The Misadventures of Derpy Hooves (And Friends!) Season 2 Episode 7: A Day in the Life of Fluttershy! Based on the art of WapaMario63: https://ponybooru.org/profiles/WapaMario63 Fluttershy: > The Best Pony Pact is a secret order passed one month ago today. > An agreement penned by the mayor in a dark room of city hall signed by myself, the mayor of Pineville, the notorious spa sisters, a gang of nationalist earth pony supremacists. > In signing this pact, we all agreed to operate under secrecy and fulfill our obligations to the deal. > Though I read my portion of the contract multiple times before signing, my memory has grown foggy. > The synopsis of my obligations written in the contract is to manage shipments of “Best Pony product” from the supplier while ensuring that each signing party is supplied with the agreed upon quantity (four barrels fifty gallons per party) daily and without delay. > The milk required to fulfill this quota is hundred gallons per day. > The milk is then sold through various channels at exorbitantly high rates by the nationalists and spa Ponies. > Coupled with my duties is milk tax collection. > I receive a portion of the milk profits which is then divided between myself and the mayor. > The entire system is dependent on sales. Which fluctuate daily. > But for the sake of simplicity, I generally earn six thousand dollars a day. > Along with the shipment and tax collection, I am obligated in seeing to any matters relating to any consigner of the pact. > This entails me to work regular shifts at the Old Ponyville milk bar and assist in any odd jobs which threaten or hinder operations. > This particular caveat in our agreement has strapped me with a litany of degenerate burdens which challenge me both physically and emotionally. > My compensation is a mere pittance compared to my associates, who I cannot fight or escape. > I carry these burdens not for money or thrill. > I satisfy the orders of brutes and snakes for the safety of my marefriend, who under my only request was for all parties to agree in keeping blind of the intricacies of the Best Pony Pony Pact. > I stuttered my way through the signing process. > It's not typical of a mare with reclusive qualities such as mine to find herself in these snake pits. > Conspiracy, criminal enterprise and drug trafficking are not my forte. > Though I am not completely without sin. I never imagined my shameful perversions regarding lactation. And my lifelong disposition towards the opposite sex would land me such dangerous lifestyle. > Beyond my surface level fantasies I also admire the act of being dominated upon, engaging in sexual relations with lower mammalians and being found in compromised situations is frustratingly exciting. > I don’t know why I’m like this. > The pills I have been taking since I developed the capacity for shame have spontaneously stopped working and I struggling to function without them. > Those who suffer with mental health may take refuge in their physical health. > Regardless of how physically healthy they may be it serves as a coping with their incurable, invisible illnesses of the mind. > A karmic way of thinking which hinges on the belief that there exists a deal > I don't find no refuge in this line of thinking, because unlike those fortunate with fading facilities I am not physically healthy. > My freakish stance is the result of a rare deteriorating bone condition found in a small subset of earthbound pegasi. > A condition I’ve endured since the age of twelve after I fell to earth during the sonic rainboom. > The same rainboom had also pushed my pupils into rapid overextension, inducing a permanent case of “Pupil Pop Syndrome.” > In most circumstances I can see fine, though bright often lights sting. > I treat my eyes daily by administering eye drops and keeping myself to low lit environments whenever possible. > My ossian condition is the catalyst behind my abnormally long, thinning limbs. >The disproportionate collagen to fat/flesh ratio causes me to suffer frequent buckling joints. > The symptom is worsened by my chubby frame and heavy set teats. > As of now, there is no known cure for the condition, but a strict diet and medication is believed to soothe the symptoms and negate further growth. 7:00 AM: Breakfast > Muffins sat upright, leaning against our beds' headboard. > The weight of her chest teats pinned her to the wall. > The cheap composite wood of the headboard bends along her back. > I laid to her right. > Mirroring her posture, only stiffer and in a near catatonic fashion. > It had been another sleepless night. > I have gone many days without sleep. > I don’t even know what day it is… > But it hardly matters. > The weeks have all blended together into an exhausting stream of sleepless half-consciousness. > Muffins and I stared forward, looking at nothing in particular for a long and silent moment. > My tired eyes twisted the room into itself. > Like one of those colorless optical illusions a stage magician would use to hypnotize you. > That black and white spiral pattern which seems to go on forever when you staring down its center. > The world reflected back to me has devolved into an unusually wide perspective. > The room slightly spinning and bulging along random points in my vision irregularly. > The only tangible example that I can think of which describes this strange perspective is something photographers call “the fisheye lens” > A novel piece of photographic equipment often used in artistic works to distort perceptions of scale and distance . > The illusion animating in my eyes and across the walls of the cottage gives me a tranquil, weightless sensation. > But it also causes my tummy to tumble…. > After several days without a wink of rest. > The world became weird…. > Inanimate objects had learned to breath. > The world had pulsated with waves of energy . > These changes in perception also upset my stomach. > I wiped my eyes and scanned the cottage. > The mess was festive > Decorated in jack-o-lanterns, plastic bats and stringy cotton spider webs. > To my left, Muffins smiled proudly at the Nightmare Night decorations. > Muffins has never done a single day's work of chores. > But she always finds in herself; enough energy to litter the house with nonsense we both know she won’t ever clean. > I’ve never been fond of Nightmare Night. > But Muffins adores the holiday. Even though she’s well exceeded the appropriate age for trick or treating. > Nightmare Night traditions are childish, and the two of us could not be more different in how we celebrate the holiday. > Muffins indulged shamelessly in costumed candy collecting while I lock myself away in fear of fillies fitted in frightening fashions knocking at my door demanding treats and threatening me with tricks. > Nightmare Night proves that both Muffins and I are equally pathetic in our own unique ways. > “Pickles.” Muffins said out of nowhere “S…Sorry?” > “Do we have any pickles?” She asked “Oh…I don't know.” I replied, eyes hitting the blankets draped along my lap. > “I have a sudden urge for pickles.” She explained “Muffins, It’s seven in the morning.” I said, eyes shifting from my lap to Muffins, who was staring up at me somehow adorning both vacant and smiling eyes. > “I know…I’ve had an urge for pickles since I woke up.” She confessed, rubbing her front hooves together like she does when she gets nervous. > I didn't acknowledge her on any emotional level. > I’m far too exhausted > I just nodded my head in agreement “I see.” > My gaze fell back over the blankets > I felt myself slowly slipping away and into a passive zoned out state. > I like this place, and visit often. > It has a fuzzy texture and a warm feeling. > It's like when your leg falls asleep, except it's your brain. > It forces you to pause. > Often I focus on one singular spot and stare without blinking. > Sometimes the sensation last for minutes. > I enjoy the dissociation because it's the only time my mind ever is truly silent is. > In this state my eyes will flutter. > I will become heavy and sleepy > Sometimes I will drool > But I could live here forever. > “Fluttershy?” Muffins asked “Yes, Muffins?” I jumped > Her voice ripped me from my tranquil “zoned out” state and plopped back into reality. > The sudden change in consciousness gave me whiplash. > “What are pickles made of?” “I….Uhhh…Wh…What are you asking?” I asked, scratching a nonexistent itch along the back of my neck with eyes cocked upwards to the ceiling and in the opposite direction of Muffins, staring intently at nothing in particular. > “Pickles. What are they made of?” She repeated “I…I think they're just cucumbers soaked in brine.” > Muffins touched her hoof to her chin > She looked stunned > As if she had just learned an ancient knowledge or a juicy piece of gossip. > Her right ear paddled along her mane as she stared off for a long moment. > “Neat!” She squeaked > I don’t think the Ponies who wrote the dictionary have a single word capable of relating how I feel right now. > Surreal comes to mind. > So does filthy > Deflated…..Disgusted…..Derpy… > “Fluttershy?” “Yes, dear?” I replied, placing my hoof around Muffins neck, pulling her into my barrel tightly > “Are we poor?” “Umm…Kind of? Why do you ask?” > “I read in yesterday's newspaper that in today's economy, most households require more than one income to be economically stable.” “What are you getting at?” > “I could try restarting Derpy Deliveries….If you let me that is.” > She asked in a soft subservient tone > Averting her eye, and rolling her hooves around themselves nervously. > She knows me “I think that would be a terrible idea.” > “B…But we need money…And you're never home….And I’m bored.” She huffed “We're doing fine Muffins. I don't want you to worry about any of that. I have our financial situation covered.” > “But…If I had my own job then maybe we wouldn't be poor….And then I could go to the store… And buy my own pickles.” “I think…” I replied, slowly drifting off again >.... > “Yes?” >.... > Muffins shoved me in the side just below my wings with both front hooves. > The trance was broken > My senses jumped back to life > My eyes locked onto hers > She wore an uneasy expression and pulled her limbs into herself to look smaller. > Her ears flattened along her head and nose scrunched intensely, causing creases to her snout. > This pose is one of the many defense mechanisms of a submissive Pegasi. > This particular pose essentially translates to > “I am harmless.” > “Fluttershy? Are you feeling okay?” “Yes….I was just thinking…” > “Thinking about what?” > I paused “I think it's time for me to get out of bed.” I sighed > I tossed the blankets from my lap and began towards the washroom a couple meters right of my bedside. > “Work today?” “I work everyday.” I groaned > I entered the washroom and closed the door behind me. > I inhaled deeply, allowing the cottage's sour air to run through me. > The odor of rotting food, spoiled milk, hot garbage, sheets stained with urine, blankets stained cum, and the sweat of our poor unwashed bodies saturated the cottage. > We inhaled this air with every breath > It lingered like humidity, and plagued in the air > The smells had even infected the cottage physically > The smells, coupled with a season of moist Ponyville summer humidity incited various molds and dome capped fungus to flower freely from the predominantly wooden structure. > A fuzzy patch of yellow mold encompassing the entirety of the top right corner of the washroom leaked an oil coloured liquid onto the floor. > To my left was the bathtub. > The shower curtain was ripped away long ago for some unknown reason. > From the floor of the tub to the fungus infested ceiling, stood a tower of miscellaneous clutter. > The clutter was comprised of all the items Muffins had salvaged from her home after the fire. > It lie charred, stuffed and untouched in the cottages only shower since she moved in near half a year ago. > I felt that dissociative feeling begin to roll over me again… > I haven’t showered in months… > A warm shower would be heavenly right now… > I shook my head and broke from the trance. > I then picked up my toothbrush and began brushing my teeth. > As I brushed I opened the medicine cabinet behind the vanity. > The hinges squealed and roaches rushed in random directions across the mirror and along the green tiles of the washroom walls. > To describe our living conditions as unsanitary is an understatement. > The cottage meets all the criteria of the EDCB to be considered by the government bonafide public health hazard. > I know this because I read it in the Residential Zoning/Bylaw Reference For Health and Safety. > I read the entire document before the spa sisters installed the Major Milking Machine 3000 (MX3) in the bedroom for the purpose of safety and discretion. > The last thing I need are officials from the bylaw office being prompted to pay us a visit only to discover the curious trail of tubes leading to our drums of highly illegal mare milk hidden beyond the backyard garden. > The unwashed stains of bodily fluid, rotting foods with the consistency of slimes, and mold so thick its like a forest is enough to make any right minded pony sick to their stomach. > It wasn't always like this though. > Before it became a house of sloth > I.e: Before Muffins moved in. > The cottage was my humble home. > A neat and tidy sanctuary for me and my animal friends. > After it seemed like all the animals had left for