’ll have contestants come out in order one by one where we’ll judge them on a variety of factors. You won’t have to do anything. After we finish ‘testing out the goods’,“ - giving Mac a sly wink - “ you can come back in here and hang around or you can come out to the crowd to see the rest of the contestants.”
As she was finishing up her explanation, the door opened and a brown stallion with a big black mustache and a silver star pinned to his vest entered the room. He called out “Everyone, the contest will begin in thirty. I’d like anyone not signed in to line up here. Braeburn, Strongheart, please make your way to the judge’s table.” As someponies left their seats and got up in line waiting to register, Braeburn and Little Strongheart made their way out the room, turning one last time to tell Big Mac “Good luck!” before leaving.
One by one, Big Macintosh got closer to the front as contestants got assigned their positions. Some seemed excited, some seemed nervous, and some of the contestants going out early rushed upstairs to get prepared. Reaching the front of the line, Big Mac noticed that the mare handing out and registering the numbers was someone he knew from Ponyville.
“Howdy, Ms. Harvest. Surprise seeing you here. How was the carrot harvest this year?”
The orange-maned mare looked up and smiled. “Oh, Big Mac. Nice to see you! Everything went just fine and dandy with the crop this year. I was invited by my cousin to come down here and help out for the festival.” She wrote his name down in a ledger and handed him a numbered card with a looped string through it. “Got a big booth out front with some carrot cake if you’re interested after the competition.”
“Eeyup, I’ll probably take ya up on that offer. Have a good day miss.” Putting the card around his neck, he turned and accidentally bumped into a large, furry mass. Looking up the wall of dark brown fur, he saw that it was the buffalo he had assumed to be the chief earlier. “Excuse me, sorry for bumpin’ into yah.”
“No problem young one.” The large buffalo nodded towards the card resting on Big Mac’s chest. Looking at the two cards, Big Mac saw he was the twenty-third contestant, and that the chief was the twenty-fourth. “Seems you’re the one going up before me. May the spirits bring you luck today, friend.”
“Thanks, uh…”
“Chief Thunderhooves”
“Thank you, Chief Thunderhooves.”
The Chief went up to the second floor, presumably to get ready, so Big Macintosh decided he better do the same. Adjusting his saddlebags, he made his way up to the guest rooms to prepare for the competition ahead.
Macintosh was getting anxious. Number twenty-two had been called out a few minutes ago, and he had just put the finishing touches on his preparations. Waiting by the curtain at the front door of the inn that led out onto the stage, he could hear the Sheriff from before saying something followed by applause from the audience. The curtain was pushed aside and a black pegasus stumbled in, a big grin on his face. After watching the pegasus walk over and collapse on some cushions that had been set up and then waiting for a few seconds, he heard the Sheriff call into a microphone, “Next up, number 23, Big Macintosh from Ponyville!”
Exiting through the curtain, he was blinded for a moment from the desert sun. He began to make out the crowd as his vision returned to him, and boy was it a crowd. He guessed the whole town had come out for the competition, as well as members of the buffalo tribe and some ponies visiting from other places near and far. The stage wasn’t very large, having been set up in front of the inn and jutting out into the road. To the left, the Sheriff-turned-announcer was standing next to a microphone and to the right was where the two judges sat. He walked forward to the spot marked on the stage and turned around to face away from the crowd.
“Contestant, present!” came the call from the Sheriff.
Following the command, Big Mac widened his stance to let his balls hang freely between his legs and then began to slowly raise his tail in a dramatic fashion. Smirking to himself, he figured he might as well give the crowd a show. Once his tail had risen high enough to reach the bottom of his sac, he lowered his tail slightly and then shot it up the rest of the way in an instant, earning a gasp from the crowd that brought a smile to his face.
Just as his name would suggest, Big Macintosh had a big pair between his legs. Ironically, the testicles seemed to be about as big as apples and rested in a large, dark sac. The whole thing was covered in a very light fuzz and had veins that slightly bulged out across its surface. The balls had a nice shine to them, mostly due to what his preparations had done to them. After giving them a nice wash with apple scented soap and a thorough rinse, he had taken his scrotum and applied a thin layer of caramel across its surface, and then had drizzled streaks of chocolate in waves to make them look almost like a pair of caramel apples.
