Milk-A-Mare

by MadMaxtheBlack

Rating: mature
Tags: Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, Human, Princess Luna, Anon, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Second Person, Comedy, Romance, Sex
Length: 14916

Welcome to Anon's Milk-A-Mare, where good drinks are made!

The mares of Equestria have a problem, a problem that apparently only you can help with.

Published 2014-11-07 01:40:08 UTC
Last updated 2015-06-20 17:03:16 UTC

Sucking Up the Sun

Your mouth is agape as you stare up at her. Inside your head, your brain is beginning to overheat as it attempted to catch up with what’s going on. It’s a hopeless operation, but one your brain does loyally.

All the guards present have the same stunned expression you do. Like someone had just slapped them with a lead-filled glove. Several of them look close to passing out, their eyes crossing slightly.

Celestia just sits upon her throne, her warm, motherly smile never changing. That just makes the situation even more awkward. She should at least have a blush or something.

Swallowing, you blink before shaking your head, trying to clear the smoke that’s slowly been accumulating within as your brain burns away. You dig a finger into your ear, trying to clean it out. Surely you heard wrong.

Wiping your finger on the helm of your pants, you glance up at her again.

“I… I’m sorry. C-could you repeat that again?” you stutter.

Celestia’s smile doesn’t change. If anything, it grows bigger.

“Certainly, my little human,” she hums. “I have heard through the grapevine of your exploits with my guards, and I was wondering if you might assist me in a similar manner. I’ve heard good things, especially from Ms. Gleaming Shield.” Her eye glimmers with mirth. “I figured with your… expertise, you might be able to help me with my little… issue.” She says that last word with a light giggle.

“That’s what I thought you said,” you say, your face completely blank. You’re not one-hundred percent sure, but it appears the guard beside the Princess is having a stroke. Celestia doesn’t seem to notice though. She just keeps looking at you expectantly.

Taking a deep breath, you bring a hand up and rub your temple, trying to brain. It was one thing to help the guards with their problem. You usually just got the job done and got out of there before any of them could get too frisky. As of right now, Gleaming’s the only one who you’ve actually done stuff with, and that was only because she was your only close friend.

Milking your friend was one thing. However, this was Celestia. Goddess of the Sun, Princess of Day, Co-ruler of Equestria. She was supposedly a deity, pure and untainted, standing upon a pedestal of virginal virtue. She was the All Mother, the Law, the Hope of the Free World…

...and here she was, asking you to suck all the milk out of her swollen teats.

Mind reeling, you try and compose yourself as best you could. Smoothing out the wrinkles of your suit, you clear your throat and try to look professional.

“You, uh... do realize I charge per milking session?” you ask the Avatar of the Sun with as straight a face as possible. Stone face, Anon. Stone face. Show no weakness.

“Of course,” Celestia says with a small nod. “I would never think of denying you your pay. I believe the going rate is thirty-five bits per mare, correct?”

“Actually,” you correct with a wince, “it’s currently sixty-five bits a session.” You had to bump up the price recently, all because some of those blasted batponies kept coming back for seconds even though they didn’t have any milk. The vacuum would overheat, and repairs are expensive.

And awkward.

“Sixty-five? Goodness me. Could we perhaps negotiate a lower price?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. Her smile never falters though. “Maybe, say… fifty bits? For royalty that is.”

Dear god, you were haggling with the Princess over the amount of bits she was going to pay you to play with her breasts. You were either the luckiest bastard alive, or ol’ Moonbutt was getting a boot up the ass for this tease of a dream.

Trying to keep your face emotionless, you counter, “Fifty-five bits.”

Celestia remains firm. “Fifty bits.” She pauses before giving you a curious look. “If I might ask, Anon, you live in the palace and the crown pays for your necessities. What could you possibly need the bits for?”

“Repairs,” you reply bluntly. “The batponies wear the machine down to the point where I have to replace parts on a regular basis. It’s expensive, but I luckily get a discount at the local hardware store. I bring them a gallon of milk, they give me the parts half-off. Fifty-five bits is the lowest I’m willing to go.”

Celestia nods thoughtfully and her smile returns.

“Very well, you’ve convinced me,” she hums. “Fifty-five bits it is. I shall pay you once we are finished here. Is that... satisfactory?”

You nod your head in agreement. That was fine with you.

“Splendid!” she chirps. Standing from the throne, she descends the steps of her dais with grace and poise. Her horn glows, and her golden peytral levitates off of her chest. She places it beside the throne, her crown and horseshoes following suit soon afterwards.

She stands before you completely bare. A sight, you can say with certainty, that you’ve never seen before. Same is true for the guards, if the wide-eyed stares are anything to go by.

Ignoring them, Celestia turns her gaze to you and her smile becomes eager. “Shall we get started then?”

You chew your lip and glance around.

“I… don’t think I can work…” you stutter. Lamely, you point around at the guards currently in the room, all whom were now watching intently. It was bad enough when you had mares watching you while they waited in line. You didn’t need stallions observing and getting hard from this. You may make a living milking ponies, but you still had your dignity. Well, most of it… some of it… maybe a little…

...oh, who were you kidding? You milked magical talking ponies for a living. The minute you bought this machine, any dignity you had dried up faster than a mare’s vagina around Blueblood.

Celestia’s horn glows and in a flash of light, you and Celestia become the only creatures in the room. All the guards are gone, and you assumed that the magical glow around the doors meant that they were now locked. You are now alone with Sunbutt, who is steadily inching closer to you. Her eager smile grows with each step.

You tap your fingers together, chuckling weakly.

“I, uh… I also need my machine—” There’s another flash and your milking machine is suddenly sitting beside you, all set and ready to go.

“Anything else?” Celestia asks, although not unkindly. When you shake your head, she actually ‘squees’, tapping her hooves together excitedly. “Shall we get started then? I’m eager to see what this entails.”

Swallowing, you begin to untangle the hoses, which you had wrapped around the machine for storage. Double checking to make sure there are no cracks or kinks in the system, you are pleased to see that the machine is in perfect working order. Just one last thing to test. Flipping on the vacuum pump, you smile as it whirs to life. It appears that the bats have yet to find your new hiding spot.

Picking up the teat cups, you pause and glance over at Celestia. How did she know where…?

As if sensing your accusation, she just gives you a warm smile, tilting her head to the side.

“Is something wrong?” she asks innocently. This mare. You swear she could get away with murder if she wanted to. Come to think of it, she probably has...

“Oh no, nothing at all,” you reply, making a mental note to change your machine’s hiding spot... again. Maybe you could hide it under Moonbutt’s bed this time. No one ever goes into her room.

Bringing the cups up to your lips, you blow on them in attempt try and heat them up. You’ve learned from past experience that ponies don't generally react well when something cold grabbing their nipples.

Once the cups were a decent temperature, you face Celestia and hold them up. She turns quickly and presents her hindquarters to you. Her tail flicks eagerly to the side, allowing you to see what you are doing.

You flick a switch and the machine springs to life with a low hum. Bending down to attach the teat cups to her breasts, you pause and blink in surprise. What the…?

Noticing your hesitation, Celestia glances over her shoulder, a concerned look on her face. “Is something wrong?”

“You have no tits,” you say bluntly, a bemused look on your face. It was true. Her underbelly was completely smooth, running uninterrupted from her barrel all the way up to her marehood. No lumps, no bumps, no breasts. Nothing to hook the pumps onto.

She giggles, raising a hoof to her mouth.

