Cutie Brand Crusaders 4 [mlp]

>“Scootaloo no! Don’t mess with that!”
*CRASH*
>”Sweetie! Ya tryin ta get us both in trouble?”
*BANG*
>Looking over the room with a sigh, you see the damage.
>Several attempts at water purification, ruined. A stack of books on your own magitech theories, scattered everywhere.
>Containing your anger, you scoop up the two fillies who squirm in your grasp, and begin marching up to your room, Applebloom following close behind.
>Plopping the two on your bed, you order them all to stay put while you do some thinking. Alone.
>It’s been a few days since you brought these two new fillies here.
>While they’re adjusting well thanks to their friend’s support and encouragement, they do a good job of exciting each other.
>This has proven...problematic.
>But you don’t regret it. When they’re not causing trouble, Applebloom is at the happiest you’ve yet seen her.
>And their training is starting to take, especially with Bloom playing your little advocate.
>All said, they’re getting the same treatment she did.
>The fillies are introduced to modern hygiene, making an incredible change.
>Especially Scootaloo, who went from dirty by contemporary standards, to something that could almost pass as a noble within the course of the week.

>Hair cuts and silver hoof cups for both.
>Sweetie’s being modified for her cloven unicorn hooves and having a thin gold plating to contrast her fur.
>They’re introduced to small plugs, the structured Sweetie taking to it better than wild child Scootaloo.
>You’ve taken to using Applebloom while they’re made to watch, lavishing extra pleasure on her to build an association.
>And of course, random, meaningless orders slipped casually into idle conversations help lay the foundation for a strong “obey before you think” mentality.
>A growing concern however, is that maybe Applebloom just isn’t ready to assume the responsibilities of being an alpha mare.
>While it seems she was already more or less their leader as friends, at best she can nudge them a bit in one direction.
>Occasionally get them thinking something she wants was their idea.
>But when it comes down to it, they won’t listen to any outright instructions from her. So she’s really not able to reign the other two in once they’re set on something.
>Groaning again, you slump against the wall to contemplate your options.
-
“Now look whatcha done! You two upset ‘im.”
>”Ugh, who cares? I just wanna play and run around, not do all...this!” Scootaloo claims while waving her arms
“Well ya need ta get use to it.Yer a herd filly now. An owned herd filly.”
>”Pfft, you used to be fun, Applebloom. Now you’re all just “master this” and “master that”.”
“What! Ah’m fun. Ah jus-
>”Scootaloo does sort of have a point, Applebloom. I know he bought us and all, but you do kinda stay under him all the time.”
“Well yeah but...isn’t that kinda what owned mares are supposta do?”

>”I suppose so…”
>”I guess…”
>”I heard owned mares get beat a lot.”
>Now that just isn’t true!
“Well Ah’ve never been beat. Spanked maybe” you cough out. “But never beat.”
>”I’m getting tired of wearing this thing too” Scootaloo says, hinting at her flank.
“Oh THAT thing? Pfft. A few more days, ya won’t even notice it’s there. A week or two and you’ll wonder how ya went without it.”
>”I kind of like it.”
“Sweetie likes it!”
>”You’re both weird.”
>She’s cracking, you can feel it!
“Well look here Scootaloo, ya got food, ya got a big house, ya got the best toys, ya got friends, and ya got in a real nice herd. What more ya want?”
>Time to move in for the kill!
“So what if he bought ya? Just means that if ya listen to ‘im, he’s stuck with ya forever.
>”Eh whatever” she says, trying to play off a tiny smirk she couldn’t stop.
>She tried to hide it. But it happened! And you saw it.
>Before you can say anything though, there door opens up and Master comes in!
>You don’t know whether you should be excited or worried, so you just wait…
-
“Alright girls. I’ve decided what we’re going to do.”
>”What?” The three say in unison, except Applebloom who tacks a “master” to the end.
“I’m going to take you three on a picnic.”
>All three look at you quizzically, before Scootaloo approaches.
>”What’s your game, we break you stuff and you take us on a picnic? What’s your game?”
“I’m glad you asked Scoots.” you say as you sweep the lightweight pony into your arms.

“I just think that maybe all you guys really need is to feel...comfortable, to feel welcome.”
>”There’s a catch here, isn’t there?”
“Very astute, Sweetie. I’m going to be teaching you girls some basic manners. When you do right you’ll get a reward. When you do wrong too many times, you’ll get a hit from the crop.”
>”Pfft, figures.” Scootaloo whines, her legs hanging limp beneath her.
>A while later, you’re at the park and setting up, your seat a simple table that you threw a cloth over.
>Luckily, you found an area where just enough of a break in the trees allowed in some real sunlight. They seemed to like that.
>It’s a simple meal compared to home, but for a species of herbivores in a developing world, it’s a decent spread for a picnic.
>Fresh hay, oats, a few types of fruits and vegetables, a kettle of piping hot tea, and sugarcubes for rewards.
>Since the idea is to enforce dominance and control in an otherwise pleasant environment, you opted not to bring any meat this time.
“Scootaloo, we talked about chewing before we swallowed. Present your flanks”
“Applebloom, I’ve told you about five times now to not talk with your mouth full. Present your flanks.
“Sweetie, how many times now have you shoved your face in your tea like that? Present your flanks.
>The three turn in their seats, moving their sides to where they may be discretely whipped from under the table.
>Three pops and three muffled eeps are heard before they allowed go back to eating.