cleaner pastures > A furry four legged friend scurried into my heart > He lived in a nest of newspaper scraps at the foot of our bed. > He would crawl up my legs and sleep in my mane > This friend was a hydrophobic rat I named Foamy. > He made Muffins very uncomfortable (for obvious reasons) And I feel only a tad guilty that I found her discomfort humorous, considering how little she's respected my home since she moved in. > Unfortunately, I think that even he became worn out from living in this filth. > He’s probably found himself a dumpster in town, or a more hospitable trash heap. > It wouldn't be difficult to find one… > I wiped my face and body with five single use wet wipes and brushed my teeth with my Dr. Hooves electric toothbrush. > I downed my pills then returned to the bedroom where I started to get dressed. > Muffins, who hasn't worn anything beyond a pair of mismatched socks and lace panties for the past two weeks, watched me get ready for work. > “Do you want to do anything tonight?” She asked, twisting the suction cup attached to her right chest test. “Like what?” I replied, shuffling through my laundry pile > “I don't know…” > I threw on my wrinkled old t-shirt displaying the Canterlot Gardens zoo logo. > The logo was faded and buried under stains. > I stretched a poor fitting bra of similar quality to my shirt around my teats. > I looked like one of those welfare ponies of Manehattan. “I’m starting breakfast. Do you want any?” > Muffins placed her hoof over her grumbling stomach. > “Depends on what you're making.” She giggled “How about waffles?” > “Sounds great! I’ll have two!” > I dragged my hooves to the kitchen which was flooded in milk > The sub pump made loud humming and sloshing sounds as I prepared breakfast. > I made us toaster waffles and scanned the kitchen > The kitchen was by far the worst part of the house. > Muffins had fried the kitchens electricity with milk. > We’ve been living with the consequences of that little mistake for a while now. > The kitchen is a fetlock deep swamp of milk. > Damp, dark and flowering strange fawna. > I don’t know what we’re going to do when winter rolls around > I don’t think I can stay locked up in here for three months breathing in this poisonous air while climbing over mountains of trash/laundry. > I plugged the toaster into an extension cord running into the den, and plopped the room temperature waffles into the toaster slits. > “I’m ready for waffles!” Muffins cheered, now standing in the doorway with the plastic tubes tangled around her legs, dragging along the hardwood making an obnoxious racket. > Her tits hung free near touching the floor. > Unlike her crotchteats, which share the same dark shade of her genitals, her chest teats are the color of her coat. > All along both her chest teats were purple and blue veins of various size and thickness meandering towards her areolas. > Her nipples enclosed inside fogged transparent dome shaped suction cups. > Attached to the suction cps were the tubes of the MX3 which she now was wearing around her legs and torso. > I placed paper plates on the dining table, and decorated them with the wet, flabby waffles. > I brewed myself a tea and we took our seats across from each other. > Muffins was quick to indulge in decorating her meal. > She added maple syrup and powdered sugar to her waffle, then garnished it with a soggy pickle I had found in the very back of the fridge. > “I can't believe pickles are fruit!” Muffins cheered “Vegetable.” I corrected, staring blankly at my undressed waffle and tea. > “Tomato, potato!” Muffins laughed “I think the saying is…” > Muffins stared at me with a vacant expression > Her waffle, wrapped around the pickle like a burrito inches from her face, bled maple syrup over her tests. > I’m sure there's an innuendo in this image somewhere… “Ummm…nevermind.” I sighed > I sipped my tea and my tired eyes scanned the kitchen. > The walls had faded > Turned green with moss and mold > The bladed edges of broken dishes jutted from the pool of milky sludge. > Roaches skittered along the walls > I felt my stomach twist > When my eyes fell back to Muffins, she had somehow managed to tangle herself further into the tubes. > Her neck and left leg locked into place, the tubes constricted tightly along her breasts. > The more she fought the tighter the tubes became. “Honey, I’ve been very busy recently and would REALLY appreciate if you did a little cleaning today.” > Muffins stopped struggling and glassed the room > Her lips were puckered into a small O shape > The tube around her neck was tight. > “It looks fine to me.” She nodded, biting into her powdered sugar, maple syrup, pickle burrito waffle. “I know…but maybe you could at least do the dishes today? You said you would….Two months ago.” > Muffins crossed her hooves over her chest teats, dripping sap and pickle juice along her pulsing mammaries > She sunk in her seat and pouted. “Fluttershy! I can barely reach the sink with these things!” She whined, using her unrestrained hoof to point to her chest tits. > “You could when I asked you to do the dishes two months ago.” I shot > Muffins looked at the dishes in the sink > “Well…I would help with the dishes…But I still think they need to soak for a little while longer.” “Well, I think they've soaked for long enough.” I replied > “I don't know….T…They could probably soak a tiny bit longer.” “Muffins, you are aware that since you’ve moved in you haven’t done a single chore.” > “I help in other ways!” Muffins beamed “Like how?” > “My company!” She winked > The pickle slipped from the waffle and fell parallel between her teats. > Now this is definitely an innuendo. “I’m done feeding you.” I said blankly > “Wha…But…Then who’s going to cook!?” “You’ll have to do it yourself.” > Muffins eye darted around the room at all the kitchen appliances she never bothered to learn how to use > “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” She said rather indignantly “Okay.” I sang “But there's no dishes, the fridge is filled with moldy food, theirs no electricity in this room and that was these are the last toaster waffles.” > Muffins looked at waffle in horror > I felt proud of myself > “Fluttershy, wait! I’m…” > I Trotted out of the room and slammed the door. > I went through the backyard door into the garden. > I followes the trail of spiny, silicone tubes cutting through the yard and into the forest behind the cottage. > Just a few steps beyond the old white oak fence, hidden deep inside the rough of a large patch of wild pink feather grass sat twelve stainless steel drums. > I disconnected the tubes from two full barrels of milk then reattached the nozzles into two of the empty barrels. > The silicone tubes running from the bedroom to the garden are connected to a large console inside my bedroom closet. > The console is an appendage of the milking machine. > The milk runs from Muffins teats via four flexible transparent silicone tubes designed with a raised rigid pattern. > These tubes suck the milk from her teats and into the milking machine. A device no larger than a standard radiator. > The milk is fed through the milking machines, through a series of pumps and into the console. > The console itself is a highly advanced machine which distributes the milk into the appropriate barrels through twelve three hundred foot tubes. > The spa sisters call this machine a computing device because of its ability to calculate which barrels are full and which ones are empty. > I don’t fully understand it myself and I don’t dare touch any of its many flashing buttons. > My job is to deliver milk. Not get bogged down in the technical aspects of the new age milk distribution processor clunking about in my closet. > I collected the two freshly filled barrels of product, rolled them towards the cottage and loaded them upright along the left and right rear fenders of my scooter. Securing the shipment with an excessive amount of rainbow coloured bungee cords. > For all her limitations, and despite my fleeting feelings towards Muffins. The mare doesn't fail to impress. > Muffins can fill five fifty liter barrels in her sleep. > Her teats never cease lactation while still remaining taut. > They possess the power of constant growth. > And since the curse became active her teats have plumed into the four gloriously growing gray globes of touchably tender, milk swollen fun bags which I grow more enthusiastic about the more they expand. > Ponies lacking vision would probably say what has happened to Muffins to be a tragedy. > But I think her teats are beautiful. > What is even more incredible about Muffins, is that when stimulated, she can produce around the same amount of milk in mere minutes. > But, I don’t initiate that level of excitement in her > (Speaking as if I possess such abilities anymore) > No, unfortunately for me, she seems to only get off on the thought of other mares. > I hate how she makes me feel, but the lactate fetishiest in me wishes I could turn her like I used to… > If things had fallen into place as perfectly as I planned. Muffins and I would still be deeply entangled in love. > Our relationship is held tightly together by our incurable introverted inclinations and our obscene obsession with orbs, and the milk they produce. > With my two and her four, we would have made a perfect pair. > I’ve spent many years dreaming of our future lives. > She would be my eccentric stay at home marefriend who lives to satisfy my highly specific lactation fetish, while also fulfilling my desire to care for the less fortunate. > And to Muffins. I would be her caretaker. >The mare who supports her efforts and establishes healthy habits. > She was supposed to be my life's work… > I started to feel guilty for what I said > I dismounted the scooter and trotted back inside > Muffins was tinkering with the stove. > Her body still wrapped in tubes. “I told you that there's no electricity in here.” > Muffins jumped at the sound of my voice, inciting a massive spray of milk to discharge from all four of her teats. > The milk splashed along the walls of the fogged suction cups before being sucked through the tubes > “Fluttershy! I…I thought you left…” “And leave you tangled up like that?” I chuckled > I approached her and began untangling the tubes. > I unknotted the tube around her neck > Muffins shrilly inhaled and another gush of milk escaped her. > Curiously, excitement of any kind coaxes her body into quick, bulk production. > Thankfully, her excitement doesn’t always need to be sexual. > A good scare, a high sugar snack… > Anything to get her little heart beating beyond a natural resting rate. > Obviously, sexual stimulation yields the most milk. > But Muffins a difficult mare to “get off” > I’ve known her for near my entire life and we’ve been dating for half a year and I still know very little about her fetishes and fantasies. > Muffins sighed and placed her hooves around her neck and shivered > “I’m sorry I’m so useless.” “You’re not useless.” I replied “I’m sorry if I seemed cold…My mood swings are getting out of hoof. I’m supposed to be the one helping you.” > Muffins hung her head > “I…I’m…Sorry…” She sighed > I touched my hoof along her chin and delicately raised her head upwards so our eyes met. “You know I love you, right?” > “Y…Yes.” She stuttered “Muffins….I….I need you to help around the house and listen to me. I…I can't do this alone.” > “I understand.” She sniffled > I freed her leg then guided her back to the bedroom. > She laid inside the body shaped trench she had molded into the mattress and I tucked her back in. > I laid alongside her then began unwinding the tubes from her teats > My heart started to flutter with lustful excitement > I don't know why I find Muffins chest teats to be so erotic. > They’re unnatural and taboo. > But I’m a mare plagued with many peculiar sexual desires. > And because of my fetishes and morbidities I learned long ago that I can't fight my nature. > As I untangled Muffins breasts I fell into a fever of sexual passion. > I licked my lips as my hooves made contact with her orbs. > Muffins had her eyes lidded and tongue sprawled over the corner of her lip > She looked frustratedly excited. > It’s unfortunate that Muffins hates her chest teats. > But I can understand her irritation. > Her teats have grown so large that they now dwarf her body. > She has been rendered her near immobile by the wet and heavy burdens. > Her teats induce constant sexual excitement. > Muffins describes the feeling as an “unceasing sensation of near sexual completion.” > The caretaker in me empathizes with her struggles, and wishes her both growth and improvement. > But my lustful side takes pleasure in the embiggening of her bust. > Because I am a teat fetishiest at heart. > And the more they grow. > The greater the pleasure when caressing and molesting them. > After meticulously working through the knotted tubes along her teats, the tubes fell to the floor > I could feel my eyelids peeled into their sockets as I stared at her sweaty teats layered with veins. > I locked eyes with her as I massaged her each of her chest teats > Her skin was extremely taut around her milk swollen teats. > At one time, her teats were soft and easy to manipulate by hoof. > They had the density of half filled water balloons. > But now they are stiff like overinflated basketballs > The change from having soft teats to hard teats began when we started using the MX3. > The machine is one of