“Whoops! Pardon me, I forgot,” she titters. Her horn glows, and you jump back as the area around her lower stomach begins to shimmer. A soft chiming noise reaches your ears. Your eyes widen as her illusion spell drops, revealing the mother lode of all tits.

“Oh, sweet Saint Brigid of Kildare,” you mutter in awe.

The pure white mounds hang low, nearly reaching the middle of her thighs. They are swollen to the point where they are pushing up against her legs, the pressure causing them to squish together slightly. You could see a vein just beneath the skin pulsing in time with her heartbeat. A drop of milk beads up on the tip of one of the nipples.

If you had to compare them to something, they were closer to cow udders than horses’ teats. How she was walking with them, let alone sitting comfortably, you didn’t know.

“As you can see,” Celestia speaks up, breaking you out of your daze, “they are getting quite out of hand. I would normally take care of them with a spell, but it’s been a busy week and I haven’t had time. I was going to attend to them tonight, but Ms. Shield spoke so highly of you that I decided to give your service a try.”

Damn it, Gleaming, you think to yourself as you stare at the monster tits in front of you. I don’t know whether to kiss you or hit you. Giving praise to your patron saint again, you bring the pumps up towards her teats, only to pause.

Giving her a question look, you ask, “Um… may I?”

“Yes, please,” she says breathlessly.

Taking a deep breath, you proceed to slip the pumps over her dripping nibbles. The cups immediately latch onto the teats, beginning to pull and massage them in an attempt to coax the milk forth. Celestia tenses up, her breath catching in her throat as the pumps begin their work. After a few seconds, milk begins to flow steadily down the clear tubs, heading for the receptacle.

“Oh… oh my,” Celestia breathes. “This certainly is more pleasurable than my spell.” You smirk at that, trying to hold back your laughter.

You haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.

The stream of milk grows, the entire vacuum tube now completely white. Celestia’s legs tremble slightly as her wings flex by her sides. You peek around her glorious flank, noting that her face has become flush. She has a far-off look in her eyes, and one of her back hooves begins to tap against the ground.

You wait, keeping a practiced eye locked on her hindquarters. A month of milking mares has allowed you to turn this almost into a science. You know precisely what needs to happen when in order to get the largest quality of milk for the most pleasure.

When the Princess’s tail begins to flag, you spring into action. Turning a dial on your machine’s control panel, you crank up the suction. The pumps begin to pull harder, tugging on the teats at an increased pace.

This causes Celestia to jump at the sudden increase of simulation. She yelps in surprise, only for it to quickly turn into a moan of pleasure. Her wings unfurl as she slowly becomes more and more aroused. Her marehood is glistening now, and every few seconds she would wink, her pink clitoris poking out of white folds. Dear God...

You take a mental picture of that and quickly file it away for later. After all, you’re probably the only creature alive to have seen the sight that is before you, and you plan on using it later for your… alone time. Lil’ Anon approves of this plan, already straining at your pants.

Still, you wait,watching for the next sign. When her arousal begins to drip down her leg, that’s when you make your final move. Flipping the cover up on a toggle switch, you flick the switch into the ‘on’ position.

Immediately, the mechanisms in the teat cups whir to life, and they begin to vibrate.

Celestia tenses instantly, her eyes widening in shock before they roll back into her head. She moans loudly as a tremor rolls down her back. Her large wings rise to their full height, throbbing with arousal. She shudders once, her marehood winking fervently. This continues for several seconds until her back suddenly arches and she peaks.

Liquid rolls down her vulva as she cums, trailing over his breasts and down her legs. Her hips buck weakly as her folds clench desperately around an imaginary dick.

With her orgasm comes a surge of milk. It floods down the tubes, causing the plastic to bulge. When the milk reaches the receptacle, the top of the container pops off due to the pressure, and excess milk begins to spill out onto the floor in pints.

Your eyes widen in alarm, and you glance back at Celestia’s teats. They still have milk in them, having only shrunken to about three-fourths from their original size. As you watch, her marehood convulses again, causing another surge of milk to rush down the tubes. This in turn causes more of the precious liquid to spurt onto the floor.

There’s nothing you can do but sit back and wait for the flood to end.

It takes almost a minute for the machine to drain the last of the milk from her breasts, all of the excess accumulating on the floor. As Celestia slowly comes down from her orgasm, you switch the machine off. Crouching down, you examine the puddle of milk curiously. Surprisingly, the milk was steaming and upon dragging a finger through it, you discovered that it was warm.

Well, warmer than usual.

From your experience, all mares have a slightly unique tastes, and bringing your milk-soaked finger up to your lips, you suck upon it. The minute the warm liquid touched your lips, your eyes widen. It was some of the sweetest milk you have ever tasted, almost tying with Gleaming’s. There was also a hint of banana to it.

You suck on your finger until a groan caused you to glance around. Celestia was standing there, her wings and head hung low. Her legs were tremble slightly, and she looked ready to collapse. Her breaths were coming in deep gulps, her chest expanding with each intake of air. There was a tired smile on her face, her eyes hooded.

“Oh… my goodness,” she breaths. “That was… wonderful, if somewhat unexpected.” She tries to straighten up, her legs struggling to support her weight. This causes her to laugh weakly. “That… oh goodness. That could easily become addicting. Mercyme. You certainly don’t disappoint, Anon,” she says, looking at you. “You may consider me a loyal customer for the foreseeable future.” She walks shakily over to you and glances down at the puddle of mare dairy. She eyes it curiously before dipping her head down and giving it a tentative lick.

Your eyes widen and your jaw drops. Lil’ Anon, who has been slowly relaxing, suddenly springs back up at attention.

Celestia hums thoughtfully, rolling the taste around her mouth. Her eyes suddenly light up, and she smiles before leaning down and lapping at the puddle like a cat. There goes another mental picture into the filing cabinet for later. Now, if only she’d roll around in it...

Lifting her head, she smacks her lips, licking off the milk that was slowly dripping from her chin.

“I must say, I like the taste,” she says, her motherly tone returning. “I do believe I can work with this. Yes, this will work nicely.” Her horn glows softly, and the cap to the milk receptacle is screwed back on. Lifting the full container of milk into the air, she levitates it beside her as she heads for the door.

“Oh!” She blinks, pausing mid-step. Turning, her horn glows brighter and suddenly a large bag of bits appears in front of you. You quickly scramble to catch it before it lands in the puddle of milk.

Weighing the bags in your hands, you give it a calculating look before glancing up. “Um, there’s more than fifty-five bits in here.”

“Why, yes there is. I doubled your payment,” she calls back over her shoulder as she continues towards the doors. She shoots you a sultry glance as she does so. “Consider it thanks for the... happy ending.” A shiver runs down your back with how she says that. “Now, if you excuse—” she holds up the container of her milk “—I have a cake to commission. That will be all, Anon.” With that she exited the throne room, leaving you to yourself.

As the throne room doors close, you toss the bag of bits into the air, catching deftly in your hands. Chuckling to yourself, you turn to around to wipe down your machine. Celestia has managed to make quite a mess. You stare at it, wondering the best way to start cleaning.

You are just about to start when a faint noise reaches your ears.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

Suddenly, a swarm of batponies descend upon your machine like a plague of locusts, shrieking happily. In a flurry of fur and fangs, they vanish as fast as they appeared, taking your machine with them.

You stare at the spot where it had stood just seconds ago, your mouth hanging open in shock. The bitbag falls from your hands, landing in the milk with splash. Your legs begin to tremble, and you feel light headed.