>The rules you were teaching them weren’t the same ones their own high society.
>Rather, they were closer to middle class human rules, modified for horses, sense and sanitary concerns.
>No 50 forks bullshit or slobbering all over everything.
>Speaking of...
“Sweetie, don’t put your mouth in the bowls other people have to eat out of.” You say as you scoop some grains onto her plate. “That’s one strike.”
>”Uh, Anon, will you pass me a pear?”
“Will I pass you a pear, please. Remember your “pleases and thank yous”. And yes, Scoots.” You say as you hand one to the filly.
“Thank you, Anon..” she says unsurely.
>She’s learning. Taking a sugarcube in hand, you present it to the little pony.
>Knowing the way this works already, the pony eats the treat from the palm of your hand as you pet her neck.
>You should probably look into pegasi specific care.
>While her wings look fine, the downy feathers that creep partially across her back, chest and neck still leave something to be desired.
>Maybe once she molts?
>The meal continues for a while until, in a fit of boredom, you decide to give Applebloom a test.
>As soon as one of the fillies has gotten enough strikes to receive a pop from the crop, you put it into action.
“Ah dang. I dropped my crop. Applebloom, could you get under there and find it for me?”
>She doesn’t even hesitate.
-
>Master just gave you an important job. You’ve gotta find the crop so he can keep teaching everyone.
>Sweetie’s learning, Scoots is learning, even you’re learning.
>Now if only it wasn’t so dark under here.

>As you’re rooting around, you accidentally bump into Master’s legs.
>That’s when you see it. He’s got his parts hanging out like a normal stallion.
>Before you can think about it, Master grabs you by the mane and pulls you gently between his legs.
>Is that what he really wanted? Out here? In the park?
>Taking a nervous gulp, you look around to make sure nobody could see under the blanket.
>Once you’re sure, you calm down and basically inhale it, taking the whole thing in one go.
>This is a way better treat than a little sugar, so you must have been really good.
-
>Ah, now that’s living.
>The oddest part is that you’re not sure which of you enjoys it more.  She’s always been eager about blowjobs.
>”Mr. Anon, is something wrong? You keep making little grunts.”
“It’s nothing girls.”
>They clearly don’t believe you, and it doesn’t take them long to connect it to the absentee crusader, causing the two to both check under the blanket.
>The red faced fillies sit in silence for a few moments before you instruct otherwise.
“Alright girls, get back to your meals. Be thankful, and don’t waste food.”
>You continue teaching the girls, you blow your load, and everyone finishes eating.
>Finally, the meal is over and you pack everything up before excusing the girls to play.

>As they play however, you’re approached by a stranger. A pegasus stallion with a dusty tan coat and a white mane.
>”Hello there, you’re Anonymous I assume?”
>An out of towner it seems, he lacks that certain Cajun-esque accent of the area.
“That would be me. What can I help you with, mr…?”
>”Lightning Chase. I was in town on business, and well, when I saw you with those beautiful little angels in tow, I just got a hankering to expand my harem.”
“Excuse me?”
>”Well, I asked around a bit, and it word seems to be that you own them, and that at least one is very well trained. I want to buy one of them.”
“I’m afraid they’re not for sale, sir.” You curtly reply.
>”Now now now. At least hear my offer, I’ll-”
“Excuse me for a moment.”
“GIRLS! LINE UP!”
>The three of them quickly make their way to your side, some a little more quickly than others.
“Girls, this is Mr. Lightning Chase. Say hi.”
>”Hi Mr. Lightning Chase.”
“Now, it seems that he finds you three really pretty, and wants to buy one of you from me for his own harem. How do you girls feel about that?”
>”Please don’t sell us, Master!” blurts Applebloom, clutching to your leg.
>”But, I was just getting comfortable…” Sweetie claims fearfully, backing up a couple of steps.
>”You can’t be serious!” Scootaloo says with a mix of worry and exasperation.
“It seems they’ve made their feelings known. My girls are not for sale.”
>He coughs as he tries to regain his composure.

>”I would be willing to pay 9 gold bits for your least favorite of the three.”
“Pfft.”
>”11?”
“I payed more more than that for the least expensive one.”
>”Yes, but such a...savvy business colt must know that a deflowered mare is less valuable.”
“You make too many assumptions.”
>”Fine, humor me. How much would it take?”
>Mocking up a thinking face, you watch the nervous crusaders from the corner of your eyes
“Well, let’s see. Between my initial buying price, a recoup for my expenses of care, emotional compensation for my poor heart loosing it’s favorite fillies in the whole world.
“The price of their belongings, the bonus of the ones who are virginally intact, their good looks, current background, and skills and education they’ve received with me….”
“Oh, and they’re basically connected at the haunch, so you have to buy all three. I’d say….about 350 gold for the lot of them.”
>Everyone around seems to almost choke on the air.
>”Th..that’s absurd! It would take me decades to get that kind of money!”
“It’s also a moot point. They are NOT for sale. Now I would appreciate it if you left before I get the guard involved.”
>The stallion finally gets the point and storms off in a huff.
>When he’s finally out of sight, you turn to the fillies.
“Sorry about this girls, but I think it’s time we went home.”
>”Mister Anon?” Starts an uneasy Scootaloo. “Do you really think we’re worth that much?”
>With a smile, you scoop all three of the tykes into a hug.
“You’re worth way more to me. Don’t any of you ever doubt it.
>The three of them nuzzle in response to that.
“Now Sweetie, Scoots, I know you aren’t fans, but I’m going to leash you on the way home just to be safe.”
>”O..okay sir.” they say with almost appreciative nods.
>On the way back you give them a few minutes to get candy from a market stall as a reward, while you talk to a guard about sending an extra patrol or two near your property for the next few nights.