a kind experimental milk extractor and has never been used in a practical setting. > Designed specifically for Muffins, the Spa sisters invested a lot of money into the MX3’s design. > Built overseas in Prance, smuggled into Equestria in pieces of the course of a month, and assembled by the spa sisters in the cottage. > The MX3 has the most powerful milk extractor ever created. > It is equipped with a highly advanced computing console which measures milk output, temperature (both of the machines internal and of the subject it is extracting the milk from), a heartbeat monitor and a panel which allows for customization of the machines operations. > The suction cups are locked around her teats by highly pressurized air. > The air both keeps the suction cups in place and extracts the milk efficiently. > When the spa sisters installed the MX3, they customized the settings of the machines control panel to “medium operation mode.” > Muffins spends eight hours in the machine a day. > Though, her production rate has steadily increased, the physical tolls of using the MX3, and the curse itself are becoming more prevalent. > I cupped my hooves around the MX3s suction cup latched over Muffins left nipple. > I slowly pulled the suction cup from her teat. > The air whipping through the tube and out of the vacant suction cup hummed like a vacuum. > Once the tube was dislodged, I tossed it onto the floor and stared at her thick, puffy nipple twitching eagerly. Spitting drops of milk into the air. > Muffins touched her hoof to her forehead > “I’m starting to get that dizzy feeling again…A…And my tummy hurts…” “Oh, poor Muffins.” I hummed, dragging my hoof slowly along the bottom of her nipple . > Muffins closed her eyes and exhaled “F…Fluttershy…I…I…Please….I…” > I leaned my face parallel to her nipple, near enough to where I could see every crack in her skin > Every little mound of tissue. > Her nipples have the consistency of sponges > They are fat and distended due to overuse > Her areola has darkened and bumps of various sizes have formed in this concentrated discolored area of her teat. > I closed my eyes and placed my tongue over her areola > I tasted her sweat and skin. > A thin sheen of her milk lay along her areola and zapped my tongue. > I don’t drink her milk. > It heightens my already crippling anxiety and hurts my heart > But just the right amount will give me a tolerable headrush > I removed my tongue and whispered to myself “You’re such a helpless little cow.” > “What did you say?” Muffins whimpered > I placed my tongue back against her areola, absorbing her milk and sweat. > The reminisce of milk soaked into her skin made my head tingle > Her sweat was salty and tasted intensely visceral in a way I can't describe. > Perhaps it's the highly stimulating milk rushing through my head. > But body tastes amazing, and is her most significant of her dwindling redeeming qualities l. > I returned my tongue to my mouth and opened my eyes. “Yes, honey?” I asked, still receding from my moment of lust > “I…I lost my pickle.” > I wiped my lips and my eyes met hers > She looked nervous > I collected the suction cup off the floor and placed it back on her teat “Where did you lose it?” > Muffins eye fell towards her cleavage “Oh! I see…Well I can grab it if you like.” > “S…Sure.” > I plunged my hoof between her teats and began fishing for the pickle > My leg fell deep into her bust. > I manipulated my wrist in circles > Poking aimlessly around her teat fat. > The space between her teats was predictably warm and sweaty, but had an uncanny aliveness. > Her tests pulsating to the rhythm of her beating veins. > “Find it yet?” “Not yet.” I replied > My leg was now half way down her bust and I’m beginning to think that the pickle had dislodged/slipped to the floor while she was tinkering with the stove and that the pickle was instead submerged somewhere in the kitchen milk swamp. > Her tests were now squishing my brittle bones “Muffins? Are you sure it's down here?” > She thought for a long moment “Oh yeah!” Muffins giggled “I ate it!” > I rolled my eyes then ripped my leg from her cleavage, causing her teats to wrinkle in fatty waves and the milk inside them to splash about. “I'm going to work.” > “What about dinner!?” She cried “I’ll be home early tonight to make dinner.” > “Promise?” “Yes, I promise.” > “Because you said you would last night and you didn't get home until ten.” > I inhaled sharply “I promise I’lll be home to cook dinner.” > “Thanks! I’ll be here waiting!” She sang > I exited the cottage, hopped on my scooter and headed into town. 7:30 AM: Delivery #1 > As my scooter putters down the empty streets of Ponyville I wipe my eyes awake and take in the absolute silence of the streets > Early mornings in Ponyville are always tranquil. > The way the sun casts its coral filter along the hills and buildings > The oblong shadows of the town's diverse architecture. > The scenery of Ponyville will never tire in my eyes. > But as much as I relish these intimate moments with Ponyville, the town's sickness is bubbling. > Hidden in the shadows, and shimmering in the sun. Empty glass bottles adorning the now famous “Best Pony” label lie stacked in gutters. > Missing posters for Diamond Tiara are pinned excessively along every vacant street pole and wall. > Pro-empire/earth pony supremacy graffiti riddles the alleyways. > This is not the Ponyville I know and love. > But the one I’ve helped destroy over the past couple months. > Every issue plaguing Ponyville have had my hooves involved in some way or another. > The milk destroying the town > The kidnapping of Diamond Tiara > The pro-empire vandalism > They all operate or have been assisted by a single common denominator. > A yellow pegasi mare whose love of her helpless marefriend trumps all other loves. > I feel dirty with what I’ve done to the town. > And I try to do the right thing whenever I can > But I’m always forced to choose between myself, my friends, the town itself and Muffins. > And I choose Muffins every single time… > Heading north toward the Old Ponyville Hotel, I see a couple “calf's” wandering the streets > My purpose for being awake at this hour is simple. > Sell my Muffins milk to a gang of foreign earth pony nationalist. > In more abstract terms, encompassing the totality of the situation while expressing my feelings on the matter. > I am headed to the Old Ponyville Hotel to hammer another nail into Ponyvilles near completed coffin. > Just a couple more and we'll have a high end coffin upholstered with the finest linen with wood cut from the tallest redwoods to lay this city to rest in. > When I reached the hotel, I turned left into the alleyway behind the hotel. > The path was swollen with Best Pony milk bottles. > I drove through the narrowing alley with care > To my right was the hotel. > A tall rectangular structure impersonating the regency style of architecture found often in Cloudsdale government buildings. > Often imitated, but never quite replicated justly. > To my left was the Ponyville bank, whose design incorporated a series of hollow composite doric columns based on the famous Cloudsdale Coliseums Cumulus Cloud Columns. > Often imitated. > But never justly. > Ponyville may be an earth pony town by population. > But pegasi influences can be found in much of the town's architecture. > This is because of a recent program spearheaded by Princess Cadance. > Princess Cadance, rules over the city state of the Crystal Empire but has been using her power to bring “culture to greater Equestria” > The Crystal Empire has a complicated relationship with greater Equestria. > Our ties are mostly positive. But due to the nature of how Cadance runs her kingdom, and her questionable allegiances. The Crystal Empire is significantly more isolated than other city states, such as Cloudsdale. > The biggest concern to Celestia lies in the fact that Cadance is the heir to princess Luna and the standing leader of the New Lunar Republic. > This is bad for Crystal Empire/Equestria relations because it signifies an ideologically opposition. > The two princesse will generally never agree on anything based on that basis alone. > Celestia is the princess of Equestria > Cadance has been titled the dictator of the Crystal Empire > Celestia is pro unification of the races > Cadance is selective, with a Pegasus biase. > Celestia is the virgin symbol of purity and hope. >Cadance is Equestrias whore who's promiscuity has funded an entire industry of tabloid who document her every action > Cadence be Cadence, enjoys the attention and is never shy when describing her exploits in obscene detail to newspapers and magazines. > Because of Cadances scandalous behaviors, alliance to the NLP, and callus operation of the Crystal Empire. Celestia keeps Cadance a comfortable distance from her kingdom to prevent what Celestial calls “Cadances contamination.” > Celestia will invites her to diplomatic events > Involves her in Equestrian domestic and foreign policy > And even forms alliances in particularly messy diplomatic issues. > I'm not the most politically knowledgeable mare. > But I’ve heard that Celestia often houses Cadance in the Canterlot castle whenever Cadence needs a change of scenery or when Celestia needs to use one of Cadances many “special talents” > This all relates back to the pegasi architecture seen popping up around Ponyville because Princess Cadance, (who has a preference for Pegasi) is a prominent investor in real estate across all of Equestria. > Cadance will purchase important real estate locations, tear down any existing structure on the property, and design “cultural landmarks” > Most ponies refer to them as “Candy Castles” > Because while they are based in Pegasus architecture, there's something uncanny about them. > She designs elaborate temples, towers and forts in the most unfitting areas, and when she's finished, she rents them at extortionate prices. > The Bits practically fall into her saddlebags. > I drove passed the final columns and arrived at the meeting spot adjacent to the unloading dock of the hotel. > Aryanne paced about the alley wearing her shiny black leather jacket, fitted with an excessive amount of pockets. > Her heavy Ponezer jackboots thumped along the concrete as she matched. > Franz leaned her rump along one of the pillars, dressed in a similar fashion to Aryanne. > The only differentiating factor between these uniform blue eye blonde mane mares is the decorated pasta strainer Franz wore atop her head in place of the peaked black officer cap which Aryanne adorns proudly each time we meet > Their fashion was boisterous and maintained with military diligence. > Their professionalism clashed with my limp and wrinkled, milk stained t-shirt punched with moth spots. > I parked the scooter and the leather clad radicals jumped into action. > Franz began unloading the milk barrels from my scooter. > “Took you long enough.” Aryanne huffed, standing uncomfortably close looking eager as usual to claim their share of Best Pony Product. > Franz was quickly started to untie the barrels. > Once they were unhooked from the scooter and placed firmly on the ground Franz grabbed her crowbar and tried to pry open the lip of the barrel. > She struggled to > Aryanne shoved her friend aside and cracked the barrel open with ease > “Unicorns.” Aryanne grumbled > Aryanne plunged her hoof into the milk then pulled it out quickly. > She raised her hoof to her mouth and drove her tongue along the spiny outsole of her waxy marching boots. > “Tastes as good as ever.” She shivered, eyes rolling back. > The euphoric effects of the milk forced her stern expression to slip into a intoxicated, wrinkled smile. > Aryannes knees began to tremble before suddenly buckling under her weight. > Her limp body started an lean weakly. > Lucky for her, Franz was a good friend and caught her before she hit the ground l. > Franz cradled Aryanne, hooves under Aryannes front legs. > Franz gave me a nervous cringing expression which I didn't know what to make of “Still not as good as straight from the source.” Aryanne chuckled, jumping back into a standing position. > Franz, who is the inferior of the two, started to roll the barrels onto a rectangular hotel luggage cart “Bits?