Chapters As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
2 Bright Lights, Big City
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip A Coco Pommel Vogonverse Tale
Las Vegas Nevada - The MGM Grand
Miles was surprised that the massage had actually helped. His muscles didn't feel as tight, and it really was like the two sisters had magic fingers and hands. Aloe had offered to give him Coco's number, but he declined. He wanted to do this right, getting to know her the old fashioned way. Jarred had told him before that a girl respected a man better when he worked to get to know her. He did learn where she worked, and right now he was heading toward it. He passed through the crowded casino floor, making his way to the Grand Garden Arena, the place where many major concerts were held in the casino; it was also one of the few places where honest show girls danced to entertain the hundreds of thousands of tourists that visited Vegas each year.
Finding the concert hall, he inquired several of the casino staff where Coco’s office was. The first two members he approached spoke little English. The second spoke some English but not well enough to tell him what he wanted. The final member, an older man wearing a casino uniform and a name badge labeled, “Glen Forrester,” told him that Miss Pommel’s office was in the right wing of the main stage. Miles thanked Glen and began his trek once more.
After bounding up a small set of stairs that led to the right wing of the stage, Miles proceeded to head backstage. There was still activity, even if the shows had long since ended. Many of the chorus girls were still here, putting on shoes and adjusting gloves on their hands (Miles noticed quite a few of the chorus girls were Helpmates, a revelation in itself.) He was approached by a number of the ladies there, asking if him if he was searching for something. A buxom brunette with dazzling green eyes asked if he was looking for someone. He didn’t deign to answer her; his sole focus was on finding Coco’s office. Seeing a door that wasn’t part of the assorted dressing rooms at the far end of the corridor he was in, he swiftly made his way to it.
The door, made of mahogany with a shiny brass knob, bore a silver plaque indicating this was the office of the head costumer for the casino. Under the plaque was a silvery name plate reading, “Coco Pommel.” He walked up toward a door that lead into her office. He knocked, but there wasn't an answer. Trying the knob, he opened the door.The sounds of soft jazz filled the room, the smell of double chocolate fudge scented candles wafted through the air, but it was the sight of the nude anthropomorphic fox girl that caught his attention. She covered herself up and and blushed hard. Her silvery coat of fur was in deep contrast to the deep blush forming on her snout. She had verdant green eyes, one of those eyes getting covered by a wisp of platinum hair and was sporting naught but a pair of plain cotton underpants. The vixen gave a sort of both surprise and derision.
With the young fox maiden was his mark, Coco. She was making adjustments to the vixen’s costume, the kind that the chorus girls wore when on stage. The sheer number of rhinestones and petticoats told Miles this was a very well designed and tailored dress. His attention was arrested, though, by a fuming Coco. She had looked up when her client gasped at the sight of Miles coming in. To his own discomfort, he had barged in while the vixen was in a state of undress. The stern look she affixed to Miles was something that could make even the sternest of Marines cower into a fetal position.
“What are you doing?!” Coco demanded, “This is my office and I’m with a client! Didn’t you see the door closed?!”
“Oh, my! I... I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. No, please don't get up.” Miles stammered.
“Cocolicious,” murmured the young vixen, “just who in the name of Jerry Bruckheimer is that?”
“It’s nobody, Cheri” Coco growled, “don’t worry about him.”
She walked toward him, her grabbing his collar and jerking him back until she had him outside of the her office.
“I can't believe you! You fight in some brutish sport, and then you come marching into a closed office and leer at some poor girl!” Coco roared, “You must be some kind of pervert!”
He looked at the angry woman before him, and he tried to think of how to phrase what he wanted to say. He didn’t want her mad at him, and he had stepped right into it by just barging into her office.
“I swear that I’m not a pervert, and I promise you that walking in here while your- client, was in a state of undress wasn’t my intention,” he said.
“What were you doing then? My office is in the main dressing area,” she said evenly.
It was starting to go downhill and he knew it. He wanted to get to know her, and now she was thinking that he was some kind of Peeping Tom . That wasn’t what he wanted.
“I- uh,” Miles started, “I actually, wanted to talk to. For yo- To you. I want to talk. To you. I uh-”
“Stop,” Coco commanded, “just stop.”
Miles shut his trap, noting that she stopped him from making a larger ass of himself than already he had done.
“Listen,” Coco breathed, “you seem like a nice colt, despite your rather archaic and brutal profession. I do have to wonder why you want to speak to me. If you look around, there are plenty of pretty fillies and beautiful mares that I’m sure would capture your fancy for the night.”
“Well, as tempting as that sounds,” Miles admitted, “I don’t really feel comfortable around-” he sweeps his hand at the slowly assembling ladies of the chorus line, “these- uh, fine ladies.”
“Oh?” Coco asks, slightly amused, “did I make an assumption? Are you a coltcuddler?”
“A what now?” Miles asked confused.
“You know,” Coco continued, “you play for the other team.”
Miles gave the mare a very confused look.
“You dig the spade?” She asked, only to get a look of further confusion, “You ride the dark phantom?”
“Still not following,” Miles said, “it’s like you’re talking but I don’t understand what you’re speaking.”
Coco sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance, then asked, “Are you sexually attracted to stallions?”
Now a look of recognition passed over Miles face, which Coco noticed was swiftly replaced by a look of mild resentment, “That, uh, that would be a no. I am not gay as far as I know.”
Coco gave him an visual appraisal. He wasn’t that bad to look at. He had a lean look, with tight muscle definition that showed through his comfortable clothing choices. He was taller than she was, tall enough where she needed to crane her neck in order to look into his eyes. And what eyes he had; a striking, steely, deep blue, nestled under a shock of dark blonde hair. His face was ruddy in color, but that could have been from embarrassment or exertion.
The way he stood, his shoulders rounded forward, the slight slump of his neck and head, and the inward way his feet were placed told her that the color of his face was most likely from embarrassment. She could see his nervousness, and it reminded her of when she worked with Suri. She had presented herself much the same way. She reached out, her hand taking one of his own, and she patted it.
“It’s okay, just take a moment,” she said.
His entire body seemed to relax a little. She could see some of the nervousness leaving him, but there was certainly some of it still there. She led him toward a bench near the wall. Unlike the locker room this wasn’t an old wood and steel bench. This had been designed with comfort in mind. The triple diamond pattern marking the creator wasn’t lost on Coco. She felt the plush velvet bench, and she gave a small smile to Miles who leaned his head against the wall behind them.
“I don’t even know how to begin,” he admitted after a few moments.
She studied him for a moment as he brought his free hand up and covered his face.
“You just say what’s on your mind,” she replied.
He breathed out, closed his eyes, and silently hoped that nothing stupid came out when he opened his mouth.
“I wanted to say thank you for being so nice earlier, and that I’d like to get to know you better. I know you’ve got a low opinion of what I do, and I can understand that, but I would like to get to know you. You know what I mean right?” he asked.
“I’m flattered,” Coco began, “and while you seem like a nice colt, I just can’t. Sorry, but I have lot’s to do and not a lot of time to do it in.”
“Oh,” Miles replied, casting his face down, “Okay.”
Coco wanted to scream. Here was a reasonably handsome colt, asking her out and she was turning him down. Suri had always said she too dedicated to her career, but this was actually hurting her to see this colt’s rejected face.
“Listen,” Coco added, “it’s not that I don’t want to go out with you but I have a lot of responsibilities here.”
“I understand,” Miles said, “I should get going then.”
Coco watched him as he rose from the sofa, and a part of her broke watching him whither away like he was. Life was unfair, Suri had shown her that, but it was Rarity who showed her that generosity could yield beneficial fruit. Not just for the gifted but for the gifter.
“Wait,” Coco said, almost shouting. Miles stopped, half turning to see her, “Yes?”
Rummaging through a pocket in her skirt, Coco produced a business card, “Here. I’ll have some time on Thursday after next. Call me; I’ll arrange for us to meet and we can- talk further. Okay?”
Miles visibly brightened up and said, “Sure. Uh, great! I’ll call you on, uh, Wednesday or something- Wait, do you have my number?”
“You know,” Coco said, “I don’t think I do.” She then whipped out her phone, took it out of standby, went into her address book and said, “okay, what is it?”
“Uh, what?” Miles questioned.
“Your number, silly!” Coco beamed, “You do have a phone number, right?”
“Oh,” Miles added quizzically, and then, “Oh! Right, my phone number.”
He gave her his number; she poked it into her phone and then gave him a bright smile. They parted ways afterwards, much to the consternation of the chorus girls who eavesdropped. A great many of them shared a look of grand disappointment. Miles couldn’t share their perspective; he gotten the number of Ms. Coco Pommel. There was now very little that could dampen his spirits.
He walked away from the backstage area, toward the hall, and right into the back of someone.
“Sorry,” he said offering his hand.
“Hell of a fight earlier,” the person he bumped into said.
Miles looked at the body he bumped into and recognized a face he had seen a few times before. The guy had never really talked to him before now, but here they were.
“You know, I’ve followed your career for the past sixteen months, and I’ve noticed something. That right hook and over arm throw has slowed down about half a second,” he said.
Miles rolled his eyes and started to walk away.
“It doesn’t ever have to slow,” he didn’t finish since Miles held his hand up.
“Thanks but no thanks,” he replied.
“Miles, I’m offering you a chance to be on the same level as the new kids getting into the sport. Do you really think that the WBF is going to check everybody? I can get you the edge that you need. Think about that,” he replied.
Miles looked at him, and the name came back to him. Nick the Greek, Nicholas something. He’d seen him talking to some of the other fighters, some of them had followed this throwback from a bad mobster movie and gotten enhancements. He could see the confident expression on his face, the perfectly combed, and overly greased, hair, and the business suit he was wearing. All of it pointed to money, and it was money that other fighters had forked over.
He shook his head and started to walk around him.
“Look Mr….” Miles started.
“Mr. Leventis was my father. Just call me Nicky,” Nicky replied
“Nicky, I’m not interested. Sorry, but the one thing that can’t be taken away from me is my pride. I go out to fight, and it’s me, just me,” he replied.
He walked on past him, heading out, and then he heard a dark chuckle.
“It’s your funeral,” Nicky said.
He let the remark roll off of his back. Guys like Nick the Greek were parasites. They fed off of others, and he didn’t want to be the next in line. Besides, today was just too good of a day. He walked out of the MGM Grand, and looked up at the clear sky above Las Vegas. The sky was clear, perfectly clear, and a smile crossed his face. He heard the sound of a large electrical engine roaring. He looked to see one of the delivery transports for the city. There was that, and then there was the over the desert caravan. He’d heard about it before. Apparently some of the Equestrians had a city similar to Las Vegas called Las Pegasus.
They had hand delivered everything there on their backs. There had been a few humans make the trek with them, carrying what they could, and the money was supposed to be pretty good, but it was several days of hard labor. The labor didn’t bother Miles, but the idea of being in the heat for that long did. He looked around the city, and realized that for once he wasn’t in a big hurry to get home.
He could easily come back to Las Vegas to meet with Coco, and he knew that staying here wouldn’t make the next two weeks pass any quicker. So, reluctantly he walked toward the train station. There wasn’t enough script, or credits, in the world that would make him get on a glider. They were supposed to be safe, but the idea of being held in the air by plastic, aluminum tubing, and a twitchy computer. Nope, trains were far safer, and to be honest they had been in use far longer.
He neared the station and he noticed the people working in it. There was the automated Kiosks, but there was also a few booths with normal folks handling the tickets and travel arrangements. He knew that Mickey had most likely bought him a ticket and got the seven day pick-up for him. He walked toward one of the kiosks and noticed another Helpmate standing there. She had a pleasant smile on her face. She wasn’t like Coco or the fox girl she had in her office. To be honest she was more like a griffin. She looked at him, gave him as much of a smile as she could, which he was surprised he was able to tell it was a smile by looking at her eye brows.
