Apple Bucking Season, one of the most trying times of the year for the Apple family. Days and days of hard labour to ensure that they had enough of a bumper crop to continue to sell their wares to the patrons of Ponyville. In light of recent developments, it had fallen to Applejack alone to take on the task. Still growing bigger and bigger by the day, Applejack had reached the looming heights of around 12 feet tall, leaving her to make quite the impression on the surrounding public. Those that had spent enough time around her to see her grow through the years were less surprised by the transformation she was slowly undergoing. For those that were a little more safety conscious, or were suffering from some kind of height inadequacy, it was becoming quite the problem. Even back when she had been a healthy 6’10, folks had been whispering about her being too big for her, even then quite sizeable, boots. Applejack had been mostly keeping to herself and her friends since that day, occupying herself with her little flame, Butter Nut, when home. They had been going through the ups and downs together, working through each problem bit by bit and offering support to one another.

Since their last little adventure, the pair had gotten themselves a somewhat makeshift home on the orchard itself. It was nothing one could reasonably call homely but it suited Applejack’s needs for the current time being. Besides, the Apple family had only been too happy to raise another barn-like structure for the pair to live; they even crafted a whole new song out of it just for the occasion. Both Butter and Applejack had spruced it up with a few extra bits and pieces here and there to make living there easier on the both of them. Butter had ordered in a specifically sized sofa from Sofas and Quills, so that Applejack didn’t have to sit on the floor. Likewise, Applejack had turned half of the lower living quarters into a makeshift bedroom. An over-the-top mattress had been stuffed with hay and straw, which while not totally comfortable, provide the two with the sleep they needed. Though, Butter was guilty of not using the mattress to sleep on and instead using his oversized girlfriend in the process. Many times had Applejack woken up on a cold night to find her lover nowhere to be found on the mattress below, instead cozied up right underneath her gratuitous bosom for warmth. She hadn’t the heart to call him out on it yet, and couldn’t argue that even in his sleep, he appeared to be gentlemanly and careful with her boundaries.

Of course, when the time came for Applejack to set out and harvest the apples all on her lonesome, Butter seemed surprisingly scarce. He had offered to assist her over a week ago with her chores, and only the events of the lake a few days prior had held that promise off. Yet his injuries had passed and still he had not shown up in the orchard. On this particular morning, she had made a point of trying to stay awake as long as she possibly could the night before, so that she could make sure he would be around to help in the morning. Her body had other ideas though and just as she was certain that Butter was asleep, she too passed out. Later that morning she awoke, already late for the beginning of the apple bucking and once again with Butter nowhere to be seen. Had she not been so late, she might have considered spending a little time to try and locate the rascally devil; alas this was not the case. She hopped into her now rather small overalls and raced out into the orchard. She had hoped that by some sort of miracle Butter had gotten up early to surprise her by being at the orchard before her. The closer she got to her predetermined starting point though, the less likely it became, until eventually she realised she was once again on her own.

Feeling that there was no time like the present, Applejack settled down to work. Her pockets were all she needed to get the job done, at least on a row by row basis. It was the picking them up off the trees that was the part she didn’t really like. Back in the days when she was a fair bit smaller than her current size, somewhere around the six foot region, she used to bring the apples down with ease. A simple kick of her steel toed boots and they would come raining down from on high. Her recent growth spurts left her unable to do things the same way; Now she had to pick them off one by one, bending down to really dig into the tree. She oftentimes considered kicking the trees and then working herself extra hard in a short span of time to increase the back pain. Use it as an excuse to not do the work and innocently proclaim that Butter should be around somewhere. It passed the time to daydream about sitting back and watching Butter break a sweat for once, instead of wandering around or doing whatever it was he did. The first row of apples sat neatly in her pockets, the crop proving to be a little less than the usual average, but nothing to be worried about. Striding over to the next row of trees, she carefully deposited the apples into a tub left out for her before she began to work again. This time the trees were a little more fully grown, some of which stood taller than she was, whilst the others were roughly around head height. If there was one thing she didn’t like about this job, more than anything at all, it was these trees.