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at the mares who looked all too eager to flee without paying. > Aryanne dug into her chest pocket and placed a cheque for ten thousand four hundred bits in my hoof. > “We’re selling this stuff quickly. We may need to up our order soon.” “You know the rules. I can only supply you with two barrels a day.” I said, securing the cheque into the scooters left rear fender storage area. > “Rules.” Aryanne grumbled, rolling her eyes “How much are you charging anyways?” > “What we do with our product isn’t your business” “The spa sisters won’t be happy if you don't keep your prices consistent with theirs. It’s in the contract.” > “It’s our milk.” Aryanne spat, milk dripping from her lips. “We paid for it, and were charged a higher business tax than them. I think it’s only fair that we do what we want with our purchases.” “You agreed to the terms.” I warned “I won’t say anything because I don't want to get in the middle of any drama. But if the spa sisters find out about this, they’ll be serving you your “eviction notices.” > Aryanne rolled her eyes again, then dipped her snout into the barrel and began lapping up the milk. > “The idiot…She cannot produce more?” Franz asked in her thick, Germare accent “Muffins can produce as much as she wants but prices and production aren’t up to her. Again, you signed the contract. You should know how this works by now.” > Aryanne’s head cocked from the barrel > She had that crazed Best pony milk high look in her eyes. > “It hardly matters!” She barked “Selling milk is only a means to an end! You’ll all be capitulating to us soon enough!” “I’m happy to hear it.” I replied sarcastically > Franz pulled Aryanne from the barrel. > Aryanne wasn't too pleased and shoved Franz away, nearly sending her toppling to the ground. > “I’m surrounded by useless Pegasi and unicorns!” She spat > Franz collected herself and began preparing the milk for transport into the hotel > “I bet you love Cadance!” Aryanne hissed, pointing her leather clad hoof at my accusingly “I…I think she’s very pretty…But that has more to do with my nature…” > “You’re precious pink pegasi princess will fall.” She warned “And when she does, your race will be godless.” > To my left, Franz draped the barrels under a tablecloth(!) and scooted the milk into the hotel through the large receiving gate “Aryanne. I think I should go now.” I sighed > Aryanne stepped towards me and jabbed the point of her hoof into my leg > “Who will you worship when Cadance falls?” > Blood started to run from her snout and she began gritting her teeth > My heart thumped along my ribs “Cadance is a very pretty mare, but she’s not my princess.” I shivered “Celestia is my princess.” > “But you would still make love to her, no? She is what you call….The supreme alpha pegasi?” “Y…Yes…B..But I don’t…” > “So it’s in your nature to do as she commands, yes?” “Well…You see…I..It’s really more complicated than that…” > Aryanne placed her hoof along my leg and chuckled > “You’re princess is beautiful, we can agree on that, yes?” > I nodded in agreement “But some of her features…They confuse me.” She continued > I bit my lip and looked at Franz who was wearing that worried sour expression again > “The six teats for example. Do you find them attractive?” > I looked up and away > “Fluttershy?” She sang playfully “I do.” > “Because it's in your nature, correct?” > I threw my wings over my face “Yes.” > “And you claim to be the purest race.” She spat “The earth Ponies may be flirtatious, and the unicorns eccentric. But the Pegasi are the worst. Your hierarchies are nothing but selective mating disguised as patriotism. You’re type has breed for nothing but beauty and you worship Cadance like a god because you're a hive mind.” “I do not!” > “You can deny it all you like but the fact is you would happily support her in an insurrection of the throne!” “Aryanne. I am a citizen of Equestria and stand by Celestial.” > Aryanne tapped my leg and smiled “We’ll see how loyal the Pegasi are when the Cadence empire crumbles.” > Franz grabbed Aryanne by the hoof and dragged her into the hotel > “Your time is running thin, Fluttershy. And your princess will fall. 8:00 AM: Mayor's Office > After completing a delivery, I’m expected to deposit any milk related payment to the Mayor. > She collects a portion of profits and payment off both the nationalist and the spa sisters. > I'm something of the middle mare between the three parties. > My responsibility to the mayor is to ensure she gets her cut of milk money. > The position has made me an honorary delivery mare to the mayor, and an official/unofficial city hall employee. > The mayor collects all of our profits and subtracts a generous portion as “tax.” > This fee allows Best Pony to flow through Ponyville uninhibited. > City Hall is a short, three minute drive south of the hotel. > I made an effort to arrive quickly so as not to be seen by anypony. > When I arrived at city Hall, parked my scooter along the stairway and entered the tower. > The mayor had provided me with an express key card to her office. > She is available for milk related deposits between 7AM - 4PM. > I walked upwards through the large spiraling staircase up to her office. > Once I reached the very top of the tower I followed the hall left until reaching her office > I tapped my key card over the black box along the doorframe, enticing the locking mechanism to pop the deadlocks from their home and allow my entrance into her office. > The mayor's office is long and encompassing. > The walls are lined with bookshelves from the floor to the ceiling. > At the far end of the circular room, an obnoxiously wide white oak desk where the mayor sat. > Behind the desk was a large window overlooking Ponyville, but the view is always draped by a thick red wool curtain. > The mayor, an older mare with a gray mane and tan brown fur, sat at the desk scribbling into a notebook. > I dropped the crumpled check on her desk and waited for acknowledgement. > I looked about the room like I had a dozen times before. > The room was always intensely quiet and cool. > A large Lonely room occupied by a mare of similar description. > Once Mayor Mare finished her official business. She plopped her pen into an empty coffee cup with the words “World's best mayor” etched into the ceramic. > She unraveled the check and nodded matter-of-fact with lidded eyes. > Her lips had the personality of a single straight line drawn on an empty piece of paper. > She placed the check in her desk drawer and locked it thrice. > “Thank you very much Fluttershy. This money will do the town well.” “I don't doubt it.” I replied, eyeing her solid gold wrist watch. > She began shuffling through the stack of paperwork along her desk. “Mayor?” > “Yes?” “What do you plan on doing with all these bits anyways?” > “Why do you ask?” “It’s just that…You say the money is going towards fixing the town, but honestly….I’ve never seen Ponyville in such disrepair.” > “What do you expect me to do?” She asked snidely “I don’t know…Maybe clean the streets a little better?” I replied, sinking my neck between my shoulders. > “Fluttershy, I don’t want you worrying your pretty little head about such issues.” She said, jumping from her seat “In fact, you should probably stay out of politics all together. You aren’t exactly a tax paying citizen.” She said with a forced political laugh “I know, I was only trying to help.” “Fluttershy, you’re already great help! In fact, I have another special job for you today!” “Mayor…I really don’t like these jobs…” I groaned, eyes falling to the floor > “But you’re so good at them!” > I tried to force a smile. > But pulling my lips into an unnatural position never feels right. > I dropped the act as quickly as I adorned it “Mayor, can I please just drop off your money and be on my way. Everytime I come here, I’m roped into a job.” > Her right eye twitched and ears stood pointed > “Fluttershy, do I have to get out the list?” She warned “Don't force my hoof.” She said with a stern parental tone “No…I don’t think that’s…” > Mayor Mare swiped a coffee stained sheet of lined notebook paper off of her desk and began reading aloud. > “I, Mayor Mare will now present to the crown evidence of Fluttershy's involvement in the following crimes: Milk production for the purpose of selling, Milk dealing, Sexual deviance involving milk, being an employed at an illegal brothel, prostitution, Running an illegal mail service, Operating an uncertified veterinarian clinic, Public intoxication, Possession of illegal teat enhancing drugs, Harboring a criminal, Opium dealing, Ties to organized crime, tax evasion and tax fraud….” “I understand, mayor.” I interrupted, “I’m sorry for questioning you. What would you like me to do?” I sighed > She smiled and released her grip from the paper. > It fluttered to the desk as she marched towards me with intention in her eyes > She circled around my legs a couple times, glancing over my entirety. > I could almost feel her eyes scanning and scrutinizing me. > Every so often she would let out a high pitched agreeable noise followed by a nod of the head. > “Of all the ponies in town you are the most peculiar.” “Not Muffins?” > “Muffins isn't a citizen of Ponyville.” > “I was finally able to press the post office into giving me Muffins employment history.” > I closed my eyes and sighed > “As it stands there exists no official reports of her existence. Her personal information was destroyed in the fire and because she resided in Old Ponyville she went under the radar. There are no tax records, no birth certificate, no land claims. And her employment history has been erased. She’s a ghost. Just as you requested.” “Thank you, mayor.” > “You know, making a mare disappear isn't usually this easy. Usually you need to burn everything, create a fake alias…It’s a long process. From my perspective, it was a waste of a favor. You only get one friendly favor from Mayor Mare.” “She’s safe now. If anything happens she can disappear. That's all that matters.” > Mayor Mare stopped near my backside and leaned her right front leg against my back, right leg. Allowing all of her body weight to press into me. > Mayor Mare isn’t a big mare, but her weight pressing along my weak bones caused them to bend > “I understand your concerns. If Muffins were to be found and tried for her crimes, she would certainly get a fierce penalty.” “I know.” > “Some of your offenses are twenty year terms alone.” She said, skating her opposite hoof along my teat just above my bra strap. “If we were to combine all your charges and present them to a judge. You face the potential of spending the rest of your life in Tartarus, or worse! You could end up in one of Celestia's other, lesser known. black sites…A black site without a title. Exempt from any map, with a name like…Site 12202, or -456822 B.” > I gulped at the thought > “And if you went away, Muffins would be all alone, without her brave marefriend protecting her. What would happen then?” “I…I…I don’t know. I assume you’ll take her in?” I replied half joking > “Me?” She laughed “I can't have her wandering about city hall mucking up my files and making a mess of things! You must remember her incident at the post office? She made a proper mess from what I heard. Cost the taxpayers hundreds.” “I think I know what happened at the post office better than Anypony, considering I consolidated her for a month about it.” > “And that's why you're the best mare to handle her.” She replied in an insincere tone. “You care SO much, and so deeply about her. Most mares in Muffins state of mind end up in either psych wards, prison cells or state funded rooming houses for the unwell.” “I…I know.” > “My question is, why did you choose to use your one favor on Muffins?” > Mayor Mare stuck her hoof under the elastic of my bra and slid her hoof back and forth. > “You could have gotten a tax write off, your debts paid off, I could have made you disappear. And you would never have to worry about this ever again.” “You and I both know that would never happen.” > Mayor Mare closed her eyes and nodded > “Perhaps you’re right.” “I did what I had to for the safety of my marefriend. Because when the CIA get here they will never find her.” > “You keep telling yourself that.” She snapped the elastic of my bra along my teat before returning to her desk. > “If the CIA arrives in Ponyville I promise you that records won't be the only thing to “go missing.” > I gulped again > “Now, back to official business, hmm?” “I ..I guess…” > “I’ll keep it simple, Fluttershy. It has come to my attention that ponies are purchasing unregulated mare milk slushies in Central Ponyville park. I would like you to inquire about this issue.” “Me? Isn’t this more of a police issue? I’m not an investigator…” I trailed off > “Under normal circumstances I would involve the police. But unfortunately for the safety of our operation I must resort to inside talent. Because he police write reports. And the contents of every police report across Equestria collected by Canterlot. We wouldn’t want any of those reports getting into the hooves of the Canterlot Investigation Agency, would we? Those CIA mares aren’t like local authorities. They will investigate thoroughly and they will find us.” > My eyes hit the floor > “And when government agents start poking their noses in the wrong places, threatening my career and my public perception. Certain ponies are going to “go missing” > I sat with the thought for a long moment > My mind wandered > Soon, I found myself comfortably zoned out. “Mayor, can I make a citizen's complaint?” > “It's definitely in your right.” She sighed, falling to her hoof along her cheek. > It seems like the idea of attending to actual public office duties deflated her excitement. “I think we should be placing warning labels on Muffins milk. It's clearly dangerous and…” > “Is this about the calf's again?” She groaned “Y..Yes…” > She rolled her eyes dramatically > “I already told you that the problem will work itself out.” “I know what you said that but I’m just…Kind of….Wondering how? How will it work itself out?” > “Fluttershy, what exactly is your problem? Must you always be asking questions? I told you…No, instructed you to stop worrying. Why don’t you listen to me?” “I’m sorry, mayor…” > “It's only milk. It’s not like it’s going to kill anypony.” “But what if it does kill somepony!?” I snapped “I’ve seen what happens to these milk addicts. These “calves” As you like to call them. We can't keep pushing them aside and pretending they aren't a problem!” > “Again, what do you suggest we do?” “Treatment options? Harm reduction? Warning labels? I don't….I don't