Falling to your knees, you throw your hands in the air and cry out your pain to the heavens.

“Nooooooooooooooo!”

The Milk in the Moon

You stare at the door in front of you in trepidation, your mouth suddenly dry. Of all the places those blasted batponies could have taken your machine, it had to be here.

The double doors loom in front of you, the darkened oak appearing almost black. A large crescent moon was etched into the wood, glowing a silvery-white. Silver trim ran along the edges of the wood. Fog was slowly seeping through the crack beneath the door, swirling ominously through the air.

Twin unicorn guards stand on either side of the doors, their lavender armor glinting in the torchlight. They stare at you, their golden eyes hard and cold. Despite the fact that their faces were at the same level as your crotch, you still feel small in their presence; their tough demeanor intimidating you.

Of all the places those blasted batponies could have taken your mare-lovin’ machine, it had to be straight to Moonbutt.

Welp, no sense in putting it off any longer. Swallowing thickly, you step forward and bang your fist against the door. For the longest time, nothing happens, and you just stand there, sweating under the guards’ gaze.

You were just about to back out and figure out a different means of getting your machine back when a grinding noise reaches your ears. The doors swings open slowly, revealing a darkened room on the other side.

You glance sideways at one of the guards. He just ignores you, staring stoically ahead, his face blank. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you steel yourself for what needs to be done. Quickly saying a small prayer, you step into the dark depths within.

As soon as you cross the threshold, the doors swing shut behind you, closing with an echoing ‘boom’. The darkness isn’t as bad as it appeared from outside; you can clearly make out the objects in the room with little difficulty. There’s a bookshelf, a dresser, a desk that had several rocks and a map folded into the shape of a hat upon it, several racks of some kind, a telescope, an astral globe, as well as a large, four poster bed. Thick curtains hang in front of the windows, allowing very little light in.

No sign of your machine, though. She must be keeping it hidden somewhere.

Your breath mists in front of you as you look around, and you're pretty sure there is a layer of frost across the floor. Pulling your suit a little tighter around yourself, you creep further into the room.

Moving as silently as possible, you begin to search through Moonbutt’s room. You check in her closet, but find just a pile of discarded clothing, some rope, and something that looks suspiciously like a pony skeleton chained to the back wall. You investigate further, only to stop when you realize that the skeleton’s hips appear to have been pulverized into dust.

Some things are probably best left to the unknown.

Closing the closet door, you turn your attention to her bed instead. You get down on your hands and knees, pulling the dust ruffle up to glance underneath. The only thing you find is several dust bunnies. No sign of your machine anywhere.

Sighing, you drop the ruffle and stand back up. You begin to dust yourself off before pausing, your eyes going wide. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing on end, and the already frosty temperature in the room seems to have dropped several more degrees. One thought slowly drifts to the front of your mind and you were surprised you hadn’t noticed sooner. Where was Moonbutt?

You had knocked on the doors, and they had opened, which means that she had to have been in the room when you arrived. However, she wasn’t present when you had entered. So, where did she—

A burst of air suddenly washes across the back of your neck, causing you to freeze, your body stiffening. You suddenly become aware of a presence standing right behind you, breathing down your back.

Turning slowly, you glance over your shoulder with trepidation.

Luna is standing right behind you, her cyan eyes glowing as they glare at you through the gloom. She isn’t wearing her usual royal attire, which would explain how she was able to sneak up on you. Her mane flows around her head like an interstellar cloud, stars flashing within its depths. While Celestia may be taller than you, Luna is just about the same height. This doesn’t matter though, because she still terrifies you. Seriously, you made one comment on the size of her moon, and she almost tore your head off. If it wasn’t for the fact that Celestia had been present at the time, you probably wouldn’t have survived.

You take a step back, giving Luna a large, strained smile.

“H-hey, Luna,” you say, trying and failing to keep the fear out of your voice.

Luna responds by tilting her head to the side, her glare remaining firm.

“What art thou doing in our room?” she asks, her voice cold.

“Um, well, you see,” you begin lamely, taking another step back. “Your… ah, your batponies kinda… took something that belongs to me and I—”

“Ah, yes,” she cuts you off, her horn lighting up. You flinch back, raising your arms to protect yourself. All that happens though is your machine appears beside her in a flash of magic.

“A very interesting contraption,” she says with a bored tone of voice, levitating the machine in front of her. She eyes it with mild curiosity as it slowly rotates in midair. “There was no such device around before our banishment. Pray tell, what does it do exactly?” While she seemed to remain uninterested, there was something in her tone that caused you to shiver.

“It… um, m-milks things,” you stammer out lamely.

Luna’s eyes narrow, and she snorts. “What kind of things, whelp?”

“M-mares,” you mutter, not meeting Luna’s eyes.

Her gaze softens slightly, but still remains cold. She goes back to examining the machine, her head cocking to the size as she studies the teat cups closely.

“We see,” she says. “Thou use this machine to help mares extract milk from their mammaries, yes? To help reduce size?”

You nodded, swallowing thickly, your throat suddenly very dry.

“Doest thou use this often?” she asks nonchalantly.

“Well, n-not regularly—”

Your machine slams into the ground with a bang, causing you to jump. Luna’s suddenly in your face, her muzzle pressed against your nose. Her pupils are mere pinpricks as she glares at you.

“Do not lie to us,” she snarls, her teeth bared. “We know about your activities with this machine. The mares in the guard dream of it on a regular basis, and we hath heard the rumors traveling throughout our castle.

“We are also aware of what thou did to our sister this morning,” she growls. Her nostrils flare, snorting hot air into your face. “Thou helped to relieve her burden, and we have seen how happy she was afterwards. Thou will now show us the same!”

You blink, leaning back to try and get some breathing room between you and Luna. “What?”

“Thou heard us,” she sneers. “We require the same service as our sister.”

You stare at her, your mouth hanging open in shock. Luna was asking you to milk her. Luna was asking you to milk her. Luna hates you, yet she had just asked you to milk her like you did her sister.

Maybe you tripped on your way to her room and were now in a coma. There was no way that Moonbutt would ever ask you for help.

As you stare at her dazedly, Luna takes several steps back, regaining her composure. Lifting a hoof to her mouth, she clears her throat softly.

“Do so, and we shall give thy machine back to thee,” she says.

You blink, shaking your head to clear it. Trying to regain some of your professionalism, you straighten the labels of your jacket.

“Well, the thing is… you see…” you begin before trailing off. Rubbing the back of your neck, you try to think of the best way to tell her that you charge bits per milking. Seeing as she almost broke your machine a few seconds ago, you certainly weren’t going to do this for free—

“Why doest thou hesitate? Is there something wrong?” Luna asks suddenly. A demented smile slowly begins to spread across her face. “Are we not pretty enough for thee? Is that it?” she asks, a manic look in her eyes. “Dost thou find our sister more appealing than us? Is she prettier? Is that it? WHAT DOES SHE HAVE THAT WE DON’T HAVE?!” Her voice steadily rises to a scream, and her right eye begins to twitch.

—on second thought, you’d take getting your machine back as payment enough.

“No, no, that’s not it!” you say quickly, waving your arms in front of you, trying to calm her down. “I’ll do it. I just need to get it set up first!”

Luna’s crazed expression instantly shifts into one of barely concealed joy.

