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Ministry of Image - Fanfiction Printing

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Description

Including a half assed story to help me in particular get my rocks off, as it were.
Part 8
Applejack awoke from her nap. all she remembered beforehand was something very pleasurable, perhaps a dream she was having. Looking around her, she found an assortment of clothes that certainly didn’t belong to her. the garments below her were moist, as was the bench. Confused at first, she pondered why the bench in particular could be as such, before a not entirely accurate realization struck her: She had a wet dream.
Now a little flustered, she decided to clean up the mess someone had surely made around her while she slept, not that her “episode” helped matters. She picked up the unwieldy rags, obviously those of some non-pony. Perhaps a small dragon, or a cat person? She then promptly tossed them in a convenient trash can Looking around her orchard, things seemed… off. It felt too small, too mundane. The surrounding landscape, too, seemed alien to her.
She simply shrugged, thinking to herself that the feeling would pass. What was odd, however, was the absence of her family members. The house behind her was quiet, and she saw none of them in the orchard itself. Oh well, wherever they were, they could wait for now. A potential client was walking down the entrance to the property. They looked to be some kind of lanky, hairless primate. So hairless, in fact, they seem to have covered themself with an amount of clothing that’s more than superfluous as casual wear for a pony. Far from the strangest creature Applejack has seen, but not quite normal either. Nevertheless she stepped forward, hoping to treat the visitor to one of her various apple varieties she grew, perhaps the Granny Smith or the McIntosh!
“Howdy there, sugarcube, I’m Applejack! And what might your name be, fine sir, madam, or otherwise?”
“Pardon my french, but what the fuck are you, a talking horse?”
to be continued never, thanks for reading but I wrote this story to kill time and now I’ve just about genocided it, so I probably won’t continue, at least not in this format.

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