As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip

As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip

A Coco Pommel Vogonverse Tale

Preparation

Cabin - bedroom - Miles’ P.O.V.

I felt the soft and sure hands of Coco as she worked on my muscles. I knew what today meant, and I knew what tomorrow would bring. I had to train hard, and I had to do it because the fight I was going into was going to be as hard as they come. Part of what bothered me was that we were getting close to the anniversary of the original WBA. Despite the fights becoming more mixed martial arts than traditional boxing there was the fact the anniversary meant it went to traditional boxing. The fight would be as old school as they come.

It would be a fifteen round limit, fifteen minutes per round, and between ten and fourteen minutes to try to collect yourself between rounds. It was grueling, punishing, and worst of all the fight was with someone that specialized with boxing. I trained in boxing, and I was damned good at it, but it didn’t stop the fact that I had some worries about it. Mickey had told me that he’d done everything he could do in order to keep the match from happening, but I knew it had to happen.

I felt my muscles relax, and the fact that the match would be coming up seemed to be far away. I felt Coco lean against me.

“You worked like a machine out there today,” she said.

I smiled, turned, and faced her, “I’ve got to keep my body in shape. That means a lot of hard work.”

She smiled at me, “I would have thought that you would have been using a gym,” she kissed me softly, “It’s different to see you doing a hard day’s work.”

I reached out, despite my, well everything, being sore and hugged her against me, “I know, but this is how some of the greats trained. Back in the early days of boxing there was a guy that got his arm busted. So, he had to work at the docks hauling fish. He trained himself to fight again doing that. He worked hard for twelve hours a day, and when he went back to the reigning champ didn’t realize that he could punch just as hard with either hand. He’d studied his old fights, but he didn’t study how he’d worked.”

She hugged against me, “I get it, You’re conditioning your body to be able to endure longer.”

I nodded as I held her, “That’s it exactly. Half a fight is just being able to stand the distance. If you can make the entire distance then you’ve got a shot of winning.”

The feeling of hugging her, of holding her, made the aches seem less prominent than they were. After a few moments she slowly got up, and I watched as she stood. She smiled at me, and began to walk out of the room. I watched, uncertain of what she was going to do until she turned back toward me. There was a smile on her lips, a sort of gentle knowing smile that I’d seen there a few times. It was the look of someone with shy confidence, a person who tended to work more on the back side of things than anything else.

“I’m going to make some dinner. I know that you didn’t break for lunch, and you’ve got to get some food in you.”

I nodded, “That sounds good.”

She smiled, “Wonderful, part of it is going to be protein. You need plenty of protein for your muscles. I saw powdered eggs, and I’ll make some of those, I also saw some canned bacon, so I can open a can of it and add some to your breakfast as well.”

I grinned at her, “That sounds awesome, although you might want to use a small can of that bacon. The regular sized ones tend to have about forty pieces of bacon in them.”

She nodded, and I watched as she headed into the hallway. I got up, and I felt the way weave of my legs. I was tired, sore, but it didn’t matter. I wanted to walk to where she was, or at the very least set up in the entertainment room. I walked into the larger room, and I saw the old couch. I moved toward it, took a seat, and let myself just relax on it. I could hear the sound of Coco in the kitchen. I started to try and get up, to go and see if there was something that I could do, but the couch was simply too comfortable.

I leaned back into the comfort of it, enjoying the feeling of what had to be a ninety year old couch, and I felt my eyes begin to close.

Coco’s P.O.V. - Kitchen

I made sure the fire in the wood stove was still going, and then I added another stick just to make sure that it would be hot enough. When that stick began to catch fire I closed the door to the stove. I walked over to the cabinet, grabbed a container of powdered eggs, and I lifted it out. I studied the eggs for a moment and then smiled as I read the instructions. It was fairly simple to make. Equal parts powdered eggs to water, although less water if I wanted the eggs to be heavier.

Considering how hard Miles had pushed himself earlier I didn’t want the eggs to be that heavy, so I went with a nearly fifty fifty mix. Once the mix was in a bowl and looked like eggs I grabbed a frying pan and put them into it. I then found a small can of bacon, which apparently the small cans still had fifteen strips of bacon in them. Regardless I opened it, took out the contents which were two rolls of paper with bacon between them.