“Huzzah!” she cries, her wings flaring. “Then let us start immediately!” She quickly trots past you and hops up onto her bed.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you move to your machine and run an eye over it, trying see if anything has been broken. It appears to have be scuffed slightly, but other than that, it’s in decent shape. The vacuum looks a little worn, but you’d be able to replace that when you get it back to your room.

Unlooping the hoses from around the machine’s body, you pick up the teat cups before turning to face Luna. You pause, your eyes widening in shock.

She’s lying on her back, her flank resting on the edge of the bed. Her wings are flared by her sides, keeping her from tipping over. Hind legs spread wide, tail hanging down to the floor, she is completely exposed.

And what exposure it was. While her teats were indeed smaller than Celestia’s, they were still a considerable size. Definitely the second largest pair you have seen. They were swollen, milk beading up at the tips of the nipples. The breasts hung down over the top of her marehood, hiding it from view.

After a few seconds you realize that you have been standing there, staring with an open mouth. Luna’s giving you a pointed look, huffing irritably.

“What?” she asks. “Is this not the proper position? This is how we had to lay to be serviced before our banishment.”

“I-it’s fine,” you mutter out, trying to fight the blush spreading across your face. You might be scared of Luna, but damn! She had a lovely pair.

You flick on the vacuum pump and approach Luna cautiously. Holding the teat cups above her breasts, you pause and glance up at her.

“May I?” you ask. You wanted her permission before you started, that way if something stupid happens, you could say truthfully that she asked for it.

“Thou may proceed,” Luna said, her tone snobbish. Despite that, she was watching you eagerly, her tail flicking back and forth.

Swallowing, you lower the pumps and place them over Luna’s teats. The suction immediately kicks in, pulling the nipples into the pumps. Luna gasps, her head falling back onto the bed as her eyes widen. Milk begins to flow down the tubes, heading for the tank, as the pumps continue to suck.

“By the moon,” Luna breaths. “It feels like we are being serviced by two Royal Milkers at once!” Her hips begin to roll in small circles as she hums happily to herself. “This is most pleasurable.”

You remain silent, focusing diligently at the task at hand. You want this to go as smoothly as possible. The last thing you need is for Luna to have more reason to hate you. Fiddling with the dials on the machine, you increase and decrease the amount of suction in steady increments. This causes Luna’s hips to buck with increased vigor.

Her marehood is beginning to glisten, and you try your best to ignore it. You still haven’t managed to… relieve yourself after your session with Celestia, and Lil’ Anon is getting rather pent up. Hopefully, you could finish this up quickly, get your machine to your room, and then have a date with Rosie Palm and her five sisters.

...you really needed to find a girlfriend. Marefriend? Fillyfriend? Whatever.

Cranking the suction up all the way, you notice that the milk receptacle is getting close to full already, and by the look of Luna’s teats, she still has more to give. You’d have to remember to get bigger tanks in the future, if she and her sister were going to become regular customers.

You eye the shrinking free space with some trepidation. You didn’t really want a repeat of what happened with Celestia. Your machine was already covered in a dry layer of her milk, and it would take you at least an hour to clean it properly. The last thing you needed was Luna’s getting all over it as well. You couldn’t stop though. If Gleaming was anything to go off of, mares didn’t like it when you left them half-full. It was either all or nothing.

With space quickly running out, and no plan to be had, it looked like there was nothing you could do to prevent the coming mess. That is, until you catch sight of her winking vulva. A smile slowly spreads across your face as you eye the quivering folds. You suddenly know exactly what to do.

Reaching up, you grab ahold of the tubes through which the milk was currently flowing. The plastic is surprisingly cold, and a thin layer of precipitation has already formed on the outside. Pinching off the ends near the machine, you stop the stream of milk. The pumps immediately kick into overdrive, trying to push the dairy through the blocked passage. This causes the suction to increase even more, which in turn causes Luna to buck her hips happily.

Moving quickly so that the vacuum didn’t burn itself out, you crouch down in front of Luna. Her eyes are closed; she has no idea what is about to happen. Lining the tubes up properly, you wait for the next wink before pushing them forward and sliding them deep into her marehood.

She yelps in shock, her eyes flying open and she glares at you. “What doest thou think thou are do—” You release your grip on the tubes, allowing the backed up milk to flood into her depths. Her eyes widen before becoming unfocused, a weak moan escaping her lips. A small trickle of dairy dribbles from her folds, but other than that, the rest remains inside of her.

You lean back, smiling happily. You have a full tank of milk, your machine is clean… well, for the most part, and the pumps were still pulling the rest of Luna’s milk from her breasts and pushing it into its new receptacle. A win-win in your opinion.

You watch Luna squirm around on the bed for a few seconds before your smile fades and your eyes widen in shock. The pumps are sucking milk from her teats, drawing it down the tubes, and pushing it into her folds where it is slowly accumulating. The muscles of her marehood are clenched tight around the intruders, not allowing any liquid to escape. Her belly was slowly beginning to expand outwards as more and more of her milk was forced into her confines.

The sight alone has you rock hard, but it’s the noises she is making—the squeaks and moans—that push you over the edge. Grabbing your pants, you pull them and your underwear down and discard them. You are pent up and are going to take care of it now.

Stepping up to her, you are careful to not get tangled up in the hoses currently pumping milk into her depths. Her marehood may be preoccupied, but you had another idea in mind. You reach out and grab ahold of her breasts, making sure to not upset the pumps currently sucking on her nipples.

As your hands wrap around her teats, her eyes snap open. She glances down at you with a glare and snarls, “How dare thee touch—” She freezes, her eyes widening as you start to massage her breasts. Her head falls back, and she moans loudly, hips bucking weakly. More milk flows down the tubes, causing her stomach to grow even bigger.

With Luna lost in bliss, you move forward and slip your member between her breasts. They are slightly chilled, but the feeling of her fur against your length makes up for it. Pressing her breasts together, you begin to thrust, sliding your dick between the furry milk pillows. The feeling was indescribable, and, with how pent up you are, you can feel your peak hurtling towards you.

As you humped, more milk is pushed down the tubes, pulsing with each thrust. Luna is panting heavily now, her eyes rolled into the back of her head. You give her breasts another firm squeeze, and she tenses up. Her hind legs clench shut, pressing her breasts together. A burst of milk squirts from between the tubes in her marehood as she climaxes, soaking your legs.

You gasp at the sudden pressure as her breasts squeeze against your member. Grabbing a hold of her legs, you redouble your efforts. A few good strokes and you grunt, pushing your hips hard against the quivering mare. Grinding into her, you tip over the edge. Your cock jerks once before you peak, ropes of your hot seed splattering across her belly, white strands standing out against her dark fur.

Breathing heavily, you pull your member from between her breasts. You twitch as the sensitive head drags across her fur.

Luna’s legs relax, falling limply to the bed. She pants, staring blankly up at the canopy of her bed, a small smile on her face. The pumps continue to suck at the now empty teats. You can see milk inside of the tube, unable to drain because of the amount already inside her.

“Yes,” she breathes suddenly. “Yes, we can see the appeal now.” She pauses to lick her lips, before glancing at you. “Thou hast done a wonderf… a satisfactory job,” she says. “We shall call on thee again in a week’s time.”

You pause, one leg around back in your pants.

“Pardon?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Thou shall tend to us again,” she says, still out of breath. “After all, thou art the Royal Milker, no? Why else would Tia call on your services herself? Though, we did not know she has allowed the Milker the privilege of relieving themselves upon the royal flesh.”

You laugh weakly, giving her a nervous look.