rightly know…” > “These are all wonderful ideas.” She nodded “But I guarantee you that none of them will work.” “Why not? I’m sure if we tried we could…” > Mayor Mares' chair squeaked as she stood up. > She returned to my side, parallel to the teat she had previously assaulted with my bra strap. “What are you…?” > She started caressing my teat > “Fluttershy, calves want nothing more than to fatten their milk distended bellies.” She explained, licking her lips and fondling my teat with her hoof “And I don't blame them. I’m something of a calf myself.” She chuckled, rubbing her chubby tummy with her left leg while caressing my teat with her right. “But the difference is you can afford it. What about the helpless ponies who have developed a habit they can't afford? The ponies who spend their entire paychecks, sometimes even selling themselves and their homes for Muffins milk?” > Mayor mare peeled my bra from my right teat and freed my nipple. “Mayor?” I peeped, looking down at her slowly massaging my nipple > “Yes, continue. I’m listening.” She replied, rolling her eyes. > I felt her placing mouth around my nipple and her tongue rolling around my areola. > “I…I ummm…Ponies…They…They…” > She removed my teat from her mouth, looked me dead in the eye and with a sarcastic smiling expression. > She sighed in sultry satisfaction and said > “Please continue. I’m hanging on every word.” > She then returned her mouth to my teat and continued sucking. “I…I think what we're doing is wrong. Y..You know how I feel about this business….I’ve made it clear many times…Do we really want a town of milk fatten mares meandering aimlessly around town thinking only of their next fix? I know I’m contractually obligated to work in this business… And that you won't stop selling Muffins milk regardless of how I feel…B..But I want it to be known that I at least said my piece on the matter and will continue to do so until something is done.” > She removed her mouth from my teat > Milk dripped onto the floor > “Is that all?” She asked, milk battered along her lips. “Yes…That's all I have to say.” I nodded > She stood in thought for a moment, eyes locked onto my wet, dripping nipple. > “Fluttershy?” “Yes?” > She wiped her mouth and gave my teat a firm slap “Ouchie!” > “You're milk tastes like hot garbage and you're speaking out of rank.” > I hung my head and placed my hoof over the bridge of my snout in frustration > I don't believe she considered a single word I had said. “Mayor, I…” > “But you do make some good points. Perhaps I'll commission Rarity to design some girdles. A town of milk stuffed mares isn't good for optics. I have an election approaching and public health is at an all time low.” > She returned to her desk, equipped her pen and pulled her notebook from her desk drawer. > “Now put your tits away and get them to Central Ponyville Park. The longer you linger the more money those mischievous mares are making with their subpar, untaxed milk.” > “Okay, Mayor.” > I cupped my teat back into its home and dragged my aching frame back to my scooter. 8:30 AM: Central Ponyville Park > I hopped onto my scooter and headed to the park. > The mayor sends me on jobs near daily. > A I was fine with them initially. > But over the last week they’ve been getting stranger. > A couple days prior she wanted me to oversee a shipment of opium arriving at the Ponyville distribution center. > They were mares from the far East. > And though I couldn't understand a word of what they were saying. > They seemed nice enough…Considering their line of work, of course… > The spa sisters have been on a crusade against opium for the past three weeks > They see it as competition to Best Pony product. > So I was a little confused as to why the mayor wanted me to oversee a shipment of the stuff, considering the spa sisters' contentions with the product. > But I’m often instructed to do things but never trusted with details. > I only find out what they're up to when it's too late. > This particular errand seems strange. > The mayor often sends me to work under the table on her behalf. > Usually the jobs are low risk in terms of potential confrontation. > Oversight of shipments containing illegal items > Picking up her groceries while she’s working > Cleaning her county summer home after her son has a party. > Most of my work for the mayor are the things she would rather not deal without out of laziness. > But this is a different kind of job. > Usually Aloe is sent on jobs involving muscle. > If a Pony is late on a milk payment, or a mare gets the bright idea of selling her own milk thinking she’s the next “Best Pony” Aloe is quick to resolve the issue. > Aloe is good at her job. > Because Aloe is easily excited to inflict pain on others. > Her reputation is well known by pretty much all of Ponyville, and she frightens me greatly. > Since she became a regular consumer of Muffins milk, Aloe has only become more viscous. > Her work has gotten sloppy and her generous “beatings of justice” Are leading to hospital visits > Aloe is a rabid dog who can only be controlled by Lotus. > This means whenever an opportunity presents itself to partake in unimpeded violence, Aloe tends to go overboard. > That may be the reason why Mayor Mare sent me on this job instead of Aloe. > The fact that their won’t be any broken bones or busted noses by the end of our meeting probably eases the mayors mind. > When I arrived parked the scooter under the parks gated entrance and headed into inside > The park was located near enough to city hall to receive daily maintenance. > Not milk bottles or graffiti here… > I tried to walked casually > Keeping a lookout for signs of mare milk consumption. > It didn't take me long to run into one of Muffins loyal “Calfs” > Near the pale stone fountain erected to commemorate the second founding of Ponyville I spotted a purple mare. > She’s wide in the belly with wide jittering pupils. > With such a description, this mare surprisingly WASN’T Twilight Sparkle… > This mare was a regular at the milk bar. > Her name is Star Skipper > And she has all the physical symptoms of a best pony addict. > Unlike most drugs, which cause a slow wasting effect over long stretches of time. Consumers of Muffins milk appear relatively healthy, albeit a little girthy in the stomach. > Their thick fatty stomachs jiggle and occasionally whine when left unsatiated. >“Best Pony Cravings” Is what we call these pained stomach groans. > A “calf” as ponies have come to call them, will do anything for Best Pony milk. > This can manifest in violence, irritability, extreme hunger, extreme heat and manic mood swings. > Along with the large bellies and unpredictability; Calves are also, on average incredibly sexually active. > Initially, I thought that this behavior was a means to an end. > A sober mare (such as myself) connects the dots simply as follows: > A calf has sex, to make money, to buy more Best Pony milk. > While it's not unheard of for milk addicts/Calfs to partake in prostitution for their habit. > The studied answer is more complicated > A calf cursed with substantial dependency on Muffins milk will often develop a bizarre condition called “Neurologically Necessary Nymphomania.” > A cluster C obsessive disorder with traits similar to OCD. > Mares with NNN will become carelessly promiscuous with large number of partners > They do this due to what we believe is a compulsive “need to breed” > NNN is a primal condition which invokes a slew of obscene acts, performed under the duress of either irresponsibility, irrationality, irritability or insanity. > When the spa sisters came to me with this discovery, I couldn’t believe it was real. > The symptoms of this condition are so contrived that they might as well be in one of Muffin's smutty “romance” novels written by some overzealous stallion. > But apparently, this is our reality now... > Star Skipper stood near the fountain shuddering. > The size of her belly signaling to me that she’s been a calf for a while now… > In her right hoof she holds a transparent single use plastic cup > Inside the cup a white liquid sloshes about. A crown of foam sits atop the liquid. > Her face was greasy and covered in irritated pimples > I haven’t seen Star in months > She became a regular shortly after the spa sisters integrated prostitution as one of the milk bars primary services. > F “Ummm…Hello…” > “Fluttershy!?” The mare squeed “H..Hi, Star.” > “It’s been so long since we’ve talked!” “Yes…It certainly has.” > Her voice was shrill and every syllable was enunciated to a grating degree > Every time we spoke I feel an intense urge to shove hoof-fulls of cotton in my ears. > “How have you been!?” “I’ve been fine…Just…Working…” > “That’s great!” She replied, throwing her hooves into the air > “I’m still working at McHoofies.” She snorted “You should come by! We’re having a sale on Numgets this week!” “While I appreciate the offer, I’ve told you MANY times in the past that McHoofies is a morally bankrupt institution selling murder to other morally bankrupt mares too ignorant and lazy to make their own food.” > She stared at me for a long moment “But, I guess it’s a good job…” I sighed > “It really is!” She said dreamily “Are you still the manager of the one on Haywood. Road?” > “No actually…I lost that title a while ago…I blew all my money at the milk bar and was caught stealing from the registers. Now I’m just a fry cook…” “I’m sorry to hear that. I tried to tell a number of times to stop buying it.” > “I know. Now that I can’t afford it I’m stuck with this crap.” She said, shaking the cup in her hoof “Where did you get that drink anyways? It looks delicious.” > “Oh! They’re selling them under the bridge down that way!” The mare said, pointing down a winding trail deeper into the park “Ummm….Do you know what’s in them?” I questioned > The mare gave me a puzzled expression “It’s a milkshake. I assume milk?” “Oh, of course! That is kind of a silly question.” I chuckled, feeling a bit ignorant for asking such an obvious question > “It's nothing like the best Pony stuff. But it’s cheap and makes me feel some sort of way.” “What way may that be?” I asked > “It's a filling milk. And each sip is like a quick dopamine rush. But it quickly fades, so I need to take another sip regularly to keep the buzz going.” “I don’t rightly follow. But I’m kind of happy I don’t.” > “It’s like your first bite out of a freshly cooked Burmger at McHoofies. It tastes great and makes you feel very satisfied. But deep down, you know it’s bad for you.” “I see. Well, thank you for the information.” > “No problem!” > She went back to sucking down her beverage > I followed the winding trail toward the old cobblestone bridge. > I ducked as entered the mouth of the bridge > Most of Ponyville wasn’t designed for mares of my height > It was in the tunnel I saw two ponies shrouded in patchy black robes huddled next to each other leaning along the tunnel wall “Ummm…Hi…I would like to buy a milkshake?” > The ponies face was covered beneath their hood, but I could see one of their pink little snouts poking from the shadows > “What size!?” The cheery mare beamed “Ummm….What flavors do you have?” > “We have chocolate, banana, vanilla, cherry, and cupcake!” > It was then I realized who this mysterious pink mare with the high pitch excitable voice was. > My heart sank “Pinkie Pie!?” > Pinkie threw off her hood > “Darn it! How did you know!?” She cried > The mare to Pinkies right, in a rather dramatic fashion pulled away her hood and immediately jumped into berating Pinkie. > “I told you this was a stupid disguise!” She snapped, craning her neck into Pinkies personal space. “I said we should dress as ghosts! But you wanted to work in your pajamas!” > “THE ROBES WERE A GOOD IDEA!” Pinkie screeched > As the two argued, I eyed the mare opposite of Pinkie > This mare is peculiar. > In lieu of flesh, her body appears to be constructed of a thin, stretchy plastic material. > The plastic was transparent. Along the inner walls of the mare's strange polyethylene shield. > Gallons of milk sloshed about wildly through her hollow frame. > Behind her lively purple eyes sat, what appears to be a bioelectrical mechanism resembling a brain. > A blue pulsating, gelatin substance held together by a thin wiry frame sealed behind a second, thicker wall of the transparent polyethylene. > This “brain” was biological and appeared to operate off a self-sustaining electric current which, when activated, caused a storm of electric discharge, invoking hypnotic pulsations within the mangled biological portions of the mechanism. > I was stunned, but I quickly realized who this mare was…or rather, what remained of her. “Trixie! Is that you!?” > The mares eyes struck mine, then rolled in an exhausted fashion > “Yes, it’s me. The great and powerful Trixie.” She grumbled “I heard they did surgery on you after the party but…I…I don’t understand…What did they do to you!?” > “It’s a long story.” Trixie sighed > “It's pretty neat” Pinkie snorted “Watch this!” > Pinkie grabbed one of the disposable plastic cups and jabbed it into Trixies chest. > Her hoof peeled beyond the transparent shell with ease. > With her hoof now plunged deep inside Trixies milk swollen husk I watched as the milk rushed into the cup. > Pinkie then promptly removed her hoof revealing a cup filled with thick, white milk. > Pinkie added a dab of foam using her whipped cream dispenser and presented me with the drink. > “That’ll be five