I took six strips of bacon, cut them into small pieces, put those pieces in the eggs, and then I put the eggs in the frying pan. A few moments later there was the wonderful smell of a basic omelet cooking. I looked back in the cabinet and I found some gouda cheese. I knew that this kind of cheese was a long term room temperature cheese, and I added some pieces of it to the mixture in the pan. I began to stir it around, letting the gouda melt and sort of hold the omelet together. I then scooped it out, making another omelet, minus the bacon, for me, and I finished off his plate by heating up some of the canned bacon in the frying pan before I placed it on the plate for him.

I carried it out to the entertainment room, and there I saw him on the couch. His eyes were closed, he looked peaceful, but I knew that he had to eat. I walked toward him, gently touching his hand, and watching as he slowly began to wake up. He looked at me for a moment, and then he looked at the two plates of food. There was a soft smile, and I watched as he moved, letting me take the end of the couch. We had sat together, and he had taken notice that I like sitting on the end. I smiled at him, grabbed our plates from the chair I had set them on, and then I handed him his as I took my own.

“This smells really good Coco,” he said.

I smiled, “Thank you,” I took a bite and I could taste how the eggs were almost like regular eggs, but the cheese really helped to hide the slight off taste of them, “I wanted to do this for you.”

He grinned and took another bite, “It tastes better than I remember these things tasting,” he said, “I’m thinking that it’s because you made it.”

I took a bite, enjoyed the taste, but what he said made me feel happier. It was a small praise, and I understood that. But I also understood that he meant it. I had cooked it for him because I was in love with him. I had put that love into the food, and it had come out perfect. I had known ponies, like Short Stack, that made everything they cooked with love. It enhanced the taste of the food, made it taste better, added more to it just just the basic flavors in it.

I watched as he ate, savoring each bite, and then he finished. I finished my plate, picked it and his up, and I started to carry it into the kitchen when he reached up and stopped me. I looked at him, and I knew how tired and sore he had to be, but instead he gently pulled me toward him. I sat the plates on the floor, straddled his legs, and looked at the stallion that was meaning more to me than I could explain. I felt a connection with Miles that I had never felt before, and each day it was simply growing in strength.

I felt his lips against mine, his hands under my shirt, and I lifted my arms, letting him take it off. He found that I had purposefully forgotten a bra today, and I felt his lips kiss down my neck ending at my right nipple, and then I felt the gentle suckle. I knew that anything we did would be dominated heavily by my actions. We had been doing so much, and I wanted to do more, but at the moment I just wanted to be close to him.

I felt us move, and suddenly I was on my side, he was behind me, and our pants had made it down past our knees. I felt him inside of me, and it was a welcomed feeling, a wonderful feeling, but it was slow, lazy, gentle, and oh so welcomed. There was no rush, no need to hurry, and instead he was taking his time making love to me. I felt the softness of his touch as he pulled me close on that couch. I let out a soft moan as I felt his tempo shift. It was still slow, but he was ensuring that I had time to enjoy each movement. I couldn’t help it and I gently began to grind my hips against his. I felt the warmth of his breath on my neck, the sweet sound of his husky voice saying that he loved me.

I responded in kind, “I love you too,” I said.

I felt myself reach an orgasm that I didn’t even realize was as powerful as it was. He held me as I drifted along the euphoria of the moment, and then I felt his kiss again. I lay there with him, the feeling of being so complete, and I realized that this was where I wanted to be. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to stay with him. I had my career, and he had his, but with the technology available I was sure that it would work. I felt his hands resting on my belly.

“I don’t know if I should ask this now,” he said.

I giggled, “Ask what?”

I felt a soft kiss, and then a gentle hug, “If you wanted to marry me,” he said, “It’s not the most romantic way of asking,” he laughed, “but I’ve always heard that when you find that one person you are meant to be with you just know.”

I felt the tears in my eyes, and I couldn’t speak for a moment. He was asking me to marry him. He wanted to be my husband.

“Coco, are you okay?”

I nodded, taking care not to bump his nose, “I’m okay, but I… Yes, I want to marry you. Celestia, I want to marry you tomorrow if we could,” I answered as my hands found his, “I want to be with you.”

I felt him hug me tightly, “I’m glad, I just wasn’t sure if it was the right time.”

I laughed softly, “Miles, it will never be the right time, but you were wrong, this is perhaps the most romantic way I could imagine of being asked.”

The two of us laid there together, and despite the fact that we were on a couch I could feel the weariness in Miles’ body. I didn’t want to get up, and I certainly didn’t want to break the feeling of lying here like this with him. As we lay there the comfort of being together began to permeate our cores. I began to feel Miles’ grasp slacken, and softly but surely I felt the soft even breathing on the back of my neck. He was asleep, and I was content to stay right there with him and join him in slumber.