“Now, take thy machine and leave,” she growls. “We wish to enjoy this sensation.”

You nod before quickly pulling your pants on and buckling them. Reaching over, you turn off the vacuum, silencing the machine. The pumps stop pulling at Luna’s teats, and she sighs happily.

You reach down to remove the tubes from her marehood, but stop upon seeing her swollen belly. She doesn’t look pregnant, but it did look like she has been pigging out at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Chuckling softly, you poke her belly with a finger.

“Geez, Luna. You really let yourself go,” you joke. “You’re about as big as your moon now!”

Luna’s warm smile vanishes instantly, replaced instead by a cold, blank look. Your brain realizes what your mouth just said a few seconds after it’s happened. While brain is tearing mouth a new one, your eyes widen in horror.

Slowly, Luna lifts her head, glaring at you from between her splayed hind legs. The sight would have looked hilarious if it weren’t for the fact that the look on her face could make an Ursa Major turn tail and run.

“What,” she growls, and the temperature in the room drops to near freezing, “did thou just say to us, peasant?” You open your mouth, but no words come out. Luna’s eyes narrow, and she pushes herself into a seated position. The pressure on her stomach forces the tubes out of her relaxed marehood. Immediately, a stream of milk spills forth from her lips, soaking her bed and the floor below. Her stomach visibly shrinks as pint after pint of milk pours from her.

You both stare down at the flow of white, blank looks on your faces as you watch the stream slowly die down. The silence is thick in the air as milk drips from her folds onto the soggy sheets below.

Your mouth, having obviously not learned its lesson the first time, decides to speak up again. “Wow, that’s the fastest weight loss program I’ve ever seen!”

~ ~ ~ ~ > > < < ~ ~ ~ ~

Luna’s bedroom door slams open, knocking the two guards standing beside them onto their flanks. You sprint out into the hall, your bare feet skidding on the marble surface. A beam of magic flies over your head, scorching the opposite wall.

Scrambling, you shriek in terror as you sprint off down the hall. Seconds later, Luna bursts from her room, her eyes alight with unbridled fury.

“We are going to rip off thy phallus and use it to beat thee to death!” she screams, her voice causing the walls and floor to shake. With that, she takes off down the hall after you. Apparently not all the milk had drained from her, because it splatters on the floor behind her as she gives chase.

You round the corner, still shrieking like a little girl as you run for your life.

In your pants, Lil’ Anon was silently screaming for you to run faster.

Getting Settled In

“Come on, Anon, it’s not that bad,” Gleaming says as she steps off of the train. The platform is almost empty; barely any ponies are waiting for the train. Though, considering how early it was, that was probably to be expected. After all, the sun had only risen twenty or so minutes ago.

You step out after her, grumbling softly. Your suit is wrinkled, your tie hanging loosely around your neck. It was too early to be up, but you had to catch the early train out of Canterlot.

“Easy for you to say,” you grouse. “You aren’t going to be staying out here in the middle of nowhere.”

“Neither are you,” Gleaming says. “Think of this as... an extended vacation.” She perks up, smiling happily. “Yeah, that’s it! An extended vacation. At least until Princess Luna has calmed down.”

“It’s not my fault that she takes everything I say personally,” you huff, taking a sip of your coffee. Your lift the cup to your lips and take a taste, only to wince as the hot liquid burns your lips. “I’m telling you, she has it out for me.”

“You’re just imagining things,” Gleaming sighs, shaking her head. “She’s still adjusting from her banishment.”

“Adjusting my ass,” you mutter under your breath.

“Oh, cheer up, Anon,” she says, her smile returning. “Ponyville is a nice, quiet town. The locals are friendly, the food is good, and I’m sure you can find something fun to do to pass the time. If you’re having troubles, my sister lives in the local library. You can pay her a visit. I’m sure she can help you find something to do.”

You open you mouth to say something snarky, but the sound of someone clearing their throat stops you. Glancing over your shoulder, you see one of the baggage ponies standing behind you. He motions towards a large crate just off to the side.

“Is this your luggage, sir?” he asks, sounding slightly out of breath.

You glance at the crate before nodding, a blank look on your face. “Yeah, that’s mine.”

“It’s kinda heavy,” the stallion says, not looking away from you.

You nod again, taking another sip of coffee. “That it is.”

An awkward silence fills the air as you stare at one another.

“...if you don’t mind me asking, what’s in it?” the stallion inquires, tilting his head to the side.

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “Stuff.”

“Stuff?” the stallion repeats, cocking an eyebrow.

You nod.

“...and things.” You resume staring at each other. Gleaming glances back and forth between the two of you, a bemused look on her face. She shakes her head, sighing softly.

“Stallions,” she huffs under her breath.

Across the platform, a whistle blows loudly. The noise causes the stallion to jump, and he glances at the large clock in the center of the station. His eyes widen in alarm.

“Uh, nevermind, I got to go,” he says, quickly turning and hurrying off towards the front of the train. You watch him go, a smug smile on your face.

“I can’t believe you brought that with you,” Gleaming says, eyeing the large box.

“I wasn’t going to leave it at the castle,” you say, moving behind it and grabbing the dolly’s handles. “Can you imagine what the batponies would have done to it? It would be destroyed within a week. Besides,” you laughed as you begin to push the box out of the train station, “I risked my life to get it back from Luna. I’m taking it with me when I flee. Spoils of war, bitch!”

“I highly doubt you’re going to need it here,” Gleaming snorted as she walked along beside you.

“You’re just mad that it won’t be close by for your use,” you snicker, smirking at her. She pouts, her ears splaying back.

“That’s not true,” she whines. Then, in a quieter tone, she adds, “I’m more bummed that you won’t be there to do it. I wasn’t kidding when I said the stallions in the guard are jerks.”

You glance over at her, your smirk turning into a soft smile.

“It’s only for three months,” you say. “I’ll be back before you know it.” She smiles back before gently bumping your hip with her shoulder. With that, the two of you head off down the road, heading for Ponyville. You follow Gleaming’s lead, as she knows where to go, having been informed by the Solar Princess earlier this morning about your living arrangements.

In realizing that Luna was going to tear you a new one, Princess Celestia had opted to rent you a small house on the outskirt of Ponyville for the next couple of months. You’d be able to hide out there, away from Luna, until such time as the heat died down. Celestia had placed several advanced spells upon the property that would protect you from Luna’s dream-watching abilities, and would hide you from her scrying attempts.

For lack of a better term, it was now your safehouse for the next couple of months.

Ponyville was starting to wake up as both you and Gleaming enter town, ponies just leaving their homes to start the work day. You get some strange looks aimed in your direction, but that was to be expected. Most ponies knew you existed, but since you rarely left the castle grounds or the surrounding area, they've never really seen you before. However, they still manage to smile and wave in greetings as you pass. In fact, it appears that the crate you are hauling is more cause for curiosity than you are yourself.

As you pass through town on your way to your new living arrangement, you glance around, observing the various activity around you. The local bakery has its windows open and the delicious smell of baked goods is beginning to fill the air. A large red stallion and a smaller orange mare appear to be setting up their stand for the day. A trio of fillies race by, as in the distance the sound of a school bell can be heard. Far above, a lone cloud drifts lazily through the air, a rainbow tail dangling off the edge.

All in all, it’s surprisingly peaceful; not at all like the busy, crowded streets of Canterlot. And unlike Canterlot, everyone appears to have smiles on their faces, instead of their muzzles in the air.