“Welcome to Amtrak! How may I assist you?” she asked.
He walked toward her and read the name tag Sievty Longfeather. She was actually very pleasant, and besides having a Sparrow’s beak she was very fetching. He gave her a small smile.
“Actually my agent or manager, to be honest I’m not sure which one he goes by most often, should have reserved me a ticket. I’d like to pick it up,” he said.
“Of course sir, just scan your thumb print and I’ll check for you,” she said.
He did and he watched her as she worked. Her blue runner’s jacket, and short blue skirt seemed to shift slightly as she worked behind the counter of her booth. He caught a glimpse of her white stockings, and stopped staring after that. It wasn’t right. She let out a small laugh, something that seemed to come from deep in her throat, and glanced up at him.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed about looking,” she said after she managed to control herself.
Her golden brown feathers slightly ruffled, and he could smell the hint of cinnamon on her breath as she looked at him. She gave him a small wink and then touched his hand. He felt it being pulled toward her, he started to protest before she put his thumb against the scanner and there was a beep.
“There we go,” she said printing out the ticket and handing it to him. He looked at her.
“We all look from time to time, but I’m guessing that you’re like me. I’ve got someone special that I don’t ever plan on hurting. Have a good trip Mr. Malone, and thank you for riding the rails at Amtrak,” she said.
He boarded the train uncertain of exactly what had happened. Instead he walked toward compartment, walked toward the bed, and sat down on it.
I will never, ever understand women , he thought.
Leaning back he let the sound of the train moving help him relax. It wouldn’t take that long to get back to Colorado, and when he did the first thing he planned on doing was sleeping in his feather bed. He missed it, and for a second, just the briefest of moments, he wondered if Coco would eventually get to missing the same bed.
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip A Coco Pommel Vogonverse Tale
En Route to Denver, Colorado
The smell of the train station was something that always made coming home feel better. The Historical train station was one of the few Twentieth Century buildings to remain untouched by the Denver City Councils “urban beautification” programme. Meaning that of all the buildings in downtown Denver, The Amtrak station had seen only modernization efforts applied to it. Holographic and interactive billboards were installed, independent Digital Assistant kiosks were installed and ran the majority of the ticket operations, and improved Wi-Fi networking were provided to improve the building, along with some minor aesthetic and infrastructure improvements.
The Rocky Mountain air was a welcome breath to Miles, compared to the smoggy atmosphere of Las Vegas. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear that some of the hucksters on The Strip would sell “Pierre-Air,” canned and purified oxygen, to the tourists and maybe a few Las Vegans as well. Here in God’s Country, though, the city and state had worked hard to bring dep environmental laws into place to keep the The Continental Divide air as clean as humanly possible. Maybe that Pierre-Air would come from the city’s ecosphere, Miles though, I don’t want to imagine the markup those con artists would put on. The thought of seeing hundreds of people popping open a can and breathing deeply from the hissing air inside of it gave him a chuckle.
“Welcome back Mr. Malone. I noticed that while in Las Vegas you enjoyed a relaxing massage provided by the Healing Touch Massage and Spa. Would you like for me to book you a similar experience at Mistress Tina’s International House of Massage?” the Digital Kiosk Assistant asked.
Miles’ Eyes widened at the name. He had heard about it before. The place was famous for some of the more lewd acts that happened behind closed doors. It was rumored that the owner of the place actually recorded everything that happened in there. It could explain how a couple of minor celebrities had some incriminating videos of themselves released with a couple of Tina’s girls.
“No thanks,” he said.
“Very good sir, would you like me to contact the shuttle for you? It could take you to your parked vehicle,” it said.
“Thanks, but I’m fine walking,” Miles replied, “Although I will admit that I’m a little hungry. I’m kind of craving a Sirloin Swiss & Grilled Onion from Jack in the Box. So, would you mind making a pickup order for me?” he asked.
“Of course sir. Sir, the local Jack-in-a-Box has been notified and told about your order, would you like to add anything else to it?” it asked.
“Actually yeah, add a Cherry Coke and an order of steak fries,” he replied.
“Very good sir. The wait time for your pickup is fifteen minutes,” it said before he stepped away.
He walked out into the crisp mountain air. There was two parking lots for the train station, and his was in the underground parking lot. Unlike the traditional parking lot the underground one had the advantages of two parking attendants on every level, panoramic security cameras spaced in yard by yard grids throughout the structure, RFID parking validation stubs, high powered laser security gates, and last but not least where tire spike strips at every entrance and exit in the lot. It was one of the safest places to park he had seen in most of Colorado. The smell of one of a soft Pretzel and Cheese vendor caught his attention as he neared the entrance of the underground parking lot.
“Mister, want a soft pretzel? I’ve got the Sourdough pretzels, I’ve got the Cheddar bread pretzels, and I’ve even got the classic pretzel,” the older man said.
Miles could see from the cart and the way the man was standing that his business had to be suffering a little. He walked toward him and then noticed a couple of college kids looking at the stand and checking their mini tablets. The girl, in particular, was looking rather annoyed. From what little he could hear, the prizefighter could only assume the two had naught but two nickels to rub together to buy some lunch. He grinned and then nodded to the man.
“Yeah, I’ll take two of each of those, and some extra cheese sauce for them as well,” he said before he waived the two kids over.
“Can I help you?” the girl asked.
“Noticed that you two looked a little hungry, enjoy your lunch,” he said before he had the vendor hand them their pretzels.
“Wow… Thanks Mister,” she said before she took a huge bite of the Sourdough Pretzel.
He grinned, watched them enjoy their food for a moment, and then walked over to the locked door for the stairwell. He pressed his thumb against the fingerprint reader, it scanned for a moment before the door clicked open, and he stepped inside. The door closed, clicked again, and he walked down to the second level. Once down there he walked toward the attendant’s station and knocked on the window. A young man wearing an open tan jacket and matching Khaki slacks looked at him, opened the window, and smiled.
“What’s up boss? What can I do for you?” he asked.
“I need to pick up my ride,” Miles replied.
“Just scan in and I’ll hand your keys and space number,” the attendant replied.
He pressed his thumb into the scanner once more and it beeped.
“Holy fuck… Miles Malone? Dude! I’ve watched all of your fights! That one against Tony ‘Scarface’ Pacino was amazing! The two of you went thirty-five rounds! How in the hell did you do that?” he asked.
“I got lucky,” Miles deadpanned, “He was a skilled fighter, the kind of guy that you could only read about in the history books.”
“No kidding! That, ‘Say hell to my little friend’, punch of his is supposed to be unstoppable. Dude… My friend won so much scratch over that fight. You’re like my fuckin’ hero!” he exclaimed
“Thanks,” Miles said before the blond headed kid smiled and held up a picture that Miles wished he could forget.
The fight had been one of the worst. It was an exhibition match Mickey had been forced to sign him up for. It was the only way to open up the gates to kind of prize fighting they both wanted him to be in. Mickey had tried, hard, to keep it from happening, but it didn’t matter. Thirty-six rounds with a man from South America simply known as the Mangler. Even with all of the rules and safety regulations the mangler had nearly gouged out his eyes. The man wasn’t attempting to beat him in a boxing match. He was trying to kill his career.
The match lasted so long, he was so tired at the end of it, and it took him actually killing the Mangler’s career for it to stop. He looked at the picture of himself battered, bruised, tired, and at one of the weakest points he had ever been emotionally to a kid who was smiling like he had just woke up Christmas morning and found everything his heart ever desired under a tree.
“You mind to sign an autograph?” he asked.
“Are you going to keep hounding me about that fight until I give you one?” Miles asked.
“Well, yeah, pretty much,” the attendant said.
“Okay,” Miles said, before fishing in his pockets for a pen. The attendant was quicker on the take the Miles was currently, producing an excellent reproduction of a Cross writing instrument, a Peerless 125 Limited Edition, which nominally would set a body back a thousand scrip easily. This reproduction fountain pen was made with cheaper gold electroplate, but it was still a nice pen all the same. Miles took it, signed the little tattered notebook the attendant pushed at him. The attendant began to fanboy after miles handed him the notebook and pen back, almost squeaking like a child’s toy.
“Here you are Mister Malone,” the young man said with a toothy grin, “you’re parked down in Sector 7G. Thanks again, Mister Malone!”
“Right back atcha, kid,” Miles replied, before heading off for his truck.
Along the way, Miles met several security guards, many of them armed with Sandman bolt-casters and MAC-10s. Having been a frequent visitor to this terminal, they guards greeted him with a nod and let him pass without incident. According to his validation ticket, his truck was located in the Red Section of 7G. Why red? Miles thought, I’m almost always parked in green.
He walked toward the red section unsure of why his classic Ram was parked in this section. It shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did, but there was something that kept saying that this was wrong, that maybe it was a bad omen. He brushed that thought off after a moment and thought about grabbing his meal, getting home, and settling in for some training. He unlocked the door, opened it, and slid into the comfortable cloth seat. He slid the key in, turn it on for the glow plugs to do their job, and when the indicator light came on he turned the engine over.
There’s something satisfying about hearing an engine roaring to life. The sound of the old Diesel engine made him smile as he backed it out of its spot and headed toward the exit area. He wasn’t the only one with a Diesel in the area, but there wasn’t that many folks. Most of the other cars in the parking lot had been electric or Plasma. He could see the exit drive for the second parking lot down and pulled through it after showing exit attendant his ID. After a few minutes of driving and stopping he was outside. The colder air outside had been replaced by the heat from the old Ram.
He waited as the moderate traffic slowed and then headed toward home. He was already considering going up to the cabin, and getting started with his training, but then again sometimes it would snow pretty deep in the mountains. While the snow itself only helped in the training it would be the devil’s own time getting back down again. Deciding against heading up the mountain right away he instead headed toward his home.
The old Victorian style house began to come into view. The older home was chosen, originally,because it was set to be destroyed. The house’s wiring structure just wouldn’t support the kind of full immersion rig that would normally be a selling point for owning a house this large. Finding out that it would need a massive overhaul, in wiring at least, to work in the kind of immersion rig that would attract most people was exactly what attracted him. He didn’t want to be as connected as everyone else.
In a way he liked living in what could be considered a twentieth century setting. Something from a time that had already passed on by. The house itself sat set on a pretty large plot of land. Apparently the city had absorbed the ranch the house belonged to long ago, but the home place, basically a very large yard, was all that was left of a place where cattle and horses had once roamed. He pulled into the garage, used his remote to lower the door, killed the truck and walked out of it then over to the house. He unlocked it with the key set he had, and walked inside.
The air inside of the house had gotten a little stale. He looked at the hall he was in and gave a slight smile. He reached over, flicked on a light switch and the old standard lighting came on. He closed the door, walked to the stairs and walked up to his room. It had been a dream, at one point, to try and make this place look like it had at the earlier point of its existence. The remodel had been slow, and part of that was finding a saw mill that was willing to cut and shape the hardwood floor he wanted. From there he treated and stained it. It had taken nearly a year and a half to finish the entrance hall, the dining room, and the den. It had taken patience, love, and desire to see the house to this level of completeness, and he knew that anything worth having in life took the same traits.
The sound of the television switching on was the evidence of the one piece of semi modern technology. The Television was a couple of years old, being more of a large all in one computer than a television, and it had a motion activator inside of it. The moment it picked up him being in the room it activated and began to fill the room with the sounds of the current news.
“In the latest news today, Ryan Stommel, the representative for the McDonald’s/Walton Corporation, is the latest to be indicted for his actions regarding corporate slaving. Mr. Strommell’s lawyers have stated that they feel it is unfair of the Federal Government to set charges against their client on this law. We’ll be following the trial, and bringing the most up to date information possible. On a sadder note, Vice President Steve Gates is currently in critical condition. Most of our viewers may remember when Andrew Walker, the national manager for the McDonald’s Corporate farms, pulled out a pistol and shot the vice president. We here at MSNBC want to send our well wishes, and prayers, to Vice President Gates, and we hope for a speedy recovery,” the anchor woman's voice said as he passed by.