“Judges, begin!”
He could hear Braeburn and Strongheart walking up behind him, and once they were close enough he waved his backside to rock his balls back and forth.
“I could never get tired of this sight. They don’t call you ‘Big’ Mac for nothin cuz! That’s ah nice set you got back here. Tasty lookin’ too.” He could hear one of them working with something, and then felt a cloth strip being wrapped around his balls. “Nineteen inches. That’s one of the bigger sets we’ve seen today.” The cloth strip unwrapped and then was pressed up at the top of his sac, near his taint, and dangled down to the bottom of his balls. “Twelve and a half. Gettin’ hard to measure with all this caramel getting onto it.”
He heard Strongheart slyly remark behind him, “Might as well skip ahead a couple steps and help clean up.”
“Just what I was thinkin’ Miss Strongheart. How ‘bout you take the left and ah’ll take the right.”
It didn’t take long before a warm, wet feeling trailed up his right ball, and then the feeling repeated itself on the other. After a moment’s pause, he tensed up and shivered in pleasure as his balls were repeatedly assaulted by a pair of adventurous tongues. Taking a peek between his front legs, he was able to see that Braeburn and Strongheart had laid down underneath his balls at an angle so that the crowd could see between them and get a glimpse of the action.
Their constant licking was jostling his balls in their sac and only abated when one of them backed off to lick their lips from the sweet coating surrounding his stones. The two judges were a good team, making sure that at least one of them was attacking the treat before them at all times. When one began to drift up and sample the flesh connecting ball and cock, the other would scoop the balls up with their muzzle to slurp at the hard to reach underside.
Before long, he had to lift his head back up and gasp as pleasure rocketed up his spine. He could feel his sheath quickly filling up, and soon the head of his stallionhood started to grow out towards the ground. The slimy appendages between his legs had quickly been joined by lips that kissed and nipped at his scrotum.
Suddenly, the feelings emanating from his groin paused as he felt one of them start to crawl between his legs and flip around onto their back.
With heated breath, Little Strongheart commanded from underneath him, “Lower your backend a little, Macintosh”
‘Well if that’s what she wants...’ Checking between his legs, he slowly lowered his balls towards the face of the buffalo below him. Meeting him halfway, she lifted her head and let his scrotum drape over her muzzle in front of her eyes. He began to rock slightly back and forth, rubbing his bifurcated balls all over her muzzle. At the apex of one of his small thrusts, she pulled back slightly and opened her muzzle wide.
For a moment all he could feel was warm breath pulsating against the skin of his scrotum, but the feeling was quickly replaced when the bottom half of his balls were surrounded by a warm, wet cavern. He gasped out as Little Strongheart went to town on his balls, trying to swallow more and more of his large set down into her mouth. Though she couldn’t fit both of them entirely, she more than made up for it by slathering her tongue all over what she could.
His balls were suddenly released out into the air with a loud popping sound, where he could feel the breeze flow across the saliva soaked skin of his sac.
“Mmm mmm mmm, I can see why Braeburn always talks about Apple Family apples. Such a delicious taste.” She gave his balls a couple of pokes and prods, then lifted them up with her hoof. “Good weight, respond very well when played with.” Shoving her nose into the crook between his two balls, she gave a loud sniff. “Smells amazing. The caramel was a really nice touch all around.” She darted in for another couple quick licks where what little was left of the caramel was still coated on.
“Hey! Save a little for me!” called out his cousin, who had been left out of all the fun. After some maneuvering, both Braeburn and Little Strongheart had squeezed in between his legs on their bellies and dove back in, each taking one of his balls into their mouths. Tongues slathered over the skin of his scrotum, jostling the balls contained within. He could feel a tugging sensation as they began to suck on each of his stones.
By this point, his cock was fully hard and had begun to leak pre all over the stage floor. The bottom of his stomach had become wet from his stallionhood flexing and slapping up into it.