You are beginning to like this place already. Even more so when you catch sight of the local brewery’s window sign, claiming ‘50% off of all purchases of wine and liquor’.

Yeah, you are going to like it here.

Leading you through the marketplace, Gleaming turns and heads down a road that appears to lead to the residential part of town. House dotted the sides of the road, white fencing separating individual yards.

Sitting on the porch of one of the houses, an aquamarine unicorn is tinkering with what looks like a harp. Upon seeing you, her eyes widen and she waves enthusiastically, a large smile on her face. A few houses down, you spy a gray pegasus with a blonde mane exiting the front door, a mailbag draped over her shoulders. She has a muffin crammed in her mouth, and appears to be in a hurry as she rushes past, nearly tripping over her dragging mailbag. The house across the street from hers appears to be vibrating slightly, the dull, rhythmic thumping coming from somewhere inside.

As you walk down the lane, you try and determine which house is yours. None of them particularly stand out to you as one that Celestia would pick. However, Gleaming ignores all of them, continuing down the lane and past the last few houses, heading towards Whitetail Woods.

“I thought you said I was staying in Ponyville,” you say to Gleaming, cocking an eyebrow.

“You are,” she replies, not glancing back as she continues to walk along.

“Then why are we leaving?” you ask, peering back over your shoulders at the shrinking houses in the distances.

“The house is located on the outskirts of town, almost at the border of Whitetail Woods,” Gleaming explains. “Near enough to town that it isn’t too much of a hassle to walk, but far enough away that you’ll have some privacy.”

“Oh…” you say before falling silent, walking behind Gleaming and pushing your box along.

True to her words, it takes the both of you only three minutes to reach your destination. Rounding the bend of a decent-sized hill, the place you will be staying for the next couple of months comes into view, nestled snugly amongst the rolling hills and trees.

You pause, staring at it for a few seconds before glancing down at Gleaming. She’s standing beside you, biting her bottom lip.

“It looks… nice,” she offers weakly, ears splaying back.

Nice was putting it generously. The place is a dump. It was rundown; pieces of wood missing from the siding. The roof was beginning to sag a little, and the whole thing looks like it's leaning to the left. The door is held up by a single hinge, rusted and crumbling.

“...um,” you say before falling silent, unsure of what you are looking at.

“Well, this is the place,” Gleaming says with a forced laugh.

“Nice to see Celestia spared no expense,” you grumble. Gleaming gives you a sheepish grin and you shake your head, sighing loudly, before walking up to your new home.

Parking the crate in front of the house, you proceed up the steps onto the rotting porch. The old wood creaks beneath your feet as it strains to bear your weight.

“At least you have something to do over the next couple of months,” Gleaming says as she moves to stand beside the crate. “You can fix up this house to pass the time!”

“Yippie,” you reply with a roll of your eyes. Pushing the door open carefully, you see that the inside of the house is in the same state as the outside. Cobwebs and dust covered everything. Thankfully, there didn’t appear to be any mold present.

“Well,” Gleaming says slowly, taking a step back, “I’d love to stay and help, but I’m needed back in Canterlot. Sooo, yeah… Bye!”

You turn in time to see a dust cloud disappearing in the distance, a familiar two-toned blue tail just visible. Narrowing your eyes, you shake your head before turning your attention back to the shack. You run an eye over it again, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of your cheek.

“It could be worse, Anon,” you mutter to yourself. “It could be a lot worse.”

You eye the building for a few more seconds before sighing explosively. Approaching your bags, which Gleaming had thankfully left beside the crate, you open up the largest one and begin to fish around inside.

“Pants, shirt, pillow,” you list off under your breath as you dig deeper. Pausing, you pull out a pair of pink, silk panties and give them a confused look. “These aren’t mine,” you say to yourself, turning the article of clothing over in your hands.

Upon seeing the familiar blue shield with three stars above it, you huff and roll your eyes.

“Gleaming Shield’s underwear,” you grunt as you toss them back into the bag. How they got in there, you don’t know, but you’ll have to return them next time you see them. You pause, a bemused look crossing your face as you lift your head. You didn’t even know why ponies had panties; they walked around naked to begin with.

Pushing the thought aside, you roll up your sleeve and plunge your arm into the bag up to your elbow. It takes you a few seconds to finally find what it was you were looking for, but when you do, you pull it out with a cry of triumph.

Studying the small sign in your hands carefully—checking for any damage—you run a finger over the engraved words upon its surface. Satisfied that it was in good condition, you pull a hammer and nail out of a side pocket on the suitcase. You stand up, dusting off your pants, and approach the shack.

Carefully, as to not overly damage the old wood, you nail the sign to one of the supporting beams of the porch. One good hit was all it took to sink the nail into the wood.

Stepping back, you eye the sign, taking in the bold, black letters.

Anon’s Milk-A-Mare

“Where the best drinks are made!”

You stare at the sign for a few more seconds before nodding.

“If anything, it’ll make a nice conversation starter,” you say as you pack up the hammer. Lifting your bags over your shoulder, you push the crate up, over the lip of the porch, and into the house. Carefully closing the door behind you, you move further into the living room.

Parking the crate in front of the crumbling fireplace, you toss your bags onto the moth-eaten couch, causing a large cloud of dust to erupt into the air. You cover your mouth quickly, but it is too late; you already have a lungful of dust for your troubles.

Coughing and hacking, you stumble towards one of the cracked windows and force it open. You quickly stick your head outside, gasping for fresh air.

“First things first, dust everything!” you wheeze.

You pull your head back inside—tugging the neck of your shirt up over your nose—and proceed towards your bag again, intent on retrieving a dusting rag. Unzipping the bag, you just start to reach inside when a muffled 'thud' causes you to pause. You glance up, trying to locate the source of the noise. It happens again, and you turn, glancing over your shoulder at the large crate behind you. The soft sound of thumping was coming from it; something hard tapping against the inside.

Your brow furrowing, you turn to face the crate fully. Reaching out, you grab ahold of the latch, but pause as the tapping noise happens again; a sharp vibration reverberating up your arm. A low hiss reaches your ear, causing your to frown. Is something wrong with your machine? Was it damaged during transport?

Your eyes narrow. Did Luna do something to it?

Steeling yourself for whatever was inside, you undo the latch and quickly swing the crate door open. Your look of concentration turns into shock at the sight that greets you.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you moan as you close your eyes, praying that they were playing tricks on you. That, or the dust cloud knocked you unconscious due to lack of oxygen, and this was a dream.

However, upon opening your eyes again, you confirm that it isn’t a dream, and what you are seeing is real.

There, perched upon your milking machine, tucked snugly within the crate, is a batpony. Her mane is disheveled, and she appears to be sitting at an odd angle. Wings flared as wide as was possible within the confined space, the leathery skin is smushed up against the wooden sides in a manner that looked uncomfortable. Her hind hooves are tucked up next to her head and her tail is flagged to the side, revealing her inflamed marehood. Her breasts are swollen as well, and, due to the pressure on them due to her hind legs, are dribbling a steady stream of milk. The musky scent of arousal suddenly assaults your nose now that the crate is open.

You note that the batpony has one of the machine’s teat cups shoved up her winking marehood, her juices dripping down the plastic tubing and onto the floor of the clear. One of her hind legs is twitching and spasming, causing the tapping noise you had heard as the hoof knocked against the wood.

“Seriously!?” you groan, staring at the mare with a mixture of anger and bewilderment.