He walked out of the room and the television put itself into powersave mode. He walked up to his bedroom and saw the massive bed. It had been in the house when he bought it. It was a holdover, an antique King Sized bed frame, and while he didn’t often go for overly grand things he loved the idea of having such a large bed to sleep in. Right now that was something he was seriously considering. Exhaustion had reared its ugly head, and he was ready to climb into the bed. Still, he had training to do, and the mountain was the best place for the strength training he was going to do. It meant packing a light bag, making sure to take a toolkit, and of course take a barrel of used cooking oil to run the diesel generator for the cabin.
These thoughts and others flashed across his mind before a boot clad foot struck at a upraised floorboard, broken in an incident several weeks back involving a set of weights. Miles looked forlorn over the broken board. “Bloody Hell…,” he muttered, before kneeling down and removing the old plank, rotted by unchecked rain plus time. Looking around the master bedroom with keener eyes than before, he noted that while the downstairs flooring was brand new, the upstairs had been ignored entirely. Threadbare carpet, musty curtains, rotting floorboards, Miles had paid for renovations of the first floor without thinking of the second floor.
“I’ll need to make a trip back out to Mile High Lumber again…” Miles murmured, “and I’ll also need to see about some new curtains. And dang it all if the carpets up here are on their last hundred footsteps of life! The cabin’ll have to wait. I got some errands to do right here.”
Still holding the broken plank, Miles returned downstairs. Despite the last century aesthetic of his home, he was not without some of the latest conveniences. He did his best to hide them, though, molded polycarbonates and chrome did not mesh well with hardwoods and Victorian style veneers. Marching to a hall just off the sitting room, Miles taps at a panel hidden in a corner bending towards the kitchen. From the concealed panel emerges a modern holographic rig, attached to a kinetic battery assembly.
Miles planted a foot on the charging paddle of the assembly; his pushed the paddle down repeatedly over several minutes until a sufficient charge has been built up. Next, he dialed the number of Mile High Lumber, the woodshop that he used the last time to rebuild the lower level floor of his home. The video screen shows him a blank screen with the words, “DIALING… ” emblazoned on it. After three rings, “DIALING… ” changes into “…CONNECTING… .” Within a moment, the screen fills in with a view the office at Mile High Lumber and a sickly young man with a shock of ash blonde hair emerges on the screen. he wears a blank look on his face and answers the videophone in a detached manner.
“Mile High Lumber,” the bored looking clerk recited, “finest quality wood in the four corners. My name is Jim, how may I help you?”
Miles said, “Hey, Jim, it’s Miles Malone.”
“What can I do for you, Mr. Malone?” replied Jim, the unenthusiastic sales clerk.
“I want to speak to your boss, Austin,” Miles answered, “is he in?”
“Let me check.” Jim replied, before placing the call on hold. It isn’t long before the hold screen, with accompanying Muzak, flashes back to the office once more. This time, the image of a forty-something old man comes onto the screen. Like Jim, his hair is sandy blond, his eyes are a pale grey, and his cheeks are pale. Unlike jim, Austin is a bundle of energy and a smile cracks across the lower half of his scraggly, unshaven face.
“RUSTY!” Austin shouted, “my favorite customer! How’s it hanging, Red?! After yer last fight, I had it in mind you was gonna be in the wind for a month or so! What cen I do ya fer?”
“Curb your enthusiasm, Austin,” Miles retorts, “I didn't have a concussion before, but you're close enough to give me one!’
“Okay, okay,” Austin deferred, “so, what can I help with on this fine, Denver day?”
“More of the same from last time,” Miles answered, “the downstairs is looking right posh, but the upstairs? I just did a quick shifty of it and it’s an outright mess. I’m going to need a lot of planks to get this job done…”
“Okay, I gotcha,” Austin said, “another order of Hickory, then. And the varnish, too? Or are gonna try making that stuff by hand?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna need the varnish,” Miles said, “the last time I tried, I ended tripping balls for days. I still don’t know what I was doing with that pillow…”
Austin laughs, “Ah, that is classic! Yeah,I told you the handmade stuff is hard. Almost gotta be a theoretical physicist to make that stuff right. Or some DuPont/Dow chemist. Okay, a order of varnish to go with. Anything else, Rusty?”
“Nope, that should about do it,” Miles said, “when can I pick it all up?”
“It’ll be a bit before the lumber is in,” said Austin, “hickory is kinda uncommon nowadays, but I know a guy that has some to spare. I figure, next Wednesday, at the earliest.”
“Okay, that will give me time to shop for carpets and drapes,” Miles said.
“What,” Austin quizzed, “you expecting a woman, Rusty?”
“No,” Miles retorted, “why can’t a guy just like to make his home look nice.”
In the background, Jim the Unenthusiastic Sales Clerk was heard saying, “Gay!” Austin turns to his young employee and growls, “You wanna know what unemployment is like in this economy, Jimbo?”
Jim can be se shaken his head, his face ashen.
“That shut the Hell up and get back to work, eh?” Austin continues, “Good help, huh?”
“Pretty much,” Miles replies, “so, Wednesday?”
“Yep,” Austin answers, “be here with bells on?”
“You better believe it!” Miles retorts.
The two man chat for a while, every now and again watching Jim sidle into view trying his best to bomb the chat. Eventually, Miles and Austin say their goodbyes; Miles hangs up the holovidphone and returns it to it’s hidden crevice. Now assured of at least important errand he had accomplished, he set out again, still fatigued, to a local home decor shop.
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
4 Cultured Lights and Wandering Thoughts
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
A Coco Pommel Vogonverse Tale
Cultured Lights, and Wandering Thoughts
Las Vegas Nevada - The MGM Grand - Coco’s Penthouse Suite
Coco breathed out as she neared the penthouse suite she had. Mr. Richards, the casino owner, was more than kind enough to let her live in the casino itself, and it did make things easier. She pressed her thumb against the reader and when she did the door unlocked. A small satisfied grin crossed her lips as she crossed over the threshold.
The suite's lights automatically lit up the moment they sensed someone walk in. The rich greens and light blues of the suite struck her as perfect colors, and she made her way toward her kitchen.
She had access to room service, but she preferred to cook for herself, and besides she enjoyed the chance to expand her creative juices past making clothes. Still, tonight was a slightly different meal. Nothing too complex, just a plate of steamed vegetables, and perhaps a couple pieces of catfish.
As she washed the vegetables her mind began to wander through the events of the day. Helping out Cheri, marking a few fabrics they needed to order in, and lastly, the stallion she had met.
There was an attraction, she wasn't going to lie to herself and say there wasn't, but that wasn't all there was. She saw something that reminded her of herself from years ago. She stopped focusing on the thought and instead went back to her vegetables.
They were cut, cubed, and ready to be steamed. Her catfish was already prepared and simply needed to be baked, and that left one last thing to do. She walked toward the refrigerator once more and found a bottle of sparkling cider. She opened the top of it and smelled the sweet fragrance as it wafted out. Walking back toward the island she set the bottle down, fished a wine glass from it’s hanging place, and poured half a glass of the cider. She then placed the vegetables into a steamer, and put the catfish into the oven.
“Madam,” a sweet voice said.
“Yes Julia?” Coco answered.
The digital form of an older woman appeared on the screen and gave a slight bow.
“It appears that Cheri has decided to call upon you this evening. She has said something about it being very daunting news!” Julia exclaimed.
“Patch her through,” Coco said as she sipped her cider.
“Coco… They… Mr. Richards said that he doesn’t see a reason for expanding my act!” Cheri cried.
“Oh, oh dear, I know that you were looking forward to having the extra pay. Did he give a reason?” Coco asked.
“He… He said that the casino already has enough singing and dancing numbers!” she cried.
He does have a point. There is at least three different major Manehatten (she chided herself for remembering she wasn’t in Equestria anymore; for all she knew, Equestria didn’t exist anymore) style shows going on at least three times a week. That’s not to mention the back up dancers for the normal stage shows , Coco thought.
“I understand, but didn’t you say that you had another skill you wanted to use?” Coco asked.
“Well,” Cheri sniffed, “I… I said that I could do some acrobatics. He told me to get a routine ready, and he’d see if we could use it… Coco all I really have is dancing! I haven’t walked a tightwire in years!”
Coco breathed out a short sigh. It was going to be one of those nights. She liked Cheri, quite a bit, but she was practically a foal about things like this. She didn’t like to pry about other ponies finances, but she knew that Cheri made enough to live a fairly comfortable life. She’d been over to Cheri’s apartment before, and it wasn’t living in squalor. It certainly reflected Cheri’s personality. The entire apartment was done in warm colors, the furniture seemed to be fairly new, the table in the kitchen was able to extend in order to seat more ponies. It looked… a bit extravagant to her, but then her own Penthouse had the same feel to it. It felt, a bit much at times. Granted, it was like this when she was given the Penthouse, but it still felt… It felt as if was a bit much.
“Coco?” Cheri asked.
“Cheri, you did say that you have some acrobatic…” she began before Cheri erupted into tears.
“I didn’t think that he would call me on it! My life is ruuuuiiiiinnnneeeeedddd!” Cheri cried.
Cheri cried for several more seconds before Coco heard the sounds of the oven cooling down, venting the heat, the steamer doing the same, and she realized that Julia had caught everything before it overcooked. She is forcibly reminded of the mare she thought of as her best friend in the world and how she would overreact to stressful situations. True, Rarity Carousel had grown up while living here. She was married now with a wonderful human stallion and had three wonderful foals. The fashionista was still a drama queen, but age had toned down the greater part of her theatrics.
“Cheri, I was about to eat dinner…” she started before she saw the change in Cheri’s attitude.
“That’s so sweet of you Co, but I don’t want to impose,” she said sweetly.
She let out a small sigh of annoyance and realized what was coming, “I know, but if you’d like to talk to me you’re welcome to join me for dinner. We can discuss this over some catfish,” she said.
“Oh thank goodness! I’m starved, and I so need to talk to you… I need my best friend in the whole world to help make the world feel better,” she said.
Cheri, you’re a good friend, and I’m all for helping friends during their estrous cycles, but I’m not really in the mood for any funny business , Coco thought as she smiled at her friend through the view screen.
“When will you be here?” Coco asked.
“Actually… I’m already outside. I was riding up in the elevator…” Cheri said.
Coco fought down the slight feeling annoyance. She knew that this was just part of Cheri’s personality. She accepted it because it was part of her friend, but she would like a little time to attempt to get comfortable. Instead she would have to entertain without even a very quick shower. She felt the grime of the day on her fur, and she wanted it off, but there was a friend that needed her help.
She opened the door and Cheri practically bounced into the room with her. She shook her head, and walked with her friend toward the kitchen.
“Co it’s just terrible! There’s this cute little faux leather bag, a Gucci bag, that I saw in the mall yesterday. It’s amazing, and it matches my fur just perfect! I really want it, but if I dip into it I’ll be dipping into my grocery budget!” Cheri whined.
Coco shook her head slightly as she took out the pan with the Catfish, placed a piece on Cheri’s plate, one on her own, and left an extra should either of them want another piece, and then she placed out the steamed vegetables. Cheri looked at the steamed carrots, broccoli, sweet peas, and water chestnuts.
“Co, you agree right? I mean I need this extra act,” she said.
“Well,” Coco said before she smiled, “I understand that the bag looks nice, but you know that I could make you something like that.”
