Milk-A-Mare

Still chewing the last bite of muffin, you stare up at the building before you.

Realizing that you didn’t have the material you needed in order to get your rented house into livable conditions, you had grabbed your bitbag and wandered into Ponyville in search of supplies.

Unlike earlier, the town was now alive with activity. There were more ponies out and about than when you had first walked through town, and all of them were going about their day with smiles on their faces and a spring in their step. Definitely a change in pace over Canterlot, where everyone had a sneer or a look of disdain.

The smiles had disappeared when you had entered town however, replaced instead by looks of shock and surprise. A few smiles remained though, mostly those who had seen you walking through town earlier. You had been nervous at first, until you had realized that none of the ponies looked angry or upset. All-in-all, they seemed to be more curious than anything else. Within a few minutes, the smiles had returned, and the ponies of Ponyville seemed to welcome you as one of their own.

Eeyup, definitely an improvement over Canterlot.

Anyway, all of that had lead up to where you were now.

“‘Berry Punch’s “Once Upon a Bottle” Liquor Store’?” you say, cocking your head to the side as you stared up at the sign. It stuck out perpendicular from the building, hanging over a large bay window in which several bottles were on display, placed within large buckets of ice. An empty wine barrel hung beneath the sign by two iron clasps.

Swallowing the remaining muffin in your mouth, you run your tongue over your teeth before approaching the door.

A bell chimes somewhere in the store as you enter. The store is dimly lit, a twilight-like ambiance settling over the room. The air is noticeably cooler than outside, and you swear that you can almost see your breath.

The room itself is rather bare. A large shag rug lay splayed out across the cobblestone floor was the only real thing in the room. A large stone fireplace and hearth rest along one of the walls, several different colored bottles hanging from the mantle. A counter is located near the back of the room, several large wine racks positioned behind it. There is a door on the wall adjacent to the counter, leading deeper into the store.

As you move further into the room, a voice calls out from the side door, “Just a minute!” A few seconds later, a mulberry earth pony trotted out behind the counter.

“Welcome to Berry Punch’s “Once Upon a Bottle” Liquor Store!” she chirped, a large smile on her face. “How may I help—” Upon seeing you, she freezes, a look of alarm crossing across her face for a brief moment before passing.

“Woah,” she breaths, staring up at you with wide-eyes. “You aren’t a pony.”

“I’m not?” you ask, glancing down at yourself. You pause, scrunching up your face before looking back up at her. “I mean, I’m not.”

“Let’s see,” the mare says. She walks out from behind the counter and begins to circle you. “Bipedal, hands, haven’t seen you around town.” She moves to stand in front of you, a small smirk now adorning her face. “You must be the creature that milked Ditzy dry, yes?”

“Maybe,” you say, eyeing the mare cautiously. “It depends on if that’s good or bad?”

“‘Good or bad’?” the mare repeats, looking at you like you were crazy. “Do you know how hard it is to find a good milker? Almost all of them do pisspoor jobs, and even Milky couldn’t get all the milk. You, however, some how milked Ditzy drier than a bone! Do you know how many mares would pay a lot of bits for that?!”

You are suddenly aware of the very large and very heavy bitbag resting in your vest pocket. “I might…”

“Anyways, I’m rambling,” the mare says as she moves back around the counter. “Welcome to Berry Punch’s “Once Upon a Bottle” Liquor Store. I’m Berry Punch. How may I help you?”

“I need some bottles,” you say, moving towards the counter as well.

Berry’s eyes lit up.

“Well, what kind of bottles are you looking for?” she asks. She motions behind her at the wine racks. “We’ve got summer wines, dark wines, hard liquor, beer, pony tequila, donkey tequila—” her eyebrows wiggle up and down “—griffon rum, hay whiskey, corn whiskey, moonshine, vodka, or gin. We also sell mixers!” She gives you a big smile, cocking her head to the side.