She just adjusts her position, causing the teat cup to sink further into her depths with a wet-sounding 'schlink'. She moans happily, rubbing at her winking clit with a hoof.

“It’s not even on!” you cry.

“Doesn’t… matter…” she pants, a look of exhausted satisfaction on her face. “Totally… worth it…”

Milk and Muffins in the Morning

It takes a nearly an hour for you to clean all of the batpony arousal off of your machine. Fifteen minutes of that was just you trying to get it out of the suction cup. You’re not sure what it is about batpony juice, but it’s stickier than sin when it begins to dry.

Placing the washed suction cup back onto the end of the tube, you connect the long plastic hose back up to the machine. With that complete, the machine is clean and your work is finally finished.

You straighten up and run a hand through your hair as you stretch. Wiping your hands clean on an old rag, you toss it onto the disintegrating couch. A cloud of dust flies into the air, reminding you that you haven’t dusted the house yet; cleaning your machine distracted you from your original task.

You run your finger over the mantle and glance at it, only to grimace and quickly wipe it off on your pants.

“It’s worse than I thought,” you mutter. This is shaping up to be an all day job. Everything is covered in a thick layer of dust, and it looks like it's going to take you a long, long time to clean all of it.

And you are already almost out of rags.

“Need to pick up more rags next time I’m in town,” you say, scratching your chin absentmindedly. You look around, trying to figure out where the best place to start would be, when your stomach growls loudly. It is now late in the morning—the sun having risen high in the sky while you were cleaning your machine—and the coffee you had on the train ride over just wasn’t cutting it. You need some food. Unfortunately, you didn't pack any before leaving the castle. That was another thing you had to buy went you went into town.

Speaking of which, what time was it? Maybe some of the stores and stalls were open now. You look around for a clock, only to realize that there isn't one to be found amongst the dust. Adding it to the ever-growing list of things you needed to buy, you move to place the milking machine back into the crate.

You take a step forward, reaching out to pick up your machine, but pause when a faint noise reaches your ear.

"IIIIIIIIINCOMING!!!"

CRASH

Something gray and moving at incredible speed suddenly crashes through the bay window, sending pieces of wood and glass flying in every direction. The only thing that prevents you from being diced up like a pineapple for a cocktail is the fact that all glass in Equestria is safety glass; it prevents pegasi from being injured should they crash through it (like with what is happening right now). Still, you throw your arms up in front of your face all the same as dull pieces of glass and wood shower down upon you. You let out a ~~girly shriek~~ manly cry as the room descending into chaos. There’s an explosion of air as the gray blur flies past you, missing your leg by inches. It ricochets around the room before crashing into the couch in an explosion of dust, stuffing, and feathers.

Slowly, you stop screaming and lower your arms, glancing around at the carnage. Dust and gray feathers drift through the air, illuminated in the sunlight that was now streaming in through the gaping hole where the window used to be. The walls have several new holes in them, as well as the ceiling.

And there, splayed out in the middle of the remains of the destroyed couch, is the source of all the destruction. It’s a gray pegasus mare. She is lying on her back with her wide flank in the air. She blinks dazedly before gazing up at you with large, golden eyes.

Well, one eye looks at you. The other stares at the fireplace.

The mare continues to stare up at you for several seconds, giving you a blank look, before a large smile spread across her muzzle.

“Hiya!” she chirped, her blonde tail wagging back and forth.

You give the mare a bemused look. “Hello…?”

“Mail delivery!”

“Mail?” you say, blinking in surprise. “But I haven’t even been here for half-a-day. How could I have mail?”

“I saw you walking through town earlier this morning with a large crate,” the mare continued with a grin. “You know, Ponyville Express could help you transport packages with ease, with little to no hassle on your part!”

“Ponyville Express?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “What is that?”

“It’s the local courier service!” the mare says, her smile growing. “Rain or snow or sleet or hail, our couriers shall never fail. Land or air or rock or sea, nothing will halt our delivery! My name is Ditzy Doo and I’m in charge of the delivery and shipping branch.”

Wiggling around, she flips herself over and gets to her hooves, flapping her wings a couple of times. Dust flies into the air, causing her to sneeze, her crooked eyes straightening out for a brief moment before returning to their original orientation.

Now that she’s standing, you can see the blue mailman cap perched on her head, as well as the mail bag draped across her shoulder. As you watch, she proceeds to dust herself off, pieces of safety glass falling out from between her feathers.

“Is it normal to make such a… dramatic entrance?” you ask, glancing at your destroyed window. Not that it is any worse than it had been before hand. At least there is now a small breeze blowing in, getting some air circulation into the dusty house. Still, it was another thing you had to fix now. The list just keeps on growing.

Ditzy glances at the hole as well, and a small blush touches her cheeks. She rubs the back of her head with a hoof.

“Um… sorry about that,” she titters. “I’m usually a good flyer, despite my eyes, but I’m a little weighed down this morning.”

“Lots of packages today?” you ask, eyeing her bag. It doesn't look very full.

She shakes her head, her blush deepening. “No, nothing like that. It’s just, well…” She trails off, fidgeting slightly before suddenly turning sideways and lifting one of her hind legs.

Your eyes widen as you catch sight of her breast. They are hanging low, and are clearly filled with milk.

“I’m flying a little full this morning,” she explains, not meeting your gaze. She keeps her leg raised as she speaks, balancing on three legs and using her wings to stabilize herself. “The pony who usually helps out with this sort of thing moved to Trottingham last week, and none of us have really gotten used to handling it by ourselves.”

You try and listen to her as she speaks, but your eyes are fixated on her swollen breasts. Having helped Gleaming with the same problem for a couple of months now, you can easily tell that Ditzy was full; small beads of milk collect on the tips of her grayish-blue nipples. You’re amazed she can walk, let alone fly right now.

Oblivious to your staring, Ditzy continues to talk. “I was going to have my friend Berry Punch take care of it yesterday, but forgot, so I’m stopping by after work and seeing if she can help me out—”

“Got fifty-five bits?” you ask suddenly, interrupting her.

Ditzy lowers her legs, blinking up at you like an owl, her ears perked. “...I'm sorry?”

“Do you have fifty-five bits?” you ask again. “If you do, I can help you out with your problem.”

Ditzy stares at you before glancing down between her legs, only to return her gaze back up at you, a look of stunned awe on her face.

“Fifty-five bits?” she asks as if she couldn't believe her ears. “Really? Milky always charged one-hundred-and-fifty bits for her services!”

“Fifty-five bits per milking,” you nodded, a smirk spreading across your face, “and you get something special out of it as well.”

Ditzy closes one of her eyes, the other narrowing. “How long does it take?”

“You’ll be out of here in under twenty minutes,” you promise, “or your money back!”

Ditzy continues to stare up at you for several more seconds, nibbling on her bottom lip, before she opened both eyes. A large smile spread across her face.

“Deal!” she chirps. Dipping her head down, she rummages around in her mailbag for a few seconds before pulling out a bag of bits in her mouth. She holds it out for you, smiling around the bag, and you take it in your hands. Opening the drawstrings, you quickly count out the right amount before handing her back the remainder of her money. As she slips her purse back into the mailbag, you move over to your machine.

“Alright, ma’am, if you’d come right this way,” you say, indicating a spot on the floor clean of debris and dust.

Ditzy does as you ask, slipping her mailbag off of her shoulders. She eyes the machine nervously as she moves into position. “This won’t hurt, will it?”

