FS:SotU's Story - Untitled

ORIGINALLY POSTED BY: FS:SotU

 

>Day laborer in Equestria

>You are Tyrone, strongest nigga in West Fillydelphia

>At least you were

>Until you got in one little fight, and your master got scared

>And sold you to a slave trader from Bel Air

>You were crammed into a wagon filled with your fellow niggas

>First stop of the Worldwide Wagon Ride was Ponyville

>A few ponies showed up to the auction

>First one up for sale is yo nigga Tyrone

>You liked Tyrone

>Always had the freshest new Jordans

>And damn could he cook a watermelon!

>Bidding begins

>Tyrone is bought by a white pony with a purple mane

>”Fuggin’ crackas, always bringin a nigga down”

>As Tyrone walks to his new master, you and your fellow niggas start singing a solemn tune

>One of the traditional songs your people hold so dear

>”LAMBORGHINI MERCY, YO CHICK SHE SO THIRSTY, I’M IN THAT TWO SEAT LAMBO WIT YO GIRL SHE TRYNA JERK ME!”

>You are quickly silenced by the crack of a whip

>You are brought up next

>Auctioneer tells the audience about your positive attributes

>Tells of your incredible strength and unmatched talent for armed robbery

>”Ah’m not sure, he don’t look so strong ta me,” says an orange pony in the crowd

>”Lawd know I can whoop yo’ cracka ass, ho” you say under your breath

>Auctioneer tells her he’s seen you lift two buckets of fried chicken at the same time

>Reassured, the orange pony bids on you

>She wins, since she’s the only one there now

>You hear your fellow niggas singing you a going-away hymn

>”WHISTLIN’ DIXIE, MIDDLE SCHOOL I WAS GETTIN’ HEAD ON A TEN-SPEED, GIGOLO BLOOD LINE, PIMPIN’ HEREDITARY-”

>They are silenced again by the whip

>You approach your new master

>”Ay yo cracka wuzzup wuzzup. Aight, so wut y’all hoes wantin’ me doin’?”

>”What’s yer name, pardner? Ah’m Applejack, and-”

>”Ey, gurl, I ain’tcha nigga, ya feel? I’s jus tryin ta figger out what y’all have me be doin, dig?”

>”Well, ah’m jus’ tryin’ t’ be polite. There’s no need-”

>”AIN’T NOBODY HOLLA’IN AT’CHU!”

>”Uh… Well okay then! Yer jus’ gonna be kickin’ them there trees over at mah farm t’ harvest them apples.”

>”Aight, gurl.”

>As she leads you to her farm, you can’t help but take notice of her features

>You stay behind her, quietly taking in her fine posterior and silently admiring her toned flank

>By which I mean you yell out “God DAYUM, y’all gots a fiiine ass fo’ a cracka! Sheeeit, I gon’ be ridin’ dat fine thang all nite, baby gurl!”

>Shocked, she turns around with an angry expression on her face

>”Le’s get one thing straight now, ya hear? Ah am the master and yer’ a filthy, worthless slave! Ah am in charge and y’all better learn to show me some respect!”

>”Aw, don’ be like dat baby gurl, y’all arready kno’ I respect dem sweet legs! I wanna eat’chu like you’s da daily special ova at da Waffle House!”

>Applejack sighed

>”We’re here. Now I want’cha to get to work buckin’ dem apples. We’ll sort out that there attitude problem a’ yers later. Now get workin’!”

>You walk over to the nearest tree, muttering under your breath about how this the shit you don’t like

>You look at the tree, wondering how to move the apples from the tree to the buckets

>It’s like one of those math problems you didn’t do back in your schooling days

>You still carry your third-grade graduation sticker as one of your prized possessions

>Suddenly, you get an idea

>You start thinking of the fantastic booty you were witness to earlier

>You picture the toned, orange legs with the three red apples cutie mark

>You then picture said booty moving up and down over your giant black dick

>You immediately harden to your full 3 feet at the thought

>”Aw hell ye, nigga!”

>You walk up to the tree, ready to test out your theory

>You hit the tree with your long, rock-hard erection

>It stings a bit, but it causes the apples to drop into the buckets

>”Still betta den ratchet pussy,” you rationalize

>You go through your day, hitting trees with your member

>You pass the time by singing the songs of your people

>You particularly enjoy the tales of old, sung by your ancestors in the days of the East Side-West Side Wars

>”FIRST OFF, FUCK YO BITCH AND DA CLIQUE YOU CLAIM, WEST SIDE WHEN WE RIDE COME EQUIPPED WITH GAME, YOU CLAIM TO BE A PLAYA BUT I FUCKED YO WIFE, WE BUST ON BAD BOYS, NIGGAS FUCK FO LIFE!”

>Eventually, darkness falls over Ponyville

>Some red cracka comes out to chain you up in the barn

>Puts a chain on both of your rear legs

>Can’t stop yourself from yelling “TWO CHAIIIIINZ!”

>You drift off into sleep

>You dream of you, all alone with that orange pony

>You dream of her cries of ecstasy as you see how far you can stick a fried chicken leg up her moist cunt

>You dream of the taste of fried chicken being enhanced by her mare juices

>You dream of her trying to no avail to get a decent amount of your cock in her mouth

>You dream of her tongue working masterfully, driving you towards orgasm

>”Dayum, white gurl kno’s how ta suck a nigga’s dick!”

>You dream of the red pony entering you from behind, pushing you over the edge

>You wake with a start

>”Shit, nigga, da fugg you be thankin’ bout dat foe? Das sum real gay shit, Tyrone.”

>You reach over and turn on the lantern next to the pile of hay you slept on

>The light reveals the barn is covered in your cum

>”Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeit”

 

TO BE CONTINUED.