Once again looking between his legs, he saw how his balls had been split and slightly pulled apart between the two into their muzzles. The skin had been pulled taut between them as they pulled and sucked at his jewels. They both looked up at him, gave him as good of a smirk as they could with their cheeks bulged out with stallion balls, and reached up to stroke at his rock hard stallionhood.
Already turned on, it didn’t take long for him to reach his peak. With a loud groan, his stallionhood flared out and began to pump out his creamy white seed. Both judges released his balls as he began to cum, continuing to rub his throbbing cock up and down as they watched his balls pull up and rhythmically clench and unclench in orgasm. After several burst of cum that left a puddle on the stage floor, his orgasm began to die down to a slow trickle as he panted out in exhaustion.
After one last clench as both judges leaned in to kiss one of his balls, the sheriff called out, “Let’s hear it for number twenty-three, Big Macintosh!” which was met with a small round of applause from the crowd. As Big Mac slowly regained his bearings, he could vaguely hear Braeburn and Strongheart giving him praise, and then he gingerly made his way back to the contestant’s room. With a soft grunt, he sat on one of the cushions in the room and basked in the afterglow for a few minutes.
‘That sure was something…’ Getting up to get a towel and wipe himself down, he heard a commotion outside. Two of the previous contestants were at the curtain, peering out at what was going on.
“Did you see ‘em? My word, how can he do anythin’ with a pair like that ‘tween the legs?”
“I dunno, but I can certainly see why he’s the favorite to win!”
Finished cleaning up, Big Macintosh made his way to the exit and worked around the crowd to get a good view of what was going on. As he made his way close enough to the stage to see, he got a good look at what all the commotion had been about.
“Sweet Celestia…”
There on the stage was the leader of the buffalo, Chief Thunderhooves. Turned away from the crowd, his assets were on full display and quite the sight to behold. The Chief’s stones were massive. Large, oblong spheres that dragged down past his hocks. The black sac that contained them was perfectly smooth and devoid of hair, appearing almost polished as they lightly shined in the desert sun. Gravity had pulled the skin taut over the Chief’s family jewels, and the testicles seemed to be so large and heavy that some of the skin surrounding them had been pushed down to form a small point at the bottom of the sac.
And that was just his plain, natural balls; the Chief had also done quite a lot with them for the competition. A wide, light blue band that was studded with different kinds of jewels was wrapped around the top of the scrotum, ensuring the balls were pulled down low. From the band, several sets of looped turquoise beads hung freely and swayed with the balls whenever the Chief adjusted his stance. The scrotum had been painted with all kinds of patterns that circled around the entire set. Where some of the other contestants had dressed their balls up, the Chief had created a work of art that had a more ‘ritualistic’ vibe to it.
Big Macintosh heard Braeburn whistle out in amazement. “Whoo-wee Chief. How do you walk around with these between ya legs? I can’t imagine stampeding with these flopping all around.”
Thunderhooves gave a deep, guttural chuckle, the vibrations from it causing his balls to jostle and shake. “You get used to them after awhile.”
While it appeared that he had missed the measuring part of the judging, he certainly didn’t need to be told they were huge seeing as these were the largest he had ever come across. Combined, they must have been bigger than his head! He watched as Braeburn began to rub at the massive testicles before him, seeing how the testicles flowed around in their fleshy sac. Braeburn hefted up the balls with his hoof and then let them drop, swinging like a pendulum back and forth between the buffalo’s legs, the decorative beads clinking together. Mac realized that Strongheart had apparently decided to not join in and was sitting in the judge’s area, but assumed that she wasn’t as open to ‘family relations’ as his cousin Braeburn was.
After playing with the large bovine balls for a couple of minutes, Braeburn lowered his face down and began the oral part of the test. Making his way to the front row, Mac could see how the skin bunched up where Brae was licking, and how the skin was left with a nice spit shine after the tongue had passed. Surprisingly, the paint was not smudged at all through the tongue lashing. Where Braeburn had been able to fit one of Macintosh’s balls in his mouth, there was no way he could with the set before him so he settled with sucking in mouthfuls of scrotal skin. The chief gave a shudder when Braeburn moved to the bottom of the sac and sucked on the point of skin there.