Cheri grinned and shook her head, “I know Co, but that’s not the point. It’s a Gucci! There’s status to having a Gucci bag, and I so want that. I’ve seen the other girls who have new Gucci bags, and it shows how well they’re doing. I want to show that I’m doing well.”
Coco smiled, drank a bit more cider, and chewed a bit of her catfish.
“You know Cheri, if I created a bag for you it would be one of a kind. There would be no cheap reproductions, and no one else could possibly get another bag just like it, despite the money they offered. On top of that you would officially own the very first Coco Pommel handbag,” she said.
Cheri’s eyes brightened up. She stood up and pranced in place for a moment.
“It’d be the ultimate status symbol!” The vixen breathed, “All of those other girls would have to realize that I’m doing exceptionally well to have one of the greatest wardrobe designers create me a handbag! Oh, Coco, thank you!” Cheri exclaimed.
Coco began to say something when she felt two lips against her own. Her mouth opened in surprise and she felt a tongue wrestling with her own. She also felt two hands sliding under her pants and panties to cup her cutie marks. She was confused for a moment before she backed out of the kiss.
“Cheri! What are you doing?!” Coco yelped.
“D… Doesn’t that mean that you want to be… like a couple?” she asked.
“No, it doesn’t! Celestia, preserve us, it doesn’t! I… Look, you’re my friend Cheri. I care for you, dearly, but I’m just not interested in m… females. I think the world of you, and I am flattered, and honored, that you would consider me dating material…” she said.
“Oh… oh…” Cheri said as she stood looking embarrassed.
Coco could see her friend getting upset and moved to her. She led Cheri to a sofa and had her sit down. Cheri’s eyes began to well up; Coco gently held her and rocked her back and forth.
“You’re still my best friend Cheri, and I do care for you. I love you, but I just don’t love you like that. I’m not upset, not at all,” she said.
“There was those times… When we…” Cheri said through sniffs and sobs.
Coco nodded, “I know, but that was during our estrous cycles. It was common practice for unattached mares to help their friends during that time, but it doesn’t mean that the mare doing it wants to be with another mare,” she kissed Cheri’s forehead, “It means that you’re my best friend, and I trust you.”
Coco held Cheri for several minutes until the kitsunemimi to fall asleep. She slowly got up, and looked at her now sleeping friend. It would do no good to wake her up and have her leave. She walked to her closet in her bedroom and grabbed an extra blanket. She brought it out and covered Cheri up. she watched as her friend snuggled into it, a slight smile crossing onto her muzzle.
“Mmmmm…. Coco… taste like honey,” Cheri moaned.
The seamstress mare was less than thrilled to here the vixen moan such things in her sleep. Coco rolled her eyes, walked away from her friend, and looked at the view screen. She walked toward it and thought of somepony she could talk to. She wasn’t confused on Cheri, but she also felt horrible that she made her friend feel so terrible. She smiled as she thought of another friend, who had been one of her best friends, and still was.
“Julia, dial Rarity for me,” Coco said.
“Of course,” she said before the screen switched to show a strange looking metal ball with a light working as an eye looking back at her.
“‘Ello! Your friend told me that you want to speak to Co-Direc…. Ummmm… Mistress Rarity! Might I have your name, love?” the ball asked.
“I’m Coco, an old friend of Rarity’s,” she said.
A few minutes passed before a tired looking white Unicorn with a stylish purple mane, slightly disheveled by sleep, appeared on the screen.
“Coco? Darling, is everything okay?” Rarity asked.
“It is… I’m sorry, I didn't even think about what time it is. You have your little ones,” she began before Rarity waved her off.
“Darling, it’s perfectly fine. Besides, my little ones are getting quite a bit older. Jewel and Jake are both in Middle School, and Radiance… She’s already in first grade,” Rarity said with a smile, “But, darling, tell me what is bothering you.”
“Rarity… I… I'm a little worried that I may have hurt a dear friends feelings, and I don’t want to do that,” she said.
“Oh? Tell me everything,” Rarity said.
Coco nodded and began to tell her about Cheri, her personality, the kind of mare, or rather female, she was, and then she explained what had happened. She noticed Rarity’s ears straighten up completely as she heard this. Her eyes widened, and she looked a little surprised.
“Dear me, she took that as an invitation to begin a relationship?” Rarity asked.
Coco nodded and Rarity rubbed her chin.
“You didn't do the wrong thing,” she said, “Letting her believe that you were interested in a relationship would have been wrong, but you ended it before it could begin. You saved her from a much greater pain.”
Coco looked at the floor, “But… She looks so hurt.”
“I know, and I understand completely. Coco, darling, do you remember when we helped each other during our cycles?” Rarity asked.
“Of course, we were both needing relief, and you suggested that since we trusted each other that we go ahead,” she replied.
Rarity nodded, “And afterward neither of us wanted to start a relationship with each other. You know why. Despite the fact that we care deeply for each other we didn’t see what we really desired in one another,” she said before she grinned, “I have nothing against a mare who wants to be with another mare, but I know that it’s something I don’t want. I believe you’re the same.”
Coco nodded.
“Then dear, if you went ahead and gave in you would only be fueling her belief that there’s a chance to have something meaningful with you. That would be wrong since you know that it could never lead to a meaningful relationship,” Rarity said.
“I think that I might have found someone to have that with,” Coco said before she could stop herself.
“Oh? Have you found your special somepony?” Rarity asked.
She looked at her friend gave a sheepish smile.
“Perhaps, he’s a very nice stallion, very kind, and sweet, although I don’t care for his job in the slightest,” Coco replied.
“I felt the same about John’s job. It still frightens me to no end when he goes out on call. Even though he works for a much better firm there are still dangers out there that could take him from me,” she said.
The screen moved to show a slumbering man in the bed. The screen went back to Rarity who had a small smile on her face.
“He’s worth it. He and our children are worth the worry. I know when I go to bed with him that he loves me, that he only has eyes for me, and that he thinks that I am the most beautiful mare who has ever lived. I love him, and I wouldn’t trade what I have with him for all of the culture in Canterlot,” Rarity said.
Coco raised an eyebrow and smiled. That was a very bold statement for Rarity to make. The both of them talked for a while longer, Rarity showed her pictures of her foals. She noticed a picture of Rarity’s son with a much younger filly who was practically hanging off of his arm. He looked a little annoyed at the small white Earth Pony with a blond mane.
“It looks like your son has a filly friend already,” she said.
“Ah, that’s Pinkie’s daughter Lemon. She absolutely adores Jake. She’s a sweet little filly, but I’m sure that she will eventually move on,” Rarity replied.
After a few more minutes the two of them bid each other a good night and Coco watched as the line disconnected. She then went to putting everything up, throwing up the uneaten piece of catfish and vegetables. Being done with it all she walked toward her bathroom. This was the one thing she was very glad was in the Penthouse. The tub was huge, easily large enough for two or three ponies. She ran some hot water, added a little lavender bubble bath, and then began peeling off her clothes. She turned toward the mirror and looked at herself.
Miles believed she was beautiful, and worth approaching. She moved her arms under her breasts and watched as they squeezed together. They weren’t huge, not by a long shot, but she felt they were a good size. She had always taken care to keep her coat, mane, and tail soft and clean. She stepped into the water and felt it soaking her. The warmth flooded her and she slowly sank down into the tub itself.
Ah, that’s better , she thought.
The warmth of the water surrounded her, slowly relaxing her muscles. It felt so comfortable, and she let herself slip down under the water for a moment before she rose up. The water dripped down her chin, making her fur slick down, and she let out the slightest satisfied moan. She found her body wash and began working it into a lather. The smell of green apples filled the air and she smiled. Slowly she worked it into both arms, then down on her neck, her face, and finally she moved to her breasts. She started to wash them when she heard a sound outside of the bathroom.
“Coco?” a sleepy voice asked.
She looked toward the door, knowing that her friend outside.
“I’m taking a bath,” she said.
“Oh… Ummm… Do you mind if I use the bathroom?” she asked.
The Penthouse was nice, but there was just one bathroom in it. She thought about what had happened earlier, and she wasn’t sure what could be done. Looking to the side she saw the shower curtain and she pulled it closed.
“Okay, you can come in,” she said.
A moment later the door opened to reveal a sleepy looking Cheri. She moved into the room, and then stopped. Coco could feel her friend looking at her. She felt a blush crossing her cheeks, and she was feeling very awkward about the situation.
“Sorry… I…” Cheri said before she walked past her to the toilet.
There was the sound of urination and then of the bidet. A few moments later the sink turned on and then she saw Cheri stop again.
“I… I didn’t mean to… Coco I’m sorry,” she cried softly. Coco opened the curtain and saw her friend looking pitiful. She stood up, and reached out for Cheri. She felt her friend hug her, covered in soap, and softly sniffle.
“It’s okay Cheri. Like I said… I’m not angry, and I still love you, but it’s just not like that,” she said.
“It’s a shame… Because I would totally rock your world,” Cheri said, “mm, so soft.”
“Cheri,” Coco murmured, “you can let go now. The hug is over.”
Cheri didn’t respond, she just stayed attached to Coco, getting soap suds all over her clothes and matting the mare’s already wet coat. Then Cheri began to rub against Coco’s nude chest, making the vixen humm appreciatively. Cheri’s fingers found the curve of Coco’s back and began to slide downward until they found her supple flanks again.
“Seriously, Co, I could give nights of unparalleled passion,” Cheri whispered hotly in Coco’s ear, “you have such a wonderful body…”
Cheri’s right hand was now rising, slowly caressing Coco’s curves until she found one of the mare’s exposed breasts; the vixen gave it a firm squeeze. Coco couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips, nor could she stop the pleasurable shiver as Cheri tweaked that nipple. She was getting aroused by Cheri’s ministrations. This was the sort of mixed message Coco was trying to avoid sending. Before things got too involving, Coco got her arms under Cheri’s limbs and pushed away. The whimper in the vixen’s voice hurt, but was necessary.
“You know as well as I do,” Coco began, “that I don’t swing that way. You’re a good friend, Cheri, and we have a lot of fun together. I just don’t see you that way.”
“Oh,” murmured Cheri in response, “okay. I’m sorry. I’ve been under a dry spell lately… I was hoping I could change your mind, but I guess- I hope this doesn’t make things awkward.”
Coco shook her head, “It’s okay. You should probably head home and I need to finish my bath.”
“Alright,” Cheri replied, “I’ll see in the morning, then. Breakfast at the Cove?”
“You bet!” Coco beamed.
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
As Ye Sew So Shall Ye Rip
A Coco Pommel in the Vogonverse Tale
Awkward First Dates
(Las Vegas Nevada - The MGM Grand - Miles’s POV)
I don’t think that I was ever so glad to see a couple of weeks come and go. I looked at the Casino before me, and part of me wondered if she was looking forward to this as much as I was. We’d talked, a little, but this was taking a step in a direction that I wasn’t sure I’d ever take. Knowing Mickey like I do I think that he might have lost a bet on if I’d ever really consider dating or not.
Like I told him before I didn’t have any intention of dating a girl that wanted to go out with the champ. I heard the old stories about the girls who got hooked up with a world champ only for her to head out when he retired, got hurt, or ended up losing the belt. I didn’t want that kind of experience. I guess it’s kind of weird. I’m fine with taking a physical beating, but the idea of dealing with an emotional one scared the living hell out of me.
I walked through the doors of the casino, and within seconds the security began doing exactly what I had expected them to do. They didn’t simply swarm me, but instead they began having more security come onto the floor. I could see that anywhere I walked there was no less than two members of the casino’s private police force. That in and of itself meant that I was not only noticed, but I was completely out of luck in trying to get a really private date with Coco.
I walked across the floor, toward the employee’s only area, and stopped. When I had a match here I had been able to access the back areas without a problem. The system had logged me in as a temp employee, but I knew that my thumb print was most likely already pulled from the system. Instead I walked over toward a public console. I pressed my thumb into the grove, waited for a moment, and then watched the system’s Digital Assistant popped up.