Miles’ P.O.V. - Entertainment Room

I snorted and found myself awake. I looked in front of me, and there I saw Coco in the darkness of the room. At some point I had fallen asleep on the couch while holding Coco. The two of us had obviously slept hard for quite a few hours. I looked up at the wall and saw the old analogue clock that I had hanging up. My guess about sleeping a few hours had been right. It was now four am. In truth it was time to get to training again. I looked at Coco, how sweetly she was sleeping, and gently I got up from behind her.

I pulled my sweats up, carried her into the bedroom, laid her on the bed, finished stripping her off, and then pulled the blanket up over her. She curled under the blanket, and I gently kissed her. I walked toward the bathroom and found the tub that I had put into the cabin a few years ago. I stripped off, and turned on the hot water. It took the hot water a few minutes to get over to the tub, but when it did I stepped into it, pulled the curtain, and turned on the shower.

The water pressure was nice and high, and I felt the spray of hot water cleansing every single pore. I finished up, stepped out, and grabbed a towel. When I was dry I carried my dirty clothes to the laundry hamper. Toward the back of the cabin was an ancient analogue washer and dryer set. Both were left over from the nineteen nineties, but they worked well enough. We would need to do some laundry in the next day or so, but that would be something to worry about then. I walked back into the bedroom, found the insulated sweatsuit that I wanted, grabbed a pair of boxers, some insulated socks, and then got dressed.

I walked to the kitchen, took some powdered eggs, mixed it with hot water, and then drank it down. I groaned at the taste, but it was something I’d learned from training. I stepped out into the cold and I walked over toward the western side of the cabin. There, in front of me was hundreds of cut stones. Each one weighed about thirty pounds, and I walked to the first one. I picked it up with my right hand, lifted it square to my chest, and then I threw the stone as far as I could. I then reached down with my left, and I tried to match the distance I threw the stone from the right.

I remembered something that Jared had taught me when he first started training me. The throwing of the rocks was an alternative workout, but it had a purpose. It worked my core, and more importantly it worked my endurance with my arms. It built strength in both of them, and it allowed me the ability to throw harder and faster punches. That was exactly what I would be needing. I continued throwing the rocks, watching as they sailed several feet before landing in the snow.

It was well past daylight when I heard the door open. I heard the sounds of snow crunching, and then I saw Coco as she neared where I was. She watched as I continued to throw the rocks, and for the next three hours she stood in the cold as I worked. When I threw the last rock I walked toward the stones, began picking them up, and I jogged with them another fifteen foot. She watched as I placed each one down, and then returned to get another one. I kept moving, I kept jogging, and I kept bending and grabbing the stones. She watched as I went from just placing the stones down to building a wall. Another four hours passed, and when I was done there was a wall that was four foot high by six foot long.

It was simply built, there was no cement holding the stones together, but instead I had used the stones' own weight to build the wall up. I watched as Coco neared it, touched it, and then she began to press down on the top of the stones. I began to question what she was doing when I noticed the stones were sinking a little further. I looked at her and she smiled at me. I pressed against the wall to find that it was stable, sturdy, and looked as if it would be standing for a good long time.

“What did you do?” I asked.

She grinned, “All Earth Ponies have a connection with the ground. I listened to that connection and I pressed the stones back to the ground they came from. That wall won’t just fall over now. If you want it down you’re going to have to tear it down stone by stone.”

I smiled at her. The wall needed to be built, but she had given me another exercise if I wanted it. I would have to remove each stone from its place and take it back if I wanted the wall to come down. Instead I looked at the sky and I could see that we were closing in on early evening.

“I think that it might be time for a break,” I said.

She nodded and hugged me, “Good, because I can make us something to eat, and then we can talk about the wedding.”

I grinned at her, “Are you wanting to get married in Vegas?”

She laughed and shook her head, “No, actually, I think that I would like to get married back in town. Independence would be fine, but I want to be married in this state,” she said as she looked around her, “I love it here. I have more reason to stay, but I love how peaceful it is.”

I smiled and hugged her. She returned the hug and we held each other in the cold.

“When would you want this to happen?”

She giggled, “Before the foal comes would be ideal.”

I looked at her, “What are… We you?”

She smiled, “As much as we’ve done it, and since I was in heat, Yeah, I’m pretty sure that I am.”