Chief Thunderhooves had begun lightly rocking back and forth, tapping his balls into Braeburn’s face. “You certainly know your way around back there, Mr. Apple…”
Braeburn backed off for a second, smiling at the rear end in front of him. “Trust me chief, I’ve had a lot ah practice.” He buried his face in between the two testicles and began to rub his face back and forth across its surface. Giving it a big wiff and planting a kiss on each ball, he backed off again and crawled underneath the buffalo. Mac noticed he was too far up to suck on the chief’s balls as Strongheart had done with him and waited to see what his cousin’s plan was.
“Let’s see if we can’t finish ya off.”
Reaching with both of his rear hooves, Braeburn began to play with the black buffalo balls. He then leaned his head forward and wrapped his lips around the chief's sheath, sucking and licking at the tuft of skin he found there. Thunderhooves gave out a loud bellow and began thrusting his hips towards Braeburn’s mouth, burying his rod into the pony’s mouth. Though he couldn’t see it past the large testicles that swung back and forth like wrecking balls, Macintosh could hear the slurping and swallowing sounds coming from his cousin.
Harder and harder the chief thrust into Braeburn’s mouth, loud gurgling sounds coming from the pony below. The stronger thrusts caused the buffalo balls to swing forward and hit Braeburn in the chest with a loud slapping sound. At the apex of their swing, Big Mac could see between the buffalo’s legs at Braeburn’s face. From this distance, he couldn’t tell if it was spit spilling out of his cousin’s mouth or if the buffalo’s stones were pumping out pre faster than Braeburn could swallow. Looking down, he saw that Braeburn’s stallionhood was jutting out towards the sky, and when the Chief's balls swung back they dragged across it. He could even see Braeburn thrust up to meet them, his cock sending out jets of pre to coat the buffalo balls when they rubbed the tip of his stallionhood
Soon enough, Macintosh had a feeling Thunderhooves was approaching his orgasm as the buffalo began to gasp with each thrust he made. The Chief began to make shorter thrusts that caused his balls to violently shake between his legs. With one final, stage rumbling bellow, the chief’s balls began to rhythmically pump his semen into the cowpony’s mouth. Mac couldn’t begin to imagine the load that such large testicles could produce, and he wasn’t sure if he was glad or jealous to not be in Braeburn’s position. After a moment, Thunderhooves gave out a sigh and pulled away from the pony beneath him, showing the damage that his orgasm had caused.
Braeburn had clearly been unable to swallow all the chief had to offer as it seemed most of it had spilled out and covered him. His face had been hit with the brunt of it, streaks of white covering parts of his mane and dripping down onto his chest. He seemed to not mind it at all, a large grin on his face as he made a show of licking his lips.
After Braeburn removed himself from between the Chief’s legs, Thunderhooves turned and gave a slight bow to an applauding crowd and walked back inside of the inn.
“Let’s hear it for our final competitor this year, Chief Thunderhooves! That’s it for this years festival! We’ll give the judges a moment to deliberate, and then crown our champion for this year's Fertility Festival!.”
As Thunderhooves vanished behind the curtain into the inn and Braeburn got a towel from behind the judge’s table to clean up, Big Macintosh had a good feeling about who would win. Smiling to himself, he found that he was not the least bit disappointed. That had been one hell of a show.
“Your winner for this year's Fertility Festival, Chief Thunderhooves!”
Even though he hadn’t won, Big Macintosh had been pleasantly surprised to find out he had placed second. Standing on the stage with his second place ribbon next to the chief and a zebra, he had a big grin on his face. After congratulating the chief on his win, he promised that he would be back next year to win it all.
Remembering that the festival had only just begun and thinking about how he hadn’t seen Braeburn finish during the contest, he figured he had a good way to pass the time. He didn’t have to be back at home until tomorrow anyways, and in his opinion having fun with a built up Braeburn was one of the best ways to pass the time. Making his way over to Braeburn, an idea suddenly popped into his head.
‘You know, I’ve got a pretty good idea for what to do at next year’s festival…’