“Welcome to AT&T! I’m Sal the Salamander! How may I help you?” the Digital Assistant asked.
“I’d like to contact Coco Pommel. I believe she lives in the MGM Grand,” I said.
The Digital Assistant disappeared for a moment, and then was replaced by a different one. An older woman’s face appeared for a few seconds. Her mouth moved into a smile, and it was one that I had seen a thousand times before.
“Ah, I believe that you are the young gentleman caller for my Mistress. But you do appear to be a strapping young lad,” she said, “Hold a moment, and I shall inform her that you are on the line.”
A few seconds passed and the screen turned black. At first I thought that the line must have disconnected, but then I heard her voice. Like the other times we’d talked in the past couple of weeks she sounded happy. A bit less tired than she had sounded a few times, but certainly happy.
“Miles! I thought that you were coming in on the seven pm train. Not that I am complaining though. I’m afraid that I’ll still be a few minutes,” she said.
“No problem. I don’t mind waiting,” I replied.
“Good, I shall be down as soon as I’m ready,” she said before the line disconnected.
(Coco’s POV - Coco’s Apartment
My breasts... I cupped them, feeling them fill my hands. They were little more than handfuls. I certainly thought that they fit my figure, but then there were other Earth Ponies out there. Rarity's other friend, the one that had been with her in Manehattan, she was certainly well endowed for anypony. I smiled despite that. Miles had shown an interest in me, and more to the point he had waited to meet with me.
I’d read a few romance novels, both back in Manehatten, and here and I had noticed something about both of them. The mare usually started things in both of them, but the mare was the one putting the effort forth in my old romance novels. She would usually be the one pursuing the handsome stallion, fighting the odds, and then winning him over before claiming him as her stallion.
Here it was a little different. The mare was pursued, and the stallion usually had to be the one to prove that he deserved to be with her. I dried, unwrapped my mane, turned on my hair drier to finish it, and thought about what was going to happen. Did I want pursue Miles? Part of me did. I wanted to pursue him, enjoy the chase, and maybe let him enjoy chasing me as well. Tonight would be the start, the real start, and if it went well enough we could see if this was something we really wanted together.
I walked to the closet and looked inside. I had my work suits, and while they looked professional none of them were really what I wanted to wear. I wanted something, something comfortable, pretty, and something that looked good on me. My eyes landed on the dress. It had been something I created back in Manehattan. Rarity had visited me, seeing the dress, and she admitted that on anypony else it might look a little too vanilla, but she thought that it accented my beauty. I pulled the dress out, opting for a pair of lacy, black, hipster panties to go with them, and deciding against a bra. The straps of the dress simply didn’t lend itself to one anyway.
I checked my hair, finding it mostly dry, and I began to get dressed. A quick coat of blue hoof polish, the same shade nail polish, and a rose. I had several roses, lovely fragrant flowers, that had been delivered to me earlier in the day. An old tradition from earlier days said that a mare would present her intended stallion with a flower, her flower, to show that she would like to be with him. I was a long ways from Equus, if there was even an Equus left, but I had every intention of keeping this tradition. I picked up the shortened stem rose, placed it behind my ear, and looked at the mirror.
“Now, just to go down stairs and meet with him,” I thought.
(Miles POV- MGM Grand Lobby, Near the Elevators)
"Miles," she purred.
Her walk was something that I’m sure a poet or a song writer could do some real justice to, but I’m not either of those things. All I could really say was her walk was a sultry display of innocence and promise. The promise of unbridled passions, the promise of first discoveries, the honest sway of womanly charm but the hesitant stumble of a teenage girl. She revealed everything in by revealing nothing, a professional poker player with a royal flush on the River. Her grace showed she could attract the sort of attention that most women spent their lives building, but we're never born with. She was a sensual being wreathed in naiveté; a Desert rose that had yet to bloom.
The two of us began to walk, deeper into the casino itself until we came across a small restaurant. I’d fought in enough matches in Las Vegas to know that the casinos had everything and anything that a person could ever need. There was restaurants, floor shows, even clothing stores, and novelty shops all located within the building. Each one of them set up so that the customers could see the action on the floor, get a buzz from the feeling of those playing at the tables and machines, and after their show, meal, or purchase their new suit.
We passed a few places that I’d eaten at, granted briefly, and instead I saw several of the more upscale places.
“Any suggestions?” I asked.
She looked at the restaurants in front of us, five or six of them stood out, and then her ears pointed forward. I watched as her nose twitched, and she gripped my hand a bit tighter.
“That one smells delightful,” she replied.
I looked at it. “CRUSH, A fantastic experience in true American Fine Dining,” I read as I walked toward it.
We walked toward the greeter, who seemed unimpressed, for a moment, until she looked back at me. Her eyes widened, and I realized that most likely I was dealing with another fan. Silently I wanted to turn and walk away. I’ve got nothing against my fans, in truth I’m indebted to them. They’re great, all of them, but there are times that I want to eat like any other person.
“Oh My God… You’re… You’re… You’re Miles Malone right?” she said barely above a whisper.
“I am. We’d like to get a table…” I started before she held her hand up, grabbed the small phone attached to the wall next to her, and lifted it up off of the cradle.
“We’ve got a Code Tyler, yeah, a Code Steven Tyler. Right, he wants a table,” she was quiet for a moment before she looked at me, “Um, do you… do you want a seat near a window or the kitchen, because we can do either.”
I looked at Coco who was thinking the same thing. The windows would simply be looking in at the casino, or at a viewscreen that was designed to look like it was the outside.
“Near the Kitchen sound good?” I asked.
Coco nodded, and I nodded to the greeter.
“Kitchen table, for two, Okay I’ll lead him there,” she said before she hung up, “Please, follow me.”
The poor girl looked nervous, really nervous, as she led us to our table. Once there she pulled our chairs out for us, placed two menus, both looking like something I had seen once in Paris when I had first won my world heavyweight title, and then she informed us that a waiter would be over in just a few minutes to take our orders. Coco watched her leave before she looked at me and cocked an eyebrow.
“So, is that normal for you?” she asked.
Normal, the fact that people fell all over themselves to make me happy was something that I was a bit more than just used to. I didn’t like it. That wasn’t how I was raised, or trained, no I was raised to be self reliant, and having people try to do everything, including chew in some places, just felt wrong.
“It is, but it doesn’t mean that I like it,” I replied.
She looked at me with more than a little confusion.
“I like to be able to go places, do things, and enjoy myself without having everyone act like I’m something special. I’m just a guy that happens to be good at what I do. That’s it. I won’t lie, the money is good, really good, but the fame is still something that I’m getting used to,” I shook my head, “I don’t think that I ever will be used to it.”
“Maybe that’s not a bad thing,” she said with a gentle smile gracing her lips, “It might be just the thing that keeps you grounded.”
It felt good to hear someone not be surprised that I didn’t enjoy the attention that came with the fame. Several folks, even Mickey on occasion, had told me that it wasn’t right that I wasn’t enjoying the perks of being the champ. I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to enjoy those perks. I wasn’t into the idea of having one night stands, and I didn’t like the idea of being so well liked just because I could throw a punch and take a hit.
“Kid, listen to me for a second will ya? There’s three kinds of boxers in the world. The hungry guy who’s going to go far, the pampered guy who’s already there, and then there’s the guy who loves the sport, who’s hungry, and who’s willing to tell fame and fortune to go take a flying leap. Out of the three the last one is the one who ends up staying on top the longest. Because above everything else he knows that this sport is about facing the challenge, being ready for it, and putting everything he’s got on the line,” the memory of what Jared had told me came to my mind.
I wanted to keep being the third kind of boxer. The old man had taught me everything he knew, and I agreed with him on the fact that letting the fame go to my head was a horrible idea. I couldn’t let that happen to myself, and I didn’t want to be with anyone who would be fine with me letting that happen. I looked back at Coco, returned her smile, and looked at the menu.
“I guess we should take a look and see if there’s anything that we’d like to try,” I said.
I chanced taking a glance at her to see that she had her menu open. Looking back at my own I could see the staggering amount of money CRUSH wanted for their food. It wasn’t like they were asking the world, but the prices seemed to indicate that it wasn’t far off from it. I knew that I needed to eat plenty of protein, but being that I was on a date with Coco, and I wanted to make a good impression. My eyes lingered on the steak for a moment, and then they drifted down to the vegetarian plates.
It would be healthier, and I thought that maybe it would look a little more pleasing to my date. I looked up from the menu to see a young woman approaching the table. She gave us both a slight bow, which was accented by the dark gray slacks, white shirt, and red scarf she was wearing. She pulled out a tablet, smiled at both of us, and waited for just a moment before starting what I knew had to be a scripted response.
“Welcome to Crush, I’m Yvoette, and I would absolutely love to take your order. May I take your drink order?” she asked.
“I would love an ice sweet tea,” Coco said.
“I’d like the same, please,” I replied.
The girl nodded, “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
She walked away and I could see Coco’s eyes drifting toward me. When she realized that I knew the area around her became incredibly interesting. I grinned, and then I saw her ears straighten. A few moments later I heard the whispers as well. Being the world champion you get used to the whispers. The housewives and teenage girls whispering fantasies about what they’d love to do to you. The questions about who you were dating, what perverse pleasures you took outside of the ring, and then the questions about if you were intelligent or not.
I could hear it now. The thirty something woman sitting behind me, she sounded cultured, well educated, and deprived.
“Mmmm… Such a muscular body, so fit, so strong, and a mind like a simple steel trap I bet. Yes, you’d be easy wouldn’t you? I could control you, have you beg me for release, and then I’d deny you. Because even with all of those muscles, with all of that fame, and with all of that handsome charm you’re still beneath me,” she whispered to herself.
I know she didn’t plan on me hearing her. She was at least two tables over from us, but the restaurant wasn’t overly crowded. Her voice, soft as it might be, carried. Coco’s cheerful expression turned to one of surprise, then anger. She looked at me, and I don’t know what I looked like, but her anger turned into sympathy.
Her hand reached out, touching my own once more. I felt the gentle squeeze that right now was so much appreciated.
“Is it always like this?” she asked.
“Sometimes. There are times when the restaurants are full, the conversations drown out those kinds of whispers. I know that they’re still saying them, but at those times I don’t have to listen to them,” I replied.
A few moments later the waitress returned with our drinks, and she pulled the tablet out again, “Are you ready to order?”
Coco’s glance asked the question that didn’t fall off her lips. With that one look she was asking if I wanted to leave.
“I believe we are,” I replied.
She nodded, seeing that I wasn’t going to let a single woman’s perverted desires ruin what could be a wonderful night for the both of us. We both ended up ordering the organic vegetable medley. I was surprised that Coco ordered it. I had been willing to get her anything on the menu, even the most expensive dish would have been fine, but the organic vegetable medley was the least expensive item.
The waitress left, once more, and we were once again left to ourselves. The woman who had been whispering must have overheard our conversation because she had quietly, and shamefully, gotten up and left. I felt thankful that she was gone, and honestly I didn’t feel a bit bad that she was ashamed. The conversation, and the quiet, flowed naturally between us. An old movie, Pulp Fiction, had a line in it that seemed to fit. ‘That’s when you know you’ve found somebody special. When you can shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.’ I could do that with Coco. I could shut up about the normal small talk and just enjoy being with her. I felt at ease, a peace, and perfectly content when I was with her. It made me feel like I belonged somewhere else other than inside of the ring. She giggled, something that in and of itself was musical all on its own, and I couldn’t help but want to know what the wonderful thing was that made her feel so delighted.
“What?” I asked.
“Oh, just Cheri,” she replied.
“Cheri?” I asked.
“My friend that you walked in on,” she replied.
The vision of the fox girl popped into my head.