You rub the back of your head and laugh weakly. “Yeah… I meant I actually need empty bottles.”

The smile vanishes from Berry’s face, and she blinks up at you. “Empty bottles?”

“Empty bottles,” you say, nodding your head. “You know, to put liquid in.”

“What kind of liquid are we talking about?” she asks, her brow furrowing as she gives you an uncertain look.

Still rubbing the back of your neck, you mumble under your breath as you feel your face heat up.

“I’m sorry?” Berry says, ears perking up.

“Milk,” you grunt, not looking at her.

Berry stares blankly up at you before a lecherous smile spreads across her face.

“Milk, you say?” she asks, giving you a knowing look. “Now, this wouldn’t happen to be happy-go-lucky-mailmare milk, would it?”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Do you sell bottles here or not?”

Berry eyes you closely, rubbing her chin with a hoof. After a few seconds, she nods her head.

“I’ll tell you what,” she says, slowly walking out from behind the counter again, “I do have empty bottles here and I’m willing to sell them to you for half price, but you have to do something for me as well.”

“I’m listening,” you say, tapping the tips of your fingers together.

“Free milking sessions,” Berry says before turning and presenting her flank to you. She flicks her tail to the side, revealing her breasts, which were swollen. They weren’t the fullest you’ve seen, but they definitely didn’t look comfortable.

“Milk me for free whenever I get full and I’ll give you the bottle half off,” Berry says, glancing over her shoulder at you as she wiggles her hips. This causes her breasts to sway back and forth.

You can’t help but stare at them as you quickly run through the calculations in your head. You are charging fifty-five bits per milking mostly to repair your machine. However, now that you are here in Ponyville, away from the batponies, your machine probably won’t go through so much wear and tear. You have a lot of bits saved up. If you milked her for free, you wouldn’t… nine plus twelve carry the two, times ten percent added to initial sum…

You smile to yourself as you finish the math in your head. You wouldn’t lose money unless this mare needed to be milked twice a day. Even the most productive batpony could go three days before needing to be milked again.

This was actually a gain for you.

“Deal,” you say, causing Berry’s smile to widen.

“Excellent!” she chirps. “Now, get milking!”

Normally you’d say something about needing your machine, but you were pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to drag it all the way into town just yet, as the wheels still needed to be fixed, and Berry probably didn’t want to close down her store for the day to go back to your ramshackle, dust-covered house.

Looks like you were doing this the old fashioned way.

“Got a bucket?” you ask the presenting mare. Keeping her flank pointed at you, she points over to the corner where an empty metal bucket sat. You walk over and retrieve the bucket before returning to your original spot. Sitting down behind Berry, you give one of her breasts an experimental poke. A bead of milk drips from her nipple and falls to the shag carpet below.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Berry asks, glancing down between her legs.

“Nothing,” you say as you place the bucket beneath her. You breath on your hands to warm the up before reaching out and gently grasping her breasts.

She flinches slightly as your hands wrap around her breasts, only for a shiver to run down her spine a few seconds later.

You give the right teat a slow tug and are immediately rewarded as milk begins to flow, falling to the bucket below with a loud splatter. Berry’s back arches and she coos happily as you tug on the other breast with the same results.

You quickly get a rhythm going: pinch-tuuuuuug-splatter. Pinch-tuuuuuug-splatter. Whichever teat you aren’t pulling on at the time, the breast gets gently massaged by your fingers.

Berry stands there, spread legged over the bucket, groaning happily as more and more milk flows from her breast and splatters in the pail below. The sound of her pleasure mixes with the sound of splashing milk as you continue to work.

It isn’t long before the smell of arousal fills the air. Glancing up, you see that her marehood has become inflamed and wet, her clit winking ever so often. Her lips are a slightly darker shade of mulberry than her coat, and gradually turn into a deep wine red deeper in. Her inner walls flex in time with your tugs on her teats.