Having to fight her way through branches and leaves was just no fun at all. She couldn’t count the amount of times she had ended up with cuts and grazes from the sharp parts of the branches. The old saying of what didn’t kill her only made her stronger came to mind and in a way it was somewhat true. Each time she managed to get herself some kind of minuscule injury, she found that next time it hurt less. By now, she was a regular machine when it came to avoiding damage from her efforts. Still didn’t make it any less annoying for her though. The leaves gathered in her hat, meaning that when she lifted her head back to get a better look at the tree itself, she was showered with them. The leaves got stuck in places that they really shouldn’t, most notably down the front of her overalls. The feel of those waxy things rubbing up against her flesh was more uncomfortable than the straw bed. She couldn’t very well take her clothes off in the middle of the orchard to get rid of them. No matter how tempting the option seemed to be, she had to remain professional and focus on the job at hand. The universe would likely place Granny Smith or Big Mac, or even, she hated to even contemplate it, but even Apple Bloom could be around. The CMC clubhouse was only a short walk away, at least as far as Applejack was concerned. The last thing she wanted was to traumatise her little sister and her other relatives.

Moving down the trees, Applejack’s mind began to wander to other things, trying in vain to take her mind off the job and the unpleasantness at hand. She contemplated her future, especially where Butter was concerned. Right now, everything was peachy. The pair were hopelessly smitten with one another, their time as childhood friends cementing their relationship into something great. The problem as far as Applejack was concerned was that of herself, or rather her condition. Since they had reunited and taken their friendship to the next level, she had nearly doubled in height and if current trends were anything to go by, she would reach double in a couple of days. While it appeared to be fairly quiet and steady for the most part, it meant that each day she and Butter grew further and further apart. Her lover didn’t seem to mind, but she had no doubt that there was a niggle in the back of his mind that pertained to just how this relationship would work in the future. What if she never stopped? She’d have to leave town and live in some sort of valley, completely isolated from the outside world. Despite her concerns, and she had quite a few, she had never really sat down to ask Butter what he felt on the whole situation. Then again, it wasn’t like Applejack to openly admit something was troubling her, at least not off her own back. She may have embodied the Element of Honesty, but she was good at skipping over things when they weren’t directly asked of her. She continued with her work, finishing up the second row and moving onto the third. Given the hundreds of rows that the orchard contained, Applejack was certain that this was going to be an all-day kind of job, even at her size. If only Butter would show himself…

Whilst Applejack was working away at the crop of apples in the orchard, Butter was rather content at the fact that he had managed to make it through another apple bucking day without lifting a finger. Not that he wanted to avoid working, oh no. His skill set was simply meant for cooking, and as such he had been looking for a solid job down in town for the past few weeks. Unfortunately many of the locales and opportunities were already gone to townsfolk and family. In communities such as Ponyville there was little need to outsource help; being in Manehatten for two years had placed Butter decidedly out of the running. He had promised to help Applejack, assuming rightly that he would have more free time than most with paying jobs might. But then had come the eventful bathing at the hidden lake, and afterwards he had found the idea of working long hours outdoors beyond himself, seeing Applejack come in every night exhausted and sweaty.

He had good reason to do so this time though. Applejack had been working so hard lately, despite her size making certain things tougher. So Butter had instead decided that when she came home, tired and more than a little cranky at his not being there, he was going to treat her like a Queen. From the moment she came in and sat herself down, he would be all over her, waiting hand and foot. She might start ranting at him at first, about how he always disappeared when the hard work started, but once he acted, she’d soon calm down. At least, that’s what he hoped. This wasn’t exactly the first time that he had decided to take the day off and leave her to the work, so admittedly, he didn’t really have a good handle on what she might be feeling when she got home. The slight unpredictability had become something of a trend as of late, as though she had something on her mind. Butter had been planning to ask just what was bugging her, if anything, but true to his somewhat red-blooded nature, he kept finding himself at a loss for words whenever he gazed upon her.

Tonight would be different though; tonight he was all hers. If she wanted to talk then they were going to talk, if she wanted to let him massage her into sensual oblivion then that was what he was going to do. For now though, he was going to sit and rest on the couch, which was a little bit of a challenge in its own right. The couch itself was taller than he was, with the seat alone almost taller than him. Out of loving kindness, Applejack had requested a small footstool to go with the sofa. That way, Butter could climb up onto the sofa and snuggle with Applejack, or simply utilise the couch whenever he needed it. He’d never tell Applejack but sometimes he preferred sleeping on the couch with her, rather than the bed. Granted, he was usually using Applejack as the bed, but for some reason the couch was still better. The possible reasons why he felt that way were numerous, ranging from little things like the fact that it wasn’t filled with straw. Or the fact that Applejack almost didn’t fit on the couch when she sprawled out, leaving her slightly curved upwards. For Applejack it likely meant there would be a spinal problem or two in her future, but for Butter it meant that her bosom rested on him. Almost like a blanket of flesh to cover his upper body. For now, Butter decided that it couldn’t do him any harm to take a little cat nap on the couch; at least he’d be refreshed for Applejack returning. He spread himself across the middle of the three cushions and waited for sleep to take him, a smile on his face as he thought about the night to come…