bits!” “Huh? B…But…How did you do that?” > “I filled Trixie with my milk! She lowers her internal temperature to keep it cold and we sell mare milk milkshakes to ponies all across town!” > I have so many questions… “Do ponies know they’re drinking mare milk?” I asked, looking down at the deliciously decorated drink > “No…Nopony asks…” “Pinkie! You can’t be selling ponies your milk without telling them! It’s unethical!” > Pinkie looked blankly at me > “I once got the entire town drunk for the purpose of sleeping with married ponies to extort them.” “P…Pinkie! I’m trying to say that….That…Well…You can’t be selling these drinks anymore! You’ll get me in trouble!” > “What do you mean!? I’m making an honest living out here! What does what I do with my milk have anything to do with you?” “Pinkie, Mare milk dealing is far from honest. Especially when you don’t tell ponies it’s mare milk.” I said flsttly > “First you put me in a chastity cage and now this! Whose side are you on!” “I’m trying to keep you safe! If the mayor finds out about this, you’re going to be in big trouble!” > “Who says anypony is going to tell?” Pinkie giggled, nudging my left teat with her elbow “I don’t want any trouble Pinkie. But the mayor won’t be happy with this. She said so herself.” > “Oh! So that's what this is! You're a messenger for the mayor! And she's using you to get back at me for sleeping with her husband!” “Mayor Mare isn't married.” I said, again in a flat emotionless tone > “Ms. Mayor Mare WAS a married mare until her husband remarried a Manhattan mare, who models in magazines. Ms. Mayor Mare broke up with Mr. Mayor Mare when Ms. Mayor Mare marched into her room and saw me making out with Mr. Mayor Mare!” >.... > “It was aMarezing!” “Pinkie! That's not funny!” I cried > “What? I thought the entire town knew about this!” > My eye began to twitch “You actually slept with Mayor Mares husband?” > “Yep!” She cheered “And I’ve never heard about this until now?” > “Geez, you really are out of the loop!” Pinkie cackled “You sleep with one Kitsun and everypony calls you a dog Rutter for the rest of your life!” > “Fluttershy, calm down…” > It’s An unsubstantiated rumor based on hearsay from the mouth of Ponyvilles biggest gossip! This kitsune nonsense has followed me for five years! But you can sleep with everpony in town, ruin relationships, spread disease, SLEEP WITH THE MAYORS HUSBAND! and somehow your reputation bounces back to the status que every time!” > I placed my hoof over my heart > My blood was boiling > “What can I say? I’m irresistible.” Pinkie winked > I slicked back my greasy mane > My lips formed into wrinkled smile which I couldn’t snuff off my sweating, shaking face. “The mayor has never once mentioned such an incident. She just wants you to stop. Plain and simple.” I explained > “Hmmmm….” Pinkie began, pirsing her hoof under her chin “Has the mayor ever mentioned the time that I slept with her campaign manager? Or when I gave her son a blowjob? Or last Nightmare Night when I broke into city hall dressed up like her and let ponies run a train on me?” “I can't believe this…I’ve been getting grief from everypony in town for liking Muffins, and because of that ridiculous Kitsune rumor for years! And you…You do awful things to ponies all the time! And nopony cares! I bet you could kill a pony and nopony would care!” > “Fluttershy! Killing is illegal!” Pinkie giggled “So is prostitution!” I shot > I tossed my hooves over my cheeks > Has the world gone mad? > Or has it always been like this? > Am I blind? > These revelations are too much for a weak heart like mine. > I always knew Pinkie was filthy. > She doesn't exactly hide her indecency. > But I never considered the totality of her actions in relation to myself and how I am treated and perceived by the community. > I’m nothing but pathetic… > I reached into my saddlebag and scooped a hopeful of emergency anti anxiety pills. > I swallowed them with a large gulp of Pinkies milk. > Which was to her Pinkies credit, induced a very mild burst of euphoria. > It tasted like a salty hayburger doused in sugar. > The medicine, coupled with the milk sobered my mind quickly > My eyes softly narrowed and I felt a genuine smile cross my face. > My body hummed into calm > And I stood on the cusp of that tranquil zone out state. >... > “Thank you, have a wonderful day!” > I shook my head and saw Pinkie waving “Huh!? W…What happened?” > “I don’t know. You took your pills then immediately stopped talking.” “Oh…Sorry…I…” > “The you just stared into space fo ten minutes. You’re eyes were wide as you intensely stared forward.” “I’m sorry….What were we talking about again?” > “You were upset that I have more fun than you.” “No, NO! I was upset because I have to live up to higher standards than you!” > Pinkie crossed her hooves > “And who’s fault is that?” “What do you mean?” > “Maybe life is easier for me because I own who I am. I don’t hide the fact that I’m easy, or that I sell my body for sex, or that I once gave head to the mayors son. Sure, my reputation isn’t stellar, but atleast I’m not walking around worrying about what other ponies may or may not know.” “So I should just tell everyone I sleep with animals?” > “Depends. Do you have sex with animals?” >.... > “Fluttershy?” “Nooo….” > “Oooo! Fluttershy! That doesn't sound honest!” She teased > I threw my wings over my face > “Fluttershy! It's nothing to be ashamed of! There are ponies WAY weirder than you! I would know, I slept with half the town!” “And you're proud of that?” > “Like I said, I don't see it as a negative thing. It just sort of happened. And it’s not like I can ever take it back, so why get twisted in the past?” She shrugged “Pinkie. Have you ever done anything sexual with Muffins?” > Pinkie looked up in thought > “Well, we kissed in the closet at the party…” “The party….You mean the same party where I was trying my hardest to impress her!?” > “She was also pretty naked at the time.” Pinkie pondered “We used our tongues too. But it wasn't sexual!” She snorted “Pinkie!” > I had never felt so betrayed "I'm telling the mayor all about this! So you better stop!" > "Fluttershy! Relax! It was just..." > "I hopped onto my scooter and headed home 12:00 PM: Daily Lunchtime argument with Muffins > I returned home to collect two more barrels of milk for the spa sisters before going to work. > I’m still furious at Pinkie for betraying me like she did, and I can’t remember a time where I’ve been more angry at another pony. > The worst part of the situation is that Pinkie had never once showed interest in Muffins until I told her my feelings. > And instead of being a good friend and respecting our space. Pinkie starts to make moves on Muffins! And within twenty minutes the two are making out in the closet like two fillies playing a perverted party game! > Muffins isn’t off the hook either. > Because that same night, Muffins told me that I was her first kiss, and I believed her. > All these lies make me wonder what else Muffins and my other friends fabricated over the years. > After collecting the barrels and strapping them to my scooter, I went inside the cottage to retrieve my uniform. > I entered the house, dragging my hooves through the garbage > Heart pumping fiercely as I neared the door > Emotions blazing > Head feeling dizzy > Heat building between my legs > Stomach acids flaring > Teats pulsating > Eyes watering > Bones aching > When I finally reached the bedroom I kicked in the door. > Muffins jumped, throwing the blankets over herself > A book titled “The Wanting Mare” slid from the bed onto the floor > Hi, Fluttershy! I was just…Reading!” > I stood in the doorway scanning the mountains of laundry and trash for my outfit > A muffled humming noise, sounding mechanical in nature filled the room. “So, while I’m out working. You’re sitting at home all day masturbating.” I huffed > “I was just reading.” She peeped > I started dredging through the trash, searching high and low for my outfit “When you read those romance books, who are you picturing?” I asked, refusing to acknowledge her with eye contact > “I’m thinking of you of course!” “Is that so?” > “Yep!” She nodded > I turned to her and stared her dead in the eye “Not some other pony?” > “Who wold I be thinking of?” She gulped “I don’t know…Some pony with a pink coat….A little thick in the hips…Ten nipples…” > “Y…You mean Pinkie? W…Why would I be thinking of Pinkie?” “I don’t know, Muffins. Why wouldn’t you think of Pinkie? You clearly find her attractive!” > “Fluttershy? Are you having one of your….Various…Mental “attacks” again? “Why didn’t you tell me you kissed Pinkie!?” I snapped, slamming my hoof to the floor > “W…W…What!? I…Fluttershy, I…” “You kissed Pinkie the night of the party! Then I kissed you! And you said I was your first kiss!” > “Ummm….Y..Yeah…I..I remember…That?” She replied with uncertainty “You lied to me!” > “F…Fluttershy you’re…You’re misunderstanding…It wasn’t r…romantic…It was…W…w…” > I bolted to the bedside and firmly grabbed the tubes connected to her chest teats > “Muffins. How many ponies have you kissed?” “Just you! A…And Pinkie…And…I kissed Twilight in her sleep once…B…But T…Thats…Thats it…” > The humming became louder > Muffins eye pointed down toward her teats > Her ears fell flat along her head and face turned red > She started to laugh nervously “What in Equestria is that noise!?” I asked, releasing my hooves from the tubes > “Probably just the MX3?” She peeped > I looked around the room but couldn’t spot anything out of the ordinary “You’re an awful liar.” I said > Muffins gulped again, looking more nervous than ever > I began tossing articles of clothing about the room as I searched for my uniform, “You know. I’ve been very honest about everything regarding my past. You know I’ve partaken in my share of fun.” > “Yes…I know.” She sighed “You know I love you, right?” > “Yes.” “And that I will do anything to keep you safe?” > “Yes!” She groaned “Muffins!” I giggled, you don’t have to be so dramatic!” > Muffins eyes widened, and her jaw dropped “All I’m saying is that we’re in a relationship. We need to be honest.” > Muffins crossed her hooves and wore a quizzical glare > “I..Is that so?” “Yes.” I nodded “I told all about what Milky and I got up to when we were friends. You know I can be a little playful!” I laughed > “So did you have sex with a Kitsune?” > I leaned close to the ground digging through the laundry “Muffins….You know that story is false….” > “Because I’ve heard that rumor from lots of ponies and for a long time now. But when I ask you, you never give me a straight answer.” “Strawberry is a liar! You know that.” > “She’s never told me a lie.” Muffins spat > I raised my neck from the ground and locked eyes with Muffins “Muffins. You’re speaking on matters you know nothing about.” > “You still haven’t answered my question.” “Why does it matter?” > “Because you said you wanted honesty!” “What does a ridiculous rumor about Kitsune have to do with anything!?” > “B….Be….Oh, geez…..B…B….” > Muffins rolled her eye and inhaled sharply > Because…I…Y…You see…It…” “You kissed Pinkie and didn’t tell me!” I shot, interrupting her response > “Fluttershy! I…I was trying to do the right thing! I was nervous! I asked Pinkie to help me be a better kisser because I was nervous about kissing you! I love you! But we can’t keep living like this!” >... “So you admit it?” > “Yes! I thought we already made that point clear!” “Muffins?” > “Y..Yes?” “If you had consented to copulation with a Kitsune, would you be quick to concede to such an embarrassing fact?” > “I…I don’t know…But….That's….That’s not a straight answer either!” > I grabbed my uniform and left the house. 