“Oh… Sorry about that again,” I replied.
She waved it off, and tittered again, “It’s fine, but what’s funny is that Cheri was trying to convince me that you were going to be nothing but a brute. She said that she didn’t think that you’d know what a gentlestallion was, let alone act like one.”
I smiled and gave a slight bow while I was sitting.
“I’m very glad to have proven her wrong,” I replied.
We looked up to see the waitress returning. She sat both dishes down for us, glancing at me a moment longer than was professional, and left. The delicious smell of the food drifted up to us, and I was certainly ready to enjoy this meal with the beautiful girl in front of me. I was until we both heard them.
“Oh My GOD! IT’S HIM!” the cry came from the front of the restaurant.
She came into the restaurant, heading for us, getting near our table, and I could where this was going. She was obviously from money, a teenager with no spending limit, let loose in a city where every vice was a mere purchase away. Her retro vinyl skirt, mini tank top, teased hair, and artificial nails screamed someone who was addicted to the superficial ideal of the 1980’s. Fans of films from that era, especially the more wealthy ones, would go out of their way to dress like the characters. I’d seen several teenage boys dressed like Marty McFly at some of the fights. She was like them.
“Oh wow… The world champ, that is like the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” she said as she tried to scoot Coco out of her chair.
“Ms, look, I’m glad that you’re a fan, I am, but I’m currently on a date,” I said.
Was it blunt? Sure, I knew it was, but I wanted her to understand that she was interrupting something.
“Oh… Oh… I’m sorry. A date,” she turned toward Coco, “I’ll give you five thousand credits to get up, leave, and go back to your hovel.”
Oh, how I wish I could describe how Coco responded to that. The young miss wore an ingratiating smile, thinking her bribe would engender the earth pony mare to mozy on out. That girl was in a bit of a surprise when Coc spoke next. I laughed so hard, I had sweet tea come out of my nose…
“Five thousand?” Coco said, “Honey, I make five grand in ten minutes when I’m working. And just who do you think you are, Sapphire Shores? What gives you the right to disturb a couple having a fine meal and even finer conversation? Were you raised by timber wolves or something? Did Mother and Father keep you chained up in the backyard? I know what you’re doing, Little Missy, and I don’t care for it, one bit. So take your money, your poor fashion sense, your poor judgement, your lousy attitude, and WALK AWAY.”
“Ack,” the teenager without a spending limit spat, “do- do you even know who I am?!”
Coco shot back, “Somepony who’s roots are showing?”
“Pfft, as if!” the teenager spouts, “I’m Versailles Hilton, Granddaughter of Paris Hilton? Web celebrity extraordinaire? I’m really famous.”
“Is that so?” Coco riffs, “for what?”
To that, Ms. Hillton is speechless.
“Listen, Miss Holton, I couldn’t care one bit who you are,” Coco continues, “you are being rude, obnoxious, and I’m pretty sure this is the VIP table here. Plus, I know the owners of the casino; on my say so, you can and will be thrown out of here, FOR LIFE. So, if you don’t mind, my date and I , would really like to get back to our dining experience.”
Jared once told me that the only worse than making a woman is getting on the bad side of a black Irishman. Looking at the scene I just witnessed, I know for sure that you do not want to cross swords with an Earth pony mare. They will make you pay for it. (I could have sworn I was seeing some black Irish anger rising in Coco’s countenance.)
Aghast, Ms. Hilton left our table. I was hoping we could at least relax a little after that intrusion, but it was not to be. Being in the public spotlight has often gotten me some hangerson. And the individual striding past Ms. Hilton on her way out is just one of those. I honestly could have dealt without having seen North West saunter up to me this evening.
“Miles, baby, so good to see you, bro!” Mr. West says, “look, I know it’s been a while, but have I got a deal for you today! You would not believe how good a deal this is-”
“North, this isn't a good time,” but Mr. West cuts me across, “Miles, bro, you have to hear this! So, I was in contact with my dad’s old production company. They have this backlog of old samples that have been DYING to be repurposed; my latest album is running into a wall but with these samples I could really break out into the industry, see? Here’s where you come in: I know you like music, well duh, everybody who is anybody does, but I was thinking you could come in, have a recording session or two, write and endorsement for the album, and I could cut you on ten percent of the profits! So, whatcha say, huh bro? You in?”
“Mr. West,” I groan, “you’re, what, in your fifties, now? You haven't had a hit record since you started in the music business. And just how much of your mother’s inheritance have you burned through by now, huh? Half, more than half? Your father was at least halfway talented, but you did not inherit any of that. So, if you don’t mind, this is a really big deal I’m having here-”
“Dude, I’d hate to interrupt you,” West starts, “but this is more important than anything you got going- Hey, wait a minute.”
North West is looking at Coco and the expression on his face is telling more than I would like to know.
“Holy shit, son,” West exclaims, “you got yerself a pony girl?! Damn, dude, I knew you were picky, I mean shit, dawg, if you didn’t like that little filly, Becky, that I practically threw at you that one time in Reno, then I knew somethin’ was up. I kinda thought you was gay, but now? Shit, son, you like ‘em with hooves and tails and shit. How much did she set ya back, man?”
“I’m sorry, but do I look like the common whorse here?” Coco asked.
“Mr. West,” I started, “your oblivious and callous nature has made you blind to what is going on here. Ms. Pommel and I are having a date tonight, a date that has been disrupted not once, but twice. I think it’s high time you leave”
“Dawg, come on, don’t do this to me,” North started, “I was jus’ playin’-”
“I’m not,” I growl, “get gone. I don’t care if you go home and get wasted or drive all night and end up in Hollywood, but I want you leave me, and my date, ALONE.”
North looked at us, and I could tell that he decided that he had stepped where he shouldn’t have. With more tact and grace than I thought it was possible for him to have he excused himself, apologized, and walked away from our table. The table was quiet, but it was comfortable, enjoyable, and certainly better than the interruptions that we had been subjected to. Once more I was ready to enjoy our meal, enjoy the company of my date, and I believed that the universe had decided to cut both of a break. Or I did until I heard her again.
The same voice from Versailles Hilton, and this time it didn’t sound like she was being overly friendly. I took a look in the direction of the spoiled heiress, and who I saw standing beside her surprised me. Matthew McGerk, former World Heavyweight Champion, who after his defeat was drummed out of the WBA because of the illegal performance boosters he was using. McGerk had a mean streak a mile long, and it came from the mixture of testosterone enhancement steroids that he injected.
I saw his square jaw, the same jaw I had broken a few years ago, and I noticed that he had put on at least fifty pounds of muscle. My hopes of this being a quiet evening were certainly disappearing quicker than a stack of free immersion rigs. They walked to the table behind us, and I saw the glare from Matthew.
“Malone,” he said with his gravelly voice.
“McGerk,” I replied.
His chair slammed hard into mine, making me bump hard into the table.
“Ooops, seems like I don’t know my own strength. You know… My boss said that you’ve upset his daughter,” he replied.
“I just told her that I’m not interested,” I replied.
“But you’re fine with fuckin’ an expensive toy? Always knew you were a freak of nature,” he said.
I felt my blood boiling. I could handle insults thrown at me, but folks that didn’t deserve it… That’s where I drew the line. Coco didn’t deserve the insults McGerk was handing out. I knew his fighting style, or I did, I knew that he favored the left. He tried to keep from being hit on the left side because he’d gotten his eye socket shattered in one of his earliest fights. It had caused his left eye to be constricted in movement, something that should have gotten him removed from the WBA well before he was.
I knew that he liked throwing haymakers, overly showy punches that hurt like a bitch, but telegraphed well before the punch could land, and I knew that he had no problem hitting a woman. I didn’t want Coco to get drawn into this.
“She’s not a toy,” I replied, perhaps a little too cooly, “She’s an intelligent woman who’s enjoying a date with me. Your boss’ daughter is a spoiled little rich girl that needs to understand that she can’t always get everything she wants.”
The sound of the chair scraping caught my attention and I ducked my head. I was just fast enough to miss the wine bottle he had swung at me. The bottle flew out of his hand, hit the wall, and shattered. I jumped up, not wanting to do this, but determined to keep it from getting worse.
“Mat, for once in your Godforsaken life think about this. If we get into a fight right now, right here, there’s going to be cops, you will go to jail, and for what? All you would have done is entertained a spoiled little girl that has no concept of decency,” I said.
“Nice words, too bad I don’t care,” he replied.
Like our fight a few years ago he telegraphed the punch, and I moved out of the way. I didn’t want to hurt him, and I certainly didn’t want it to get worse.
“Dancing around like a queer again?! Huh?! Fuckin’ joke! That’s what you are! A fuckin’ joke!” he yelled.
I knew what was coming. I was in close quarters, the corner of the ring, and I was going to have to take a beating in order to keep it from moving out. The first punch hit my side, I blocked it, but I still felt it. A kidney punch, well against the rules, the next one was a graze on my shoulder, I shot back, catching him in the stomach, causing him to stumble for a moment, and I looked up. I could see security coming in, and I stepped back as they tasered him. He fell, angry, upset, and unable to move thanks to the several thousand volts flowing through him. They got up, and I looked back at the food on the table. My plate had ended in the floor, my sweet tea joining it, and somewhere in the mess Versailles Hilton had left once more.
“You want to get out of here?” I asked.
She nodded, and we got what was left of our dinner to go. Starting to head out I thought about what there was to do in and around Las Vegas. In truth, the desert, especially at night, was beautiful, and a short drive out into it wouldn’t hurt a thing. We stopped at a car rental, I quickly rented a diesel truck, much like my own back home, and we walked out to it. Crawling into the much newer than my own truck we began our drive.
It was less than ten minutes out of town when we both found exactly what we had hoped to find. Quiet, true, peaceful, and perfect quiet was waiting for us. The restaurant was kind enough to pack the meal in a picnic style and Coco wasted no time setting it up. I helped her into the bed the of the truck where we looked at the night sky, enjoyed the now cold vegetable medley.
(Back of the Truck - Ten minutes outside of Las Vegas - Coco’s Point of View)
I’d always heard that when you found your special somepony there was a spark. Something that made you realize that they were the one just for you, or at least you and your herd, if you did that sort of thing. I felt that with him. I wanted to take it slow, not jump into anything physical, but I did feel the connection with him. I slowly griped the flower, took it into my hands, and I looked at him.
“Miles, I… I want to give this to you. For us Equestrians, this is a symbol that we want to pursue a relationship. We offer the stallion we’re interested in a flower, and we hope that he accepts,” I said.
He carefully took it, and I watched as he placed it in a buttonhole over his chest, “I don’t think that there’s a reason why I wouldn’t accept it.”
We leaned together and I felt his lips on my own. His hands, strong in their own right, pulled me against him, and I found myself diving deeper into a kiss than I thought that I would. His profession was brutal, and it demanded that he himself be a brute, but he wasn’t one here. Here he was a gentle and sweet soul. Our first kiss, a wonderful experience, and one that I dearly hoped would repeat soon.
It did, and I learned that he was a fantastic kisser. Slowly our kissing slowed, and instead I found myself lying on my back, next to him, while we looked into the night sky. The sight of the stars, the moon, and the occasional whistle of the wind were our companions. I felt the warmth of his body as he held me, the way his body fit perfectly with my own as my back pressed against him. Not once did he attempt to push me into doing anything I didn’t want to, and in truth, his being the gentlestallion he was being was making me deeply consider wanting to do everything with him.
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
As Ye Sew So Shall ye Rip
A Coco Pommel in the Vogonverse Tale
The Morning After
(Ten Minutes Outside of Las Vegas)
I woke up the next morning feeling stiff, a little cool, and a bit out of sorts. The memory of the night I had spent with Miles came back to me. I’d spent the night, in the back of the pick-up truck he had rented, and watched the stars with him until we both fell asleep. I could feel something poking me right beside my tail. My clothes were still on, my panties had never left me, and instead I was simply greeted with the presence of Miles’ morning visitor. A soft chuckle escaped me, and instead I snuggled myself against him.