A couple of hours later in the orchard, Applejack had earned herself a break. The majority of the work was done, well, half of it. The North and East fields had been totally cleared and Big Mac was already working to store the buckets of apples into the barn. Applejack had worked up a rather intense sweat from the constant bending, whacking branches, lifting and dropping. Her family had brought her out plenty of water so she could hydrate herself for the last half of the walk. The first few bottles of water had been splashed against her forehead, as opposed to going into her mouth. Most of the water had splashed right off her face and soaked through the front of her overalls, leaving a comical heart shaped water print. Applejack wasn’t bothered about it, after all she was already soaked from sweat, so a little more moisture on her body was nothing. Besides it helped to move some of those leaves to a little more comfortable position, down by her hips or resting against her stomach. Still unaware about the surprise that Butter had planned for her, she set about working on the final half of the orchard. She downed the remaining vessels of water and stomped off over to the South field, where the trees were still a little in the youthful stages of growth. It was after all a fairly new growth settlement for the family.

As she began to work on picking the ripened apples, sorting them out from the ones that could stand to be left a few more days, she recounted an old memory. Once upon a time, she had tried to take on the entire orchard during a previous apple bucking season, despite her brother’s protests. She had made a good effort, trying to get all the apples finished before the sleep deprivation got to her. In the end, it had been somewhat of a learning experience for her, mostly about compromise and it being ok to have help with things. She recalled it to memory because of how strange it was to be doing the same thing again, except this time without any of the negatives of the last time. She had finished nearly three quarters of the orchard without so much as a hint of tiredness. Sure there were other problems that had flared up due to her size and how it conflicted with the environment, but she at least ‘felt’ better than the last time. Her brother wasn’t really complaining either; he was more much more pleased to be working with the task of putting the apples into the barn, as opposed to helping out with the bucking. There was less chance of him getting a leg injury, which given previous seasons, was only too common. Even Apple Bloom would likely be pleased at the fact her sister was taking over the main part of the season, as she could spend more time with her friends, doing what they do best.

Lost in her thoughts, Applejack stormed through the South field in record time, piling them up and leaving them for Big Mac. That only left one field, the West field, the biggest field that the family had in their possession. Wiping her brow, flicking the moisture off onto the orchard ground and some of the trees, she set course for her final challenge for the day. The field itself was just outside their home, and if Applejack had any thoughts about where Butter might be hiding from her, or the work, it was likely to be this one. It seemed to go on for ages and ages, disappearing into the horizon. Sort of; the apples trees kind of blocked out the horizon so it was hard to tell just whether or not the field itself met with it. Still, this was the field that was home to the oldest and the most bountiful of all the trees in the orchard. The sheer amount of trees and their over productivity could save the Apple family’s business for an entire harsh winter, just on their own. Granny Smith often liked to tell stories of how such things had happened in the past, or go off on tangents about how the trees had been there since before she was young. Though nobody could really confirm or deny her stories, so they resorted to humouring her for the most part.

Applejack liked to believe it was true though, as did the rest of the family. So, as she began to work on these particular trees, she took the most care and effort she could. Rather than taking on the rough approach to the branches and leaves that had plagued her at other trees, she simply brushed them aside. Only the rustling of the leaves and the gentle groan of branches could be heard, a complete contrast to her earlier work. There was no snapping, no disgruntled groans, and no leaf showers, just plenty of care. Her hands cupped each apple and gently twisted and teased it away from the branch, no sudden movements, like disarming some sort of trap. Even back when she was a little smaller, Applejack had been the one to do this kind of thing. Apple Bloom was too small and youthful to really take the careful approach, instead always wanted to try some crazy scheme. Her brother was the kind that didn’t really know his own strength, or at least, was good at ignoring it. Even if you told him to be gentle or careful, he’d still break something, just because he was that strong. Applejack was the only one left, other than Granny, who had the necessary touch for the job, and when given the choice between a pensioner and a young, spritely, individual, well, it was a no brainer. This was where the most time was going to be taken and Applejack knew, that darkness would be setting in eventually, but she continued on, undeterred.