You watch at her marehood as you continue to work, Lil’ Anon slowly waking up in your pants. The smell only grows stronger as her breasts slowly begin to shrink. You stare at her glistening folds for a few more seconds before slowly leaning in and taking a cautious lick.

Berry yelps, her hips bucking before she swats you in the face with her tail.

“Hey now,” she says, glancing at you from over her shoulder, “none of that. Let’s keep this professional, shall we? Besides, I’m already in a herd, honey.”

Well, this is unexpected, you think to yourself. Usually when you were milking a mare, she wanted a little something extra on the side. Gleaming had gotten to the point where she wouldn’t leave unless she got a good rutting with her milking.

Not that you are complaining. It is a nice change of pace, even though you’ll have to take care of Lil’ Anon later.

As you continue milking, Berry lowers herself down and rests her head on her forelegs, keeping her hind legs straight and rigid.

“Aaah, I needed this,” she sighs happily. “You're definitely better than Milky. I can see why Ditzy was singing your praises.”

“At Anon’s Milk-a-Mare, we aim to please,” you say with a smirk, pulling on both teats at the same time. This earns a deep groan from Berry that gradually turns into a moan. Her breasts are nearing empty, and you gently massage the fatty tissue, trying to coax the last few squirts of milk from its fleshy prison.

“Are we done?” Berry asks, only to yelp as you lean in a place your lips around first one nipple then the other, suckling on them to make sure you got it all.

“Oh sweet Celestia,” Berry groans as you pull away. She stands up and stretches, her tail flicking back and forth happily. “I’ve never felt so empty before,” she purrs.

You sit there, rolling the little bit of milk around your mouth with a confused look on your face. Swallowing, you smack your lips before glancing down at the full bucket before you.

“Oh yeah, definitely worth the deal,” Berry continues, rubbing a hoof across one of her deflated teats. “Ooooh yeah, Berry Punch is berry happy!” A shudder runs through her body, and she gives herself a good shake.

“Alright,” she says, turning her attention back to you, “how many bottles you need?”

“Hmmm?” you hum, pulling your gaze from the bucket. “What? Oh, sorry. Um… how many come in a case?”

“Twenty-four,” Berry says, sitting down on the other side of the pail.

Scratching you head absentmindedly, you think about it for a few seconds.

“Um… how abooooouuut… eight cases to start with,” you say, returning your gaze back to the bucket.

“Okay, that’ll come to about twenty bits with your discount,” Berry says. Silence falls as she glances curiously between you and the bucket. “Um, what are you doing?”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you reach down and dip a finger into the milk. Putting the milk-covered finger into your mouth, you slowly pull it out. Your confusion grows.

“It’s not bad, is it?” Berry asks, glancing down at the milk with a worried look on her face. “Bad tasting milk could be a sign of infection…” She trails off as you reach into your inner coat pocket and pull out a shot glass.

“Why are you carrying that around with you?” Berry asks.

“Reasons,” you reply, drawing the word out. You reach down and dip the glass into the milk before lifting it to your eyes. Studying it closely, you hold it in front of your nose and give it a tentative sniff. Your eyes widen.

“It can’t be,” you breathe.

“What? What is it?” Berry asks nervously, her ears folding against her head.

You continue to stare at the glass of milk in front of you, a stunned look on your face. Slowly reaching back into your inner jacket pocket, you pull out your trusty Zippo lighter—one of the few things you had on you when you first arrived in Equestria. Flipping the top off, you flick the flint wheel, lighting it.

Holding your breath, you slowly lower the flame to the surface of the milk. Immediately, it bursts into flames. You and Berry stare at the burning shot glass of milk in your hands, both of you wide-eyed.

“Woah,” Berry breathes.

Watching the flames lick at the surface of the milk, an idea slowly begins to form in your head. Your gaze slowly drifts over to the stunned pony in front of you.

“Ms. Punch,” you say slowly, a smirk touching your lips, “have I got a business proposition for you.”