I wanted to take things slow, but I wasn’t a prude. I filed this under a chance to be close to him without taking that one final step. His arm slipped around my waist, and I felt him pulling me close.
“Morning,” he groggily said.
I felt two lips touching the back of my head through my mane. I was determined to take this slow, to not simply be a causal roll in the hay. I wanted to build a relationship with him, and after seeing how sweet, understanding, and kind he truly was, I felt determined to work on this. The only thing about him, about Miles, that I didn’t like was his profession, but I more than realized that we, all of us, are more than what we do. Miles himself may be in a brutish profession, but it doesn’t define him as a brute.
It gave way to the thought of potential foals, scampering around, hanging off their father, and him playing with them, being part of their lives, and never, ever hurting them. I put the thought away. It was early, far too early, to be thinking about foals. Instead I wanted to enjoy the moment I was having with my coltfriend. A moment that seconds later was ruined by the thunderous sound of my stomach rumbling. There it was. The sound of hunger, the need for food, and the single most embarrassing way to ruin what was otherwise a beautiful and romantic moment.
I expected to hear a laugh, but instead I felt the arm on my waist tighten. The body behind me shifted, and I could feel the muscular chest of my coltfriend completely against my back.
“It might be time for us to get some breakfast. I don’t know about you, but I could go for some pancakes, or waffles, either would work,” he said.
Waffles, oh the buttery goodness of blueberry waffles. In Manehattan I had often visited Short Stack’s House of Waffles, and when I did I would order a short stack from Short Stack. “Waffles sound good,” I admitted.
Slowly I could feel him starting to sit up, pulling me up into a sitting position with him. The night had been calm, beautiful, and the morning was more of the same. The tracks created from our drive out here still lay behind us. Miles slowly got up, got out of the bed of the pickup truck, and then he held out his hand to me. I walked over, took his hand, and climbed out behind him. The two of us got into the cab, and he started it.
We drove back toward Las Vegas, and I looked to see him looking at the buildings and shaking his head. After a few moments his eyes widened, and he pointed to a yellow and brown building standing alongside some of the bigger buildings. It was almost comical in the sense of its size compared to those around it, but we soon pulled into its parking lot.
“It’s been forever since I’ve been in a Waffle House,” he said.
We walked into the building and I could smell the delicious fragrance of blueberry waffles drifting over to me.
The drive back into town was mostly silent. I don’t know if I blame Coco and all for this. It was a romantic night, an even more romantic date, and if her stomach hadn’t declared its intentions, it would have been a romantic morning. I didn’t know Vegas well enough to know where the nearest IHoP was, so I was driving around aimless. I was lost, even more so because I refused to use GPS service; I had one of those once and I was even more lost with it than without.
It would have been a fruitless morning searching if I hadn’t figuratively stumbled on a Waffle House just as I was turning off The Strip. The place was rather comical, considering the glitz of Las Vegas; the building was understated and homely compared to the monuments of man’s excess everywhere else. It was early enough in the morning where none too few parking spaces were open. I slotted my Ram into a rank just opposite the front door and helped Coco out of the cab.
“Can I ask you something?” Coco wondered.
“You already did,” I joked, “but go ahead and ask.”
She smiled, so sweet and innocent, asking, “Why do you drive such a big carriage?”
“You mean my truck?” I clarify.
She nods, so I answer, “I live in Colorado. Plenty of mountains out that way, and paved roads are too few. As ungainly as it looks, this old Ram can take the trails and foothills like a champ. Sure, it’s too big for most any city driving, but given what I haul in the bed, it works for me.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” I answer, “I tend to buy a lot of lumber. You can’t haul that up a mountain in a Ford Taurus. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
She gave a small, and gentle, laugh as we walked into the Waffle House. The smell instantly hit us. It had been years, several years, since I’d been in a Waffle House, I wasn’t kidding about that, but even with having been so long those smells were exactly the same as I remembered. We found a seat in a booth, and I touched the menus. Like I remembered, they were clean, but some of the old sticky residue from the various customers holding the menus in syrup covered hands still remained.
Coco touched it, sniffed the menu, and a small smile crossed her face. She looked like the scent and the touch of the menu was bringing back pleasant memories.
“Reminds of you someplace?” I asked.
She nodded, “Mmm, it does. There was a place in Manehattan called Short Stack’s House of Waffles. The menus remind me of that place.”
I grinned, but it wasn’t because I was trying to be overly polite. No, I grinned because the touch, the smells, and hopefully the taste of the place reminded me of Jared. The old boxer had been like a father to me, and every morning he had a ritual of taking me to the Waffle House down near his gym. He liked to visit them because while they were part of a national brand they were independently ran.
“Getting breakfast here means that the money goes out and makes sure that several folks in this town get to have breakfast as well,” he had told me so long ago.
The waitress, a young griffiness helpmate, walked toward us and smiled as she asked what we’d like to order. I ordered a cup of coffee, two sugars, no cream, and a single peanut butter waffle. Coco looked at the menu, a small furrow formed on her brow and she looked at the waitress, “Can I make a special order?”
“Of course, what would you like?” she asked.
“I’d like a short stack of blueberry waffles, with honey butter, and blueberry syrup. I’d also like to order an orange juice,” she replied.
The waitress nodded, took our order back up to the kitchen and suddenly I heard something of an excited shout. There was a bit of an argument, for only a moment, but after about ten minutes I could hear someone heading toward our table. Coco’s eyes widened, her smile brightened, and the moment our food was set down I watched as my date, my marefriend, jumped up out of the booth and hugged the stallion carrying the food to us.
“Short Stack!!!!” she shouted.
“Coco, it’s damned good to see ya! Youse is the only one that ever ordered those blueberry waffles like that! How’s it been, and who’s the stallion?” he asked.
Coco looked at me and I nodded, I didn’t see any harm in an old friend joining us for a bit.
“Shorty,” Coco began, “this is Miles Malone. Miles, this is the owner of the diner I told you about, Short Stack.”
Short Stack was a unicorn stallion, but a unicorn in name only. Sure, he had the horn, but the rest him was fit enough for professional wrestling, the old school World Wrestling Federation style stuff Jared used to show me on his old Zenith CRT. A barrel chest, bulging biceps under cook’s whites, a neck thick and corded with tendons, all of it paired to a honey colored mane and sandy brown coat. One of his beefy hands was held out to shake; I took it, wincing when his palm tried to crush my own.
“Miles, is yah?” Short Stack asked, “And jes how many did yah run?”
Short and Coco laughed at his joke.
“No, seriously, how are yah, little colt,” Short said, “Ah ain’t seen Coco take a stallion before. You gotta be s’methin’ special to be keepin’ my filly’s eye.”
I smiled and shook my head, “I’m doing okay, but I don’t know about anything special. I just know that when I met her that I needed to get to know her.”
There was a smile that crossed his face that seemed surprised, well surprised and pleased. He patted my shoulder, “That’s a good answer. I wouldn’t youse ta go thinking than youse was Celestia’s gift to mares everywhere. A stallion like that wouldn’t be good for my filly here.”
Coco grinned at him. Slowly Short Stack got up, followed by Coco who gave him another hug, which he returned, and he looked both of us.
“Time to get back to the kitchen. Both of youse enjoy your breakfast,” he said before he walked back toward the kitchen and left us to our waffles.
“I had no idea that he was here,” Coco said before she looked at me, “Thank you, thank you so much for choosing here for breakfast. It’s so nice to see a small piece of home.”
“You must miss it,” I said, taking a bite of my waffle, “you’ve made good while you’ve been here, but I imagine you miss some of the small comforts you left behind.”
“Yeah,” Coco confirmed, “there are a few- well, actually, a LOT, of things i miss from back home. You cannot believe how hard it is to get an oat burger here-”
“An oat burger?” I asked.
Coco nodded, “Mmhmm. And hay fries are practically impossible to find. Those ‘french fries’ you guys eat are okay, but a little too greasy for my tastes. Way too salty, as well. I nearly fainted the last time i ate some from that place with the golden arches.”
“You went to McDonalds?” I asked, “What prompted that?”
“Well, Cheri and I were enjoying a joint one night,” Coco explained, “we sometimes do that after a shift, helps to calm us down. So, this one time, oh man, I have no idea where Cheri got this weed, but it was good .”
“I didn’t know ponies would smoke marijuana…”
“Well, it wasn’t illegal in Equestria,” Coco said, “just not abundant. Marijuana plants are kinda hard to find. There are other species that eat them as a primary food source. I think the Zebra use them in religious invocations…”
“So, you regularly do this? Or did this before?”
“When I worked for Suri, yeah, it was the only thing that staved off the headaches she gave me,” Coco answered, “over here, though, the stuff is everywhere. Anyway, Cheri and I got a good buzz going on and later we got a bad case of the munchies.”
“I can imagine,” I replied, dipping a hunk of my waffle into my coffee.
Coco laughed, “Yeah, maybe you can. Anyway, she is more outgoing than I am, so she was the one to suggest going to that McDonalds place.”
“Is that where you discovered the scarcity of oat burgers?” I questioned.
Coco nodded, “Yeah. When I asked, I got a funny look from the filly at the counter. I knew I was high, yet she acted like I had three heads.”
I was quick to stifle a laugh, “Then what?”
“Well, Cheri ordered for me,” Coco continued, “she got me salad, a fruit smoothy, love those by the way, and some of those fries. The salad was okay, if a little dry. The smoothie was heavenly, but it was necessary after choking down some of those fries. Why do your people insist on so much salt on everything?”
“It’s an American thing,” I answered, “even I don’t know.”
“Hmm,” Coco murmured, “anyway, I promised Cheri I would hunt down a recipe for hay fries from Julia Mild if I ever found her…”
“Have you found her?”
“No,” Coco said sadly, “before all of- this, she was one of the first to disappear. I’ve talked with others who’ve been here a while longer than me and they’ve said they haven’t seen hide nor hair of her.”
“You know,” I comment, “that’s the first I’ve heard of talking about your home.”
Coco gives me a wan smile, explaining, “There’s a lot to talk about but- a lot of it is bittersweet. Before I came here, I lost so many friends. I’m not even sure how I even got here-”
“You don’t-” I begin, but she shakes her head.
“No, no, I want to talk about this,” Coco replies, “Equestria was so nice, so wonderful… It’s not so bad here, although you guys need some more green. I think even Los Pegasus had more green around it than this place.”
“We are in the middle of a desert,” I say.
“There is that,” Coco grins, “still- You can’t control the weather here. Your sun and moon move on their own. The animals all seem dead set to oppose you… It’s all rather-”
“Strange?” I supply.
“Alien,” Coco finishes, “it’s all so alien to what I know and understand. But, I’ve been able to work around it. It’s not so bad. I would-”
“Yes?”
“I would like to know if any of my other friends made it here,” Coco answers, “I would like that very much.”
I ask, “Who do you know that made it out?”
“I know Rarity did,” she replies, “for that I thank the Goddesses. I think I read somewhere about Applejack and her siblings… They have a peach orchard in California, I think. I heard something about Fluttershy, out in Neigh York or something…”
“New York,” I correct, which earns me a look, “go on.”
“I think Pinkie Pie is here. She lives with some author in- Okrahoma?”
“Oklahoma?” I say.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Coco confirms, “but until just now, I didn’t know if any others survived. Short Stack is one of the few from my days in Manehattan who I can recall.”