“Not at all,” you say with a chuckle. “In fact, you might find this rather enjoyable.” The machine begins to whir quietly as you turn it on, the gears and motors springing to life. Picking up the teat cups, you breathe on them to warm them up.

Ditzy watches you out of the corner of her eye, shifting nervously as you approach.

You crouch down beside her, eyeing her teats.

“Ready?” you ask, glancing up at her. When she gives you a hum of confirmation, you lean forward and slip a suction cup over one of her teats. It immediately latched on and began to pulling on the nipple.

Ditzy jerks forward as the cup begins to tug on her teat, kicking her hind legs weakly.

“Oh… OH!” she gasps, her eyes widening.

You attach the second cup, causing the mailmare to jump again. Once both cups are secure and in place, you adjust one of the knobs on the machine, causing the suction to increase.

“Oooooooh~” Ditzy moans softly, her legs trembling. Her wings are flared by her side, the mailman’s cap askew on her head. She swishes her tail back and forth before hiking it up.

“Oh, this is much better than Milky’s technique,” she groans, closing her eyes. “It reminds me of when Dinky was a foal.”

You say nothing. You just watch as milk begins to flow steadily down the plastic tubes towards the container on the machine. It’s tinted a slight yellow, indicating that there is more fat in it than usual.

As the cups continued to pull and suck upon Ditzy’s teats, her breasts slowly begin to shrink. She squirms in place, moaning and panting quietly. Her back hooves knead into the floor as her tail raises higher. A musky aroma begins to fill the air. The scent causes a reaction in your pants, which suddenly feel too small. Looks like you’re going to be spending some private time with yourself before heading out to do those errands.

Keeping a close eye on the pressure and the speed of the milking, you fail to notice Ditzy beginning to move. You jump a little when her muzzle bumps into your stomach, and upon glancing down, you see that her eyes are locked onto your groin and her nostrils are flared.

“Mmmm, you’re helping me,” she mutters, panting weakly. “Let me help you.” With that, she reaches out and grabs the top of your pants in her teeth.

You move to stop her, but she bats your hands away with a stiff wing. It was a halfhearted attempt anyways.

As she pulls your pants down, your member suddenly springs forth, starling her. She stares at it in awe and confusion for a brief moment before squinting one of her eyes to get a better look. A few seconds later, she leans forward and tentatively sniffs the base of your member, causing it to twitch as hot air blows over it.

Your hand still on the machine’s controls, you dial up the suction, causing another blast of hot air to wash across your member as Ditzy gasps. Shaking her head, she licks her lips before kissing your member, sliding her lips up the shaft to the tip. There she pauses, her open eye regarding the head of your member with rapt attention.

Pulling back, she opens both eyes and blinks slowly as she continues to stare at the tip of your member.

You groan softly at the sudden absence of attention before glancing down in confusion.

“It looks like a muffin top,” Ditzy breaths. She stares intently at the tip of your member, drool slowly beginning to gather in the corners of her mouth.

“Wha—” you start to say, but your breath leaves you in a sudden ‘whoosh’ as Ditzy darts forward and swallows your entire length in one swift movement. You jump as you feel yourself suddenly engulfed in the mare’s mouth.

Ditzy grunts, the tip of her muzzle pressed against your stomach. You can feel her tongue running along the bottom of your cock, gently lapping against your sensitive flesh. She pulls back a few inches, and you grit your teeth as her throat tugs on the tip of your member. When you were halfway out of her mouth, she pauses for a brief second to take a breath before pushing herself back down to the base.

She continues at a steady pace, the feeling of her mouth causing your toes to clench. Every time you entered her throat, she would swallow, causing a tugging sensation that nearly caused you to blow your load each time.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you try and distract yourself from the wonderful blowjob you are receiving. You fumble with the milking machine’s controls, and increases the suction to maximum. The teat cups begin to tug on Ditzy’s nipples at a frenzied pace. By now, her breasts were empty of milk, all of it having passed through the tubes and into the container. However, that didn't matter, and Ditzy groaned loudly, causing your cock to vibrate.

Pulling back, she laps at the head of your member with her tongue. She glances up at your face, her golden eyes dulled over with lust. Keeping her gaze locked with yours, she bobs her head up and down on your length, suckling upon it.

This proves to be too much for you.

“Oh shit,” you grunt, closing your eyes tight.

Ditzy, sensing what’s coming, pushes her muzzle all the way down your member, engulfing you completely.

As the head of your member enters the back of her throat, you blow your load. With stars exploding in front of your eyes, you feel around the control panel of your machine, searching. Just as Ditzy begins to swallow, you find what you were looking for. A quick flick of the switch, and the mechanisms in the teat cups whirl to life.

Ditzy’s eyes shoot wide open—going from cross-eyed to completely straight—and she squeals loudly around your cock as the teat cups begin to vibrate wildly. Legs stiff, her tail suddenly flags high as a clear liquid dribbles down her hind legs. Her eyes roll back into her head as she continues to guzzle down your seed.

As you slowly come down from your high, you flick the power button on the machine, turning it off. The teat cups, now inactive, slip from Ditzy’s drained nipples and clatter noisily to the floor, a small trickle of milk leaking out of them.

Ditzy pulls her head back, your member falling limply from her mouth with a soft ‘pop’. She staggers backwards, her legs trembling.

“Oh, I can feel my heartbeat in my little nub,” she gasps, flapping her wings weakly. “It’s been awhile since somepony has scratched my itch. My eyes seem to turn stallions away. Thank you.”

“At Anon’s Milk-a-Mare, we aim to please,” you pant, leaning against your machine, your pants still around your ankles.

“If this is how you treat all your customers, I might have to pay you another visit,” Ditzy says, slipping her mailbag over her head. “Not only was that fun, but this is the emptiest I’ve been since Dinky was still nursing.” She straightens out her mailman cap before giving you a warm smile.

“Sorry to buck and run, but I have to get back to my route. These packages won't delivery themselves!” she nickers. Her wings flare wide and with a mighty flap, she’s out the hole in the wall and airborne.

Heart rate slowly returning to normal, you push yourself up, off of your machine. Pulling your pants up, you eye the full container of milk.

“What am I going to do with you?” you ask nobody in particular. You didn't pack any of your bottles when you fled Canterlot, so you had nothing to put the milk in at the moment. With a sigh, you shake your head Guess that’s another thing to add to the list.

Having finished with the milking, and having taken care of Lil’ Anon, you turn around to continue dusting, but pause when something catches your eye. Sitting on the floor, in a patch of floor cleared of dust because of Ditzy’s wings, was a muffin. A chocolate-chip muffin. You stare at it for a few seconds before a smile touches your lips.

“I guess a little breakfast won’t hurt,” you say. Your stomach growls in agreement. Picking up the muffin, you pull the wrapper off and take a bite. Instantly, flavor explodes in your mouth.

As you chew happily, you unscrew the top of the machine’s milk container. It's almost completely full of milk, the white liquid coming up to nearly the rim. Leaning in, you take a sip of the sweet milk inside. Milk dribbles down your chin as you contemplate the taste

“Yup, definitely above average with the fat,” you say as you take another bite of the muffin. "Probably just above whole milk. Maybe... 5% fat?"

As you sit back and enjoy your impromptu breakfast, the basement door slowly creaks open and a head pokes out. Tufted ears twitch as the batpony glances over at you nervously, her white mane falling in front of one of her eyes. She swallows, ears splaying sideways.

“C-can I come out now?”

Some Berry Good Milk

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.”