Several hours later, Butter awoke from his nap, noting how it had turned from a simple nap to something more akin to regular sleep. Applejack wasn’t back yet and the sky outside had gotten dark; the barn lacked a clock so he wasn’t sure of the exact time, but he was sure it was late. On the plus side, he was feeling more relaxed and raring to go, which was good for Applejack, as she was going to be on the receiving end of his treatment. He rubbed his palms together as he waited there for her to return home, ready to leap into action and make the entire day so much better. Just as he got done thinking about her, the door to the barn slid open. A large, shadowy figure stood at the door, stepping into the barn and closing the door behind them. The sheer size of the shadowed figure alone was enough to let Butter know that it was Applejack. He could see the top of her head and the hat she wore poking over the back of the sofa. If ever he was still in doubt though, the sudden groans from her confirmed it. Even when it was a low, guttural grunt, it still had that thick country accent to it.

Applejack crossed to the end of the couch, standing at the end with her back to Butter. She didn’t say anything and Butter wasn’t entirely sure about her body language either. She seemed to be moving her arms and legs in some way, and he heard the shuffling of clothes, but other than that, he was still in the dark. He heard a soft ‘flump’, and the clattering of what could be the buttons on her overalls, followed by a long yawn. Just as he opened his mouth though, ready to spring up off the couch and announce his plan, Applejack flopped over the arm of the sofa. Butter ‘eeped!’ as Applejack’s back came crashing down on top of him, crushing him into the cushions. The smaller creature felt the extent of her hard work almost instantly; Applejack’s bare and sweat covered back was covering the majority of his body. At first he felt icky and gross, being lathered up in her body moisture as she slid her way up the sofa to get herself into a more comfortable spot. But once her butt reached him, suddenly the feelings started to melt away. Applejack didn’t even seem to notice that Butter was stuck underneath her as she wriggled herself into her most comfortable position. In truth she was smothering Butter against her panties, which given the vast size of her butt, he was either going to get pushed between the cushions or stuck between the cheeks of her ass. Butter wasn’t complaining about the latter position; in fact, he wasn’t complaining about much these days when faced with her size, and the difference to his.

Due to the sudden drop of her body against him, whilst he had been somewhat open mouthed, it meant that he was now, whether he liked it or not, chewing the fat of her butt. Albeit there was a mass of white cotton between his mouth and her actual skin, but he didn’t care. He could still breathe through his nose and in a way this was kind of like his original plan. Whilst, he might have planned to give her a neck/back/foot massage whilst she rested, this was some kind of massage, with his mouth acting in place of his hands. Sure, the bitter taste of sweat was a little off-putting, but if it meant that he was helping Applejack take a load off after a hard day, he was all for it. In a way, it was all so very...pleasing to him. He was restricted, sure, unable to move most of his body, and yet, it wasn’t unpleasant. The heat from Applejack’s body kept him warm, like he was snuggling with his own personal radiator. The soft sounds of her breathing washing over him like the calmest waves of the ocean. The constant rising and falling of her body as she slowly drifted off to a well-deserved sleep. It was serene; like her entire frame was just oozing the stress of the day away, Butter massaging the rest away.

As the first signs of Applejack completely drifting off to sleep began to come into play, Butter began to try and turn his arms around so the palms of his hands were facing upwards. While he was content to simply lay there with mouth full of Applejack’s clothed ass, he could feel his hands clawing up, desperately trying to lay a hand on it. Applejack grunted in her sleep, lifting her butt up briefly, giving Butter the perfect opportunity to turn his fingers right side up. As she smothered him again, his hands clawed at her butt, digging into the cotton covering. His left hand struck gold, coming up against one of the weakest parts of her panties, where a hole had already developed. His fingers pressed into the gap and quivered as they brushed up against bare skin. That delightfully plump, orange, freckled apple rump got a serious prodding from his little fingers. In his mind, Butter could imagine just what it looked like; all shiny from the moisture, each cheek of her butt, bigger than his own head. So plump and tender, mouldable and sculpted by his fingers, like putty in his grasp. That was a thought that was going to be sticking with Butter for a long time; at the very least the rest of the night. So deep was he in his fantasies, he failed to hear Applejack’s sleep ramblings.

“Mmm, ah know ya have been hidin’ from th’ work. This is mah way of…” She wiggled her butt in her sleep, which got a muffled reply of stallion delight from her smothered love. “...of gettin’ ya back fer all that work ah had t’ do mahself.”