1:00 PM: Milk Bar > After a heated discussion regarding Derpy's dumb and adulterous decisions I drove east to the Old Ponyville black market. > With my scooter strapped with two fresh barrels of milk and my costume in my saddlebag I was ready to start my day. > I work under the spa sisters in the ruins of the Old Ponyville quarry > A market is buried deep beneath a mountain of steel and wood detritus > Small, tubular rays of sunlight pierce through the tiny cracks amongst the waste overhead. > The outskirts of the mine is spotted with large stainless steel towers with heights reaching beyond the clouds. > The mine is a graveyard of mystery. > Nopony knows the purpose of the towers, the quarry, or the mine itself > As citizens of Ponyville we don’t talk about the mine. > It’s an uncomfortable topic of discussion for many. > It takes around ten minutes of walking to get to the market > The path is winding and narrow. > The walls are lined with large shredded metal fragments, rotting lumber and all sorts of random trash. > Upon reaching the end of the path a large open area presents itself > The earth here is flat, dappled with small fires scattered along the dirt floor. > Other, more powerful sources of light are the large neon signs and the giant circular opening high above. > The market is completely surrounded by industrial waste > The trash looks almost assembled. > Forming a large dome of stainless steel, arranged chaotically. > Spears of metal protrude randomly along its walls which run fifty feet high. > The dome culminates in an oculus high above, where the sun shines only mildly upon the market. > I drove through a crowd of well dressed degenerates towards the far end of the dome, passing animated neon signs advertising various services and wares. > Before > Bars with interior designs similar to a wine and cider establishments selling drugs of both the plant and synthetic variety > Potion dealers pedaling dark magics > A crystal pony weapons dealer with a large glowing pink sign shaped like a heart above her shop sells Crystal Empire weaponry. > She even sells the “A-Cadance-47” > A new type of ballistic weapon called a “gun” > Designed in the Crystal Empire, the A-Cadance-47 is the standard weapon fitted to all officers of the Pink Army operating within the borders of the Crystal Empire. > Celestia has banned the use of the A-Cadnce-47 in Equestria proper because of their potential for disrupting the peace of Equestria. > But though they are banned, they are popular among mares with anti-Celestia sentiments who can afford the 1500 Bits to purchase them. > As I near the Milk Bar, I pass an establishment called the “Smoke Shop” > Previously, the Pink Pony Strip Club before the spa sisters integrated their prostitution ring into the Milk Bar and saw the strip club as a threat to their business. > This all happened after they “fired” Milky and voting me out of my position as co-manager of the Milk Bar. > The Milk Bar is by the most popular shop in the market > This is overwhelmingly due to Muffins milk, which has electrified the market into being a tourist spot for sex fiends, addicts, criminals, fetishes and all sorts of degenerates. > The Milk Bar is the only business which operates inside the corpse of a steel tower. > The place is spacious for all sorts of things and easy to keep cool. > Great for milk storage. > After pushing my way to the back of the bar, I park my scooter inside and get dressed > My work attire is a pair of drooping cow ears, cow print socks with matching bra and panties. > Needless to say, I hate my job… > Because similarly to when I work for the mayor, I never know what my duties will be when I start work. > Sometimes I work the bar serving Best Pony for eight hours. > Or I’m stuck cleaning the “love rooms” and entertaining guests with “sexy” conversation. > But the worst days are when one of the working mares call in sick. > Because then I’m stuck giving stallions hoof jobs or letting them “hotdog” their penises between my teats until completeion. > The Milk Bar wasn’t always like this > Our clientele was small, and everypony shared the same fetish. > Milky and I would serve ponies or milk, I would occasionally engage in a soft sub/dom dynamic with Milky and the other clients. > I loved working at the Milk Bar > But sadly, what was once a job I did for pleasure I now do out of obligation. > I looked at my schedule along the backroom wall > It read: > “Fluttershy: Bartending” > A exhaled, then grabbed the two barrels of Best Pony > Once I was behind the bar, I connected the barrels into the bar taps then stood near the counter. > It may get boring, but it’s better than cleaning love rooms, or being a sex object. > “Glad you finally made it!” > I jumped then swung my head to my left. > I don’t know how I hadn’t noticed her before, but Rainy Days was standing right beside me! > She had her nipple dippied inside a plastic bottle sitting along the bar. And with her hooves she incited milk flow through rough intermittent squeezing. “Rainy! You near gave me a heart attack!” > “Sorry Fluttershy!” She laughed “It’s fine…” > My eyes fell onto her for a long moment. > She was deep into her work and I was falling hypnotized. > The sound of the highly pressurized milk slamming against the walls of the bottle. > Her skin warping around her hooves > The way the milk dripped after each spray… > When the bottle was full she sealed the top with a flimsy plastic cap and placed the bottle in the refrigerator behind the bar. > She then grabbed another empty bottle and repeated the process. > I watched this process in silence > After her fourth bottle, my curiosity was getting the best of me. > And I shook myself from my erotic trance. > I shook the sensation from my head and craned my neck near her cheek “What are you doing?” > “Lotus said she came up with a new idea the other day. Apparently we're selling milkshakes now “ “I see.” I replied, gritting my teeth > “Yep! Ponies can buy seven hundred and fifty milliliter bottles of milk from any mare at the milk bar they choose. Lotus says it's a convenient and portable way to enjoy milk when not at the bar. Just keep them refrigerated! And when you’re ready to drink, just give the bottle a little shake!” She laughed “Let me see that bottle.” I asked, snatching it from her hooves. > Her teat started to drip onto the floor “Fluttershy! You know once how hard it is for me to produce…” She whined > I raised the bottle close to my face > The front label read in large bubble letters “Milk for Rainy Dayz.” > I returned Rainy her bottle and she quickly plugged the neck her nipple. > It’s appalling how sloppy the spa sisters are getting. > Marketing is one thing, but laminating the names of Ponies in our highly illegal products is plain irresponsible. > Rainy Days and the other mares who work here aren’t Muffins. > Muffins doesn’t exist on paper. > Especially after the mayor wiped her entire record. > Heck! > You could argue that Muffins doesn’t even have a name, since most ponies either call her “Derpy” or refer to her as the mysterious “Best Pony” > It's lucky for the spa sisters that the mares who work here are either too young, ignorant or milk addicted to realize how dangerous it is to have your name on a highly illegal product. > “Aloe says my milk tastes like cinnamon.” Rainy said proudly. “Sorry?” > “Aloe! She said my milk tastes good!” “Oh…Thats…That’s very nice…” > “I think Aloe likes me! We’ve been spending lots of time together!” > I rolled my eyes and bit my bottom lip “How much do you make off these milkshakes?” I asked > “The spa sisters make most of the profit. But I get a twenty five cent kickback for every bottle I sell.” “And how much do they charge per bottle?” > “Seven bits.” She beamed > I raised an eyebrow > Rainy, in a rare instance of sober thinking. Looked down her teats for a long painful moment > “I think I'm getting ripped off.” She said matter of factly “I think you are as well.” I nodded > Her eyes lidded and she thought for a long moment. > Her squeezing slowed and I could see her working through the problem in her head. > Eventually, I grew tired of watching her struggle to produce milk and leaned my head over my hoof along the bar and stared out at the crowd of ponies high out of their minds on my marefreinds milk. > It’s sad to say. But the more I work with Rainy, the less I enjoy her company. > I met her a long time ago now. > She was the second mare I had hired to work at Derpy Deliveries. > Before her, I had already hired Appointment Rounds, whos experience and knowledge in the mail delivery service industry proves greater than even “Ponyville's best mailmare” > An unofficial title I’ve only heard spoken by “Ponyville's best mailmare” herself. > Rainy was hired more so because I believed that she and Muffins would get along. > The two are very similar, and Rainy Days possesses a number of unfortunate qualities which remind me of Muffins. > She’s hopelessly naive. > Her mind is simple. > And her attitude isn't far from your typical junior flight school student. > Despite being far beyond the age of one. > She also rambles > A lot. > Occasionally about her fascist parents, often about drinking, and frequently about boys. > I’ve never listened intently enough to determine whether she prefers drinking over rutting or rutting over drinking. > I would assume she would prefer drinking over rutting, considering she ruts for a living now. > I believe that Rainy ruts to make bits for the purpose of purchasing drinks, so she can rut her friends recreationally. > Drinking, in Rainys case encompasses both Best Pony and alcohol. > She consumes a healthy amount of both daily, though she isn't what one would define as a calf. > At least not yet… > Similar to Muffins, Rainy also lacks basic critical thinking skills or the physical dexterity of the Average pegasi. > I would know. > Again, because I hired her. > Rainy makes up for her thinking deficiency with her warm personality. >There's a reason she's become one of the spa sisters top earners in such a short amount of time. > Bubbling with optimism, and never taking things too personally. > Rainy Days is what Muffins would be if Muffins wasn't crippled by uncertainty and neuroticism. > For these reasons I believed the two would bond. > They are mentally consistent. > “Do you wanna help me fill these?” Rainy asked, shaking an empty bottle of “For Rainy Dayz” in my face “Wouldn’t that affect the taste?” > “Nah! The only ponies who buy these things are calfs who can't afford the Best Pony stuff.” > She ripped off the bottle's cap, and blew into the hollow plastic container. “Ok, fine” I nodded > Rainy smiled wider than usual (which is usually quite wide) and slipped my bra off my left teat. > She then began massaging my nipple to stimulate milk flow. > “Do you ever wonder who the best pony is?” She asked dreamily “No.” I blurted > Rainy Days hooves fell to a dead stop > Her mouth rounded and she looked up at me with pronounced disbelief “I mean…Sometimes?” I replied “Who doesn't!” I fained a fond expression, and fanned my face with my hoof for maximum effect. > She watched my intently for a few seconds before returning to rolling her hooves about my areola and nipple in a mechanical fashion. > “I bet that Best Pony is one of the coolest mares in all of Equestria.” > Her tone was childlike and whimsical “Oh, please.” I mumbled. > “You don't think?” “Best Pony isn't a mare to be looked up too. Trust me.” > “Why not?” “Because….Well….Well you know how sometimes you think somepony is great? But then you get to know them and it turns out they aren't that great at all?” I explained > “Kind of?” “Thats Best Pony. She seems nice, and fun, and like a mare who you could grow old with. A mare who you can cuddle all day when you're sad …And make you feel warm inside. And for the first little while you do. And it's heaven. But then something happens. And things change. You don't know if it's you or her but you can't stand the sight of her. And you keep giving the better parts of yourself to her until there's nothing left to give. You become codependent. You live in a shadow. You live in HER shadow. And it's a cold lonely place where nothing good can grow. And that warmth you once felt…That feeling only Best Pony can give you is replaced by an endless pit. Best Po y isn't a good mare friend. She isn't even developed enough to be a full pony. I live in the shadow of a mare who is herself a shadow.” > Rainys hooves had stopped completely now > “Wait…You know Best Pony?” “And everypony laughs at you for dating her….But you keep your head up. Because you know “Best Pony” wouldn't last a week without you.” I chuckled > “I’m so confused!” Rainy whined, pressing her hooves between her head > I exhaled and tried to find a happier place “I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind right now.” > “And that's perfectly fine! Do you want to talk about it?” “I think I just did.” I sighed > “Well…I’ve drank lots of Best Pony, and I’ve NEVER felt like that before. Maybe you’re allergic?” “Maybe.” I laughed, wiping my eye > “Do you like to drink?” “Not really. I really shouldn’t be drinking with my pills.” > “No problem! I’ll drink then!” “What do you…?” > Without warning, Rainy Days plopped my nipple in her mouth and began to suck really hard. “Oh! You mean THAT kind of drink!” > Though I was initially stunned. > The shock of Rainys sudden sexual harassment was quickly nullified, and the soothing sensation of warmth and sexual stimulation began to sprint through my body, replacing all anxiety with relaxation. > Before Lotus plotted my daily intake of teat enhancement medication, I had difficulty producing. > They would build quickly, often becoming firm. > The tightness of my teats made them heavy and sore. > But now, my teats have grown so sensitive, that even an innocuous gentle brush, or slight constriction can induce milkflow. > I hate how I can no longer control the sensation > It makes me feel weak > When ponies so casually use me as an object, as they often do. > I can’t help but feel small and vulnerable. > The worst of it is that I am aware of my objectification and invite it through my silent complacence. > I am of the ubersub of Pegasi. > Therefore, I find the idea of being nothing more than what my body can provide to others to be incredibly erotic. > With my teat in her mouth, Rainy slowly began cocking her head backward and forth. > Using her cheek and jaw muscles to keep my nipple gripped tight between her lips. > I placed my hoof delicately over her head “You’re really good at this.” > She spat out my teat > Milk wrapped around her lips > “Thanks! Aloe has me do this all the time for her!” “Do you like being used like that?” I moaned > “I mean…She pays me. So it isn’t that bad.” “You know, some mares like that kinda thing.” > “I get the feeling you’re one of those mares.” She chuckled “Here, I’m just a milkmare. You can do as you please.” > Now with permission, Rainy began to show her true colors > She grabbed my teat and twisted it counterclockwise and held it in this contorted position > I closed my mouth along my bottom lip “That really feels….Nice.” I gasped > Rainy released my nipple and laughed “You’re really messed up, Fluttershy!” > I nodded in feverish agreement > She then plopped my teat back into her mouth and continued to suck, now with intermittent nippling > I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation > Rainy return to the tight lipped, head bobbing technique > The way she integrated her entire body into method, and the energy she was clearly exerting made the sensation sickly satisfying. > My hooves curled inwards “Please keep going! Please Keep going!” I squeaked “Make me your milk mare!” > Finally, once Rainy reached maximum extension and could no longer grasp my teat. > She released it. > The teat snapped back into its home between my legs. > The sound elicited when my teat exited her mouth carried such force it produced a loud “POP!” > The milk started to run free from my body onto the floor in a thick stream. “I haven’t felt like that in a long time.” I gasped > “I can tell! You’re super pent up.” Rainy replied, wiping her mouth “You’re very good at that. If I had known you were so lively. I would have hired you to work with me at the cottage, instead of delivering mail.” > “It’s no problem!” She shrugged “I’m honestly happy for the opportunity. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here right now! I would be stuck in some boring college class, or working some retail job.” Rainys face scrunched in disgust. She stuck out her tongue and pointed to it “But here…I can get wasted everyday and have sex with SO many different ponies! It really is an amazing job!” > Rainy is abjectly helpless. > Young > Naive > Simple minded > Poor > She’s kinda cute… “Rainy, are…Seeing anypony right now?” > “I’m always seeing lots of ponies!” “And you think that's appropriate?” > “It’s definitely not normal…But neither is my profession. I make my money through my looks and milk. I’ve never been a smart mare…And I don’t have any talents. My cutie mark is a storm cloud, what can a mare possibly do with a butt stamp that vague?” > Rainy popped open another empty bottle and began to fill it. > I stood over her, watching the young mare massage her mammaries > The thought of a friendless mare selling herself to get by, and so happily accepting the unfortunate circumstances of her life is painful to me. > I care too much… “Rainy, I think you should consider other job options. Because this one isn’t exactly the most stable.” > “Now you sound like my parents.” She grumbled, slapping her hooves along her teats “Your parents are right! And you should listen to them. They care about you….I care about you.” > “If they cared about me they wouldn’t have kicked me out.” > I thought for a moment “Rainy, where do you live?” > “I used to live with Appointed Rounds, but she kicked me out. Now I’m sharing a room with a rich couple. They’re regulars at the Milk Bar.” “And you don’t mind?” > “I don’t have to do chores, I sleep in all day. all I gotta do is spread my legs every once and a while. It’s no different than how I passed flight school.” “Rainy…If I could I would help you…You’re a very attractive mare and…I think…I think I would like to…” > She looked up at me and stared > “You okay, Fluttershy?” > I hunched into her ear and whispered “Kiss me.” > “Are you sure? I’m pretty sure I remember you saying you were dating somepony….Mufflers? Muttons? I don't want to get involved in another kinky love triangle.” “Trust me. My marefriend isn’t above kissing other mares when I’m not looking.” > “Oh…Okay….I usually charge ponies for that kinda stuff. But since you’re my friend…” > She closed her eyes and puckered her lips > I did the same > I leaned forward until our lips touched > Once our lips were locked I grabbed draped my hooves around her neck and shoulders > I prodded my tongue into her cheek and drove it along her gums > Once we finished kissing, I pulled away and opened my eyes > Our faces parallel > Snouts five short inches away > Rainy wore a neutral expression “I really liked that.” > Rainy placed her hooves on my shoulders > “That’ll be three bits, next time.” She said blankly > She patted me along the back and returned to her work “Did I do something wrong? I’m…I’m…” > “No…Not necessarily.” “I feel like I might have upset you.” > “Milk mares!” A voice shouted from the crowd beyond the bar, causing me to jump. > I swung my head to the left and saw Lotus sitting at the far end of the bar impatiently rapping her hoof over the counter > I looked down at Rainy, then to lotus then back to Rainy before finally rushing towards Lotus. “Hi, Lotus! What would you like?” > Beneath her unkempt mane, Lotus’ bloodshot, baggy eyes stared me down. > Her right hoof rested over her naked distended tummy. > Lotus and Aloe had both become sickly looking creatures. > Lotus’ vibrant blue coat had paled into a sour purple. > Her gut squished against the counter. “Lotus?” > “You’re tit is hanging out.” Her voice was monotonous. > I looked below my barrel and saw my tit was still uncupped and leaking milk. > I reached around myself and began to stuff it back into my bra. “Oh, sorry! I’ll just tuck it back…” > “Don’t bother.” She interrupted, “Just listen.” “Oh…Okay.” > I dropped my teat back onto the floor > “We have a problem.” “I see…” I pretended to ponder > “First. Get me a drink of your marefriends milk.” She ordered with a flick of the hoof. “Of course.” I grumbled > I grabbed a cup from the counter and went to the taps, dragging my teat along the floor the entire time. > “Have you solved your issue, by the way?” “No…I’m still not…” > “That's too bad. Nice fat tits like yours and they don’t produce anything of worth? It’s a shame.” > I pulled the tap and watched the Best Pony flow into the mug > “I guess the pills are working.” She said, scanning my body “Your tits are definitely fatter. And are leaking more than usual. If only we could find a way to make it not taste like soiled seafood.” “I’m sure you'll find something to put me on to fix that.” I muttered to myself > When the cup was full I released the tap and returned to Lotus. > I slammed the drink on the counter in front of her “Is that how you treat ALL our customers?” She giggled > She grabbed the cup, took a large chug then placed it back on the counter > “Don’t make me put you on cleaning duty.” She threatened > My teat began to gush more milk > Lotus rolled her eyes and took another long drink “Umm…I hear that Aloe and Rainy Days are getting along well.” I said in a colorless tone > “And I suppose you find that funny?” “Not at all! I fully support Aloe and Rainy Days' relationship. Maybe Muffin, Rainy, Aloe and I could have a double date.” I said sarcastically “I’m sure we would all get along great, considering we’re all cheating on eachother! And I can tell Aloe the ins and outs of dating a mare with learning disorders.” > “They are not dating. My sister and I are just…Spending a little time apart right now.” Lotus looked to the floor and scratched her left ear “Trouble in paradise?” I teased > “It’s none of your concern.” “Perhaps Aloe is already familiar with learning disabilities? They are quite common where you’re from, considering all the incest.” > Lotus stared at me with growing impatience “Heck! The way Aloe behaves, she definitely has some kind of mental issue. The violence, the antisocial behavior, the….” > Lotus smack me across the face > “Shut up! You are to respect us as your superiors!” > I wiped my cheek where she slapped me > My marebits grew warmer “It’s kind of hard to respect either of you after this past week. Your sister has gotten so out of control the mayor is sending me to do her jobs. Also, I heard that you spent twenty thousand bits on a Manehatten dinner party! What happened to being discreet with our money!?” > Lotus grabbed me by the ear and pulled me towards her “You need to shut up. You think you can just yell that kind of thing?” She whispered “Sorry, I…” > “And for your information. Yes, I threw a party. But most of the money spent was on Best Pony products.” “I don't even want to get into your addictions.” I groaned > Lotus twisted my ear, causing my back left leg to snap along the floor > The milk was flowing faster now > “Please, spare me.” She grumbled “You’ve been popping pills so much you don't even know what's going on half the time. Always zoning out and jumping between moods.” “The pills I take are medicine. They keep me calm.” > “Calm.” She chuckled, “You’re so calm you can't even control your lactation rate anymore.” > Lotus and I turned to my teat > “What happened to your Pegasus pride? You’ve always been a push over, but at least you were a self respecting one.” > She twisted my harder “You know….I don't come to find you’re putting ponies names on labels!” I > Lotus observed me with a business like expression > She observed my teats and my face > Finally, she let me go > “You’re becoming a sick mare, Fluttershy. Where’s your self respect?” “I…” > “I saw you making out with Rainy > “Yes, the label idea was probably a bad idea. My sister and I came up with the idea after a sleepless two day binge of “Best Pony.” She laughed. “But, we already paid for the custom bottles, so I thought we might as well use them.” > I stared at her blankly “Can I be honest?” > “If it isn’t about my sister or our culture. Sure, why not?” She replied, chugging from her cup “From where I’m sitting, everypony is doing their job discreetly, except you two. You need to figure out how to control yourself, because if the CIA starts looking into this, we’re all going to jail for a very long time.” > Lotus yawned and stretched her legs > “Listen. I didn't push through a crowd perverted ponies for you to grace me with the death throes of your fizzling morality. I have a job for you.” “Of course.” > “Before I arrived, Aloe and I had just finished speaking.” “Okay.” I nodded > “She’s just returned from Strawberries house to collect on a debt, but it’s come to our attention that Strawberry will be unable to pay.” “Why not?” > “Because….Well, because she's dead.” “What!? How did this happen?” > “Not sure. Aloe suspects she overdosed on Muffins milk. But I don't find that likely. I think…I think Aloe might have done her in. You know how she’s been getting carried away, recently.”She chuckled “What do you want me to do about it?” > “I was thinking that you could go over and deal with it.” “What do you mean by “deal with it?” > “We can’t just leave the body at the house! Go bury it somewhere!” “Me!? Bury a…” > I hushed down to a whisper “I can't bury a body!” > “Sure you can!” She said tapping her hoof along my back > Lotus then reached into her saddlebag and dropped a stack of folded clothes in an air sealed bag in the bar “Lotus, please! I don’t think I can do this!” > Lotus drank the rest of the milk and began to smile “Look, I would love to chat! But I need to run.” > “Where are going, now!?” I cried > “The mayor and I have some business to attend to so I need this done asap. You know that “waste of money party in Manhattan?” Well we may have just struck a deal with a bar in the big city looking to buy Best Pony, in bulk, for double the price.” “Aloe! You can't do that! You know Muffins hasn't been producing like usual!” > “Well, you’ll just have to fix that. That's kinda why we keep you around.” She snapped “But…But…You see….Muffins and I having a bit of trouble getting intimate.” > Lotus crossed her hooves > “I assume this will affect the prospect of a higher milk quota?” “Yes! Muffins CAN produce a seemingly infinite amount of milk. But her production rate appears to be based on stimulation and I….I can’t find a way to get her going like I used to. We’ve grown unattracted for various reasons.” > Lotus leaned into me then planted her lips on my mouth, I got a strong taste of Muffins milk in her spit > She then pulled away and stared at me > “If YOU can't get her going. I’ll happily take her off your hooves.” She threatened “This deal is our first step into the Manehatten market. Don’t mess this up.” “I know, but it’s just so much pressure…I don’t….” > “Don’t you have a body to bury?” > I felt my heart start to break. “Lotus…What are we becoming? Is all this trouble really worth it?” > “Do you know how much you can buy with a million bits?” “No…I don’t spend our money like that.” > You can spend your share how you like. But I’m far above living like a pig. Fluttershy, when you’re eating at the fanciest restaurants, drinking the finest wines and bedding ponies with four digit price tags. You realize something.” “Whats that?” > “Money can absolutely buy happiness.” “Lotus…With all due respect. I have five hundred thousand Bits hidden away and I feel the worst I’ve ever felt in every possible way. I’ve done everything I thought would make me happy…But I’m miserable.” > Lots nodded > She almost looked concerned > She exhaled > “Fluttershy, when you’re finished burying the body…Would you like me to get you a love mare?” “No. I don’t agree with slavery.” > “Is there anything I could do to make you happier?” > I looked over across the bar at Rainy “I want you to give that mare a home. Somewhere safe.” > “Do you always have to be so difficult?” She sighed “Lotus, please.” > Lotus stared at Rainy for a very long time until finally, she turned back to me > “Fine. I give her a place to stay.” “Somewhere safe.” I stressed > “Yes, somewhere safe.” She sighed “Thank you. Thank you very much.” > “Yeah, whatever.” > Lotus chugged the rest of her drink then slammed it on the table > “Now, don’t you have a body to attend to.” “Okay, Lotus. Whatever you say.” I sighed