I knew about Equestrians, like Coco, and like almost everyone else I’d heard that several had just appeared. I didn’t know if this Julia was among those who simply appeared, but maybe if she was then eventually Coco might find her. I looked at the peanut butter waffle, or what was left of it, and finished it off in a bite. Coco had finished her food as well, and I quickly accessed the tablet at the table, pulled up our bill, and pressed my thumb against the indention. It took a moment for the tablet to access my thumb print, something I figured was due to the syrupy goodness of the waffles I had just eaten, and once it did it asked if I wanted to leave a tip.
Memories, nostalgia, and the pretty mare sitting across from me drove the decision to leave a tip. I have never worked in a restaurant before, but I had it on good authority that waiters and waitresses made very little, even in today’s money. So I left a 30% tip, thought about it a little more, then upped the tip to 50%. The atmosphere in this place was making me feel giddy; of course, that might have been Coco and her pretty smile.
We walked out of the Waffle House, getting a cheery goodbye from Shorty and an impassioned thank you for the griffiness. The truck was still where I parked it, so it wasn’t that far an excursion with bellies full. I helped Coco into the cab before getting behind the wheel. This had been the best date I had been on in a while.
“So, I began, “do you want to call this a date?”
“Mmhmm,” Coco agreed, “a very good date. I even think the good colt deserves a little something extra for showing a filly a good time.”
“You-” I started, “you don’t really need to so- that.”
“Do what?” Coco asked sincerely, “I was just going to confirm our next date. This was so- wonderful , so I thought I why not set up a second?”
“Oh, right,” I bluttered, “silly me.”
She gave me a slight grin as I fumbled with trying to keep from sounding like I was expecting more than being able to spend time with her. She leaned over and gave me a kiss, small, sweet, and hinted with blueberry syrup. It was one that I returned, but I held back keeping from putting everything into it. I didn’t want to scare her, or worry her. She looked at me, a bit of confusion on her face.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
I shook my head, “Was… Is that the best kiss you can give?”
I shook my head, leaned back in, and this time I kissed her with everything I felt. I let it bubble up, exit from me, and instead fill her in the process. She pulled back, her breath coming in a husky shutter.
“That’s better… Miles, I’m free next Tuesday through Thursday… You’ve seen where I live, here in Las Vegas, maybe it’s time I expanded out and see where you live,” she said.
I nodded, and looked at her.
“I’d like that. It’s not as busy as Las Vegas, but it’s a beautiful place, and there is a bit more green there,” I replied.
She looked at me for a moment.
“I almost want to contact work and inform them that I’d like to take a vacation. I haven’t used any of my days,” she said.
I thought about it, and it sounded good, but the last thing I wanted was for her to get into trouble with her employer.
“I’d like that, but I don’t want you to get into hot water over it,” I said.
“Oh, I wouldn’t. But I would like to give them more of a warning. Perhaps I’ll take off longer than the three days. I may go ahead and take off a full week. It wouldn’t be a bother would it?” she asked.
“No, not at all,” I said.
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
As Ye Sew So Shall ye Rip
A Coco Pommel in the Vogonverse Tale
Rocky Mountain Life
Twenty minutes passed as Coco checked the details of the costumes. The fact that the dance number was extremely engaging was making her check, and double check, the stitching. It seemed as if everything would hold and she breathed out a relaxed sigh. This was it. Tonight she packed, tomorrow she would get on the train, despite Miles’ protests and suggestion that he could drive and get her, and then she’d head toward Colorado.
“Co?” a soft voice called out.
Coco stood up, sighed, and looked toward the direction of the voice calling for her. She could see her, the deep red and silver fur of her friend as she walked carefully over. Cheri almost looked like she had been told there was no more holidays coming ever again. She moved slowly toward Coco, her designer jeans and top looking wrinkled, uncared for, and certainly very much unlike Cheri’s normal self.
“Cheri, what’s wrong?” Coco asked.
“Mr. Richards… He didn’t like my acrobatics display, and he said that they’re getting ready to change the main stage show… Coco he’s talking about cutting my hours! It’s the worst possible thing ever!” Cheri whined.
Coco looked at her, tried very hard not to roll her eyes, and slowly stood up, “Cheri, they made the announcements over two months ago about changing the shows and showtimes up. Most of the other girls have found an extra job to go to already.”
“But… Coco, forget about getting my normal level of, well everything, I’m going to lose my apartment! I don’t have another job go to!” Cheri cried.
She felt bad for Cheri, honestly she did, but at the same time Cheri had been warned, like everypony else, that this was going to happen. It wasn’t like the casino had just dropped this on them from out of the blue. She knew it wasn’t on purpose, but it did seem that Cheri seemed to come around about the same time she was thinking about Miles. Her thoughts about one of her best friends’ problem slowly drifted away as she thought about Miles himself.
She thought about all that Miles did, and slowly her mind thought about the short stage show that the boxing event had. She didn’t know for sure if every event had it, but if it did then Cheri could do that. Sure, it’d most likely need to be just when the events happened here in Las Vegas, but at least it would help out some.
“Cheri, I have an idea, but it means working with the WBA. I’ll have to find out some more about it before I can honestly say one way or the other, but if you’d be interested then I’ll see what I can do,” Coco replied.
“Co, really? Would it be walking around next to naked carrying that tacky sign?” she asked.
Again it was nearly impossible not to roll her eyes at Cheri’s response, “I don’t know, but I’d almost think that getting this close to not having a job you might not have too many choices to choose from.”
Cheri nodded after a moment, “I know, but… Co, I don’t want to look too trashy. I mean those costumes we were are a little revealing, but I don’t want the crowd to think that I’m just a pair of breasts in a bikini.”
She can honestly say that she tried to keep from laughing. She really did, but it was futile. The laughter escaped from her, bubbling up from her stomach, escaping through her mouth, and she fought hard to make it stop. After a few moments she looked at a visibly upset Cheri.
“Cheri, sweetie, I know that you’re not just a pair of teates walking around, but sweetie, you do often present yourself a little, well….” Coco began to say.
“Dumber than I really am… I know, but it makes dealing with people easier,” Cheri replied.
Coco groaned, mildly dissatisfied with her friends response.
“Listen Cheri,” she pronounced, “this is best option right now. If I had to choose between being homeless and looking like a whorse so I could pay rent, I would pick the whorse job. At least I wouldn’t have to act like a whorse. It’s really your fault for wasting time and not looking for additional work. I know the Ritz was looking for a hostess; they pay for that was pretty good but you’d be standing at a podium all day, looking pretentious. I don’t think that job is available now…”
“But-” Cheir tried to protest, only for Coco to raise a hand to silence.
“‘Butt’s are made for sitting,’” the seamstress qipped, “at least that’s what Miles says. And while I wish I had better news for you, you’re kinda outta luck.”
“Motherfucker,” Cheri whispers, “well, I guess it can’t be helped. You will look into it, right?”
Coco nods, adding, “I’ll be in Colorado over the weekend. Miles invited me over to his place in the Rocky’s. If all goes well, I can ask him if he knows anypony that can help. He might not, but there might be somebody he has regular contact with that could help out.”
Cheri’s demeanor changed slightly as she heard that. Coco noticed how she looked as if somepony had said a horrific curse word, and then almost as soon as her demeanor became so sour it changed again. This was a look she’d seen a few times, mainly when Cheri was dealing with payroll. It was a false smile, centered around a fake ‘good for you’ expression. This spoke far louder than her previously sour expression.
“It’s wonderful that you’re going to be getting away… And I’m actually glad that you’re willing to talk to him for me. Still, Co, are you sure that you really want to leave? I was thinking that maybe the two of us could do something. I’m sure that he’d be glad to give you the contact information about the job over the net.”
Coco tried, and managed somehow, to keep from sighing. Cheri was a good friend, but she was getting a little possessive. Rarity had been right about letting her know where boundaries where, but it seemed like her friend was still trying desperately to work her way into a relationship with her. The problem with that was that she just wasn’t into mares like that. Sure, things had been different in Equestria. There was far less stallions around, and a mare did things to help get through her eustris, but those things were done with a close friend, and both friends understood that this was just to ‘beat the heat ’.
She liked Rarity, quite a bit, but there was no way she wanted to start up a relationship with the fashionista, and while she liked Cheri, and Cheri had certainly became a great friend, they hadn’t really reached that level of intimacy in their friendship. The truth was that she just didn’t want to go there. Had she experienced a bad heat already? Of course, and she did ask Cheri to help her find something to take her mind off of it.
That something had been a virtual trip to Bad Dragon. Once there she had bought the tools she needed to keep from losing herself to her heat. She was able to work, take an extended lunch and handle herself, and then get back to work. Her, heat aides were still in her penthouse, safely tucked away in her closet, ready for being used when needed again. She wasn’t like some of the girls here…
There was stories about some of the girls being girth queens. The idea of squeezing something far too large, made of plastic, or something else, up there just didn’t sit well with her. No, she was happy to have what she considered a slightly smaller than average one, with the suction cup attached to her wall, and her backed up against it. She quickly pushed the thought from her mind. The last thing she needed was to get a little excited when Cheri was trying to be so controlling.
“Cheri, I like Miles, I really like him, and I believe that I want him to be my special somepony. I want to visit him, and I have more than enough vacation time to use. You’re my friend, one of my best friends, and I do care for you,” Coco said.
“I get it,” Cheri said sounding dejected, “I do. I just wish that you’d give me half a chance. Coco, I could make you happy.”
This time Coco couldn’t stop the aggravated sigh that escaped her lips. She’d been patient, she’d been understanding, and she had tried her hardest to be the friend that Cheri needed. The feeling up of her cutie marks had been a major sign that Cheri wanted more, but Coco was willing to look past it, keep the friendship, and hope that Cheri would realize that she actually liked stallions.
“Co?” Cheri asked.
She knew that Cheri had to see the scowl she was wearing on her face, the look of somepony who was finally getting a little too fed up with somepony acting like they were the only pony any filly, or stallion, could ever want. Celestia knows that Suri was just as bad. Maybe that’s why it was rubbing her the wrong way, but she was determined to put a stop to it right now.
“Cheri, we’re never going to be anything other than friends. I like stallions. I like the idea of being rutted until I can’t move by a stallion. I like Miles, I like the way he smells, the way he tastes when we kissed, I love how gentle he is, and I love that he respects me enough to give me space enough to make up my own mind!” she seethed, and she slowly forced herself to calm down, “I’m sorry, but I’m not a filly fooler. I never really was. I know that you’ve got so many hopes and dreams for us, but they aren’t want I want for myself.”
She watched as Cheri’s expression changed again. She felt so guilty, so horrible as she watched her friend feel heart break. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to be the reason why Cheri went through heart ache, but she couldn’t let her keep thinking that eventually they were going to become something more than they were.
“O...Okay Co. I g guess that I’ll see you when I see you,” Cheri said before she turned around and practically ran the other way.
She looked at costumes. There was absolutely no way that she focus on this. She knew that what she said hurt Cheri, but at the same time she had to believe that it was going to hurt less than if she let her hold on to the hope that they could be together. She had faith that Rarity was right. Letting her down easy had to be the best way of doing this.
She grabbed a tablet, turned it on, and logged into it.
“Miss Coco?” a familiar voice asked.
“Julia, would you call Cheri for me?”
She looked at the screen, watching her digital assistant holding a digital representation of an old Queen Anne phone.
“I’m sorry Miss Coco, but unfortunately it appears that she is not answering. However, her digital assistant is willing to take a message. Would you like to leave one?”
“Yes, yes I would. Cheri, I’m sorry I really am, and please know that you are always going to be special to me. I still want to be your friend, and I will always be there for you. I know that you’re going to find some very lucky mare who is going to be very happy to be with you and make you very happy,” she said.
A moment later, a busty, anthropomorphic minx character appeared on Coco’s screen. The figure was Cheri’s personal digital assistant, Dolly. With a buoyant blonde mane, and a sleek, milky coat, the digital minx just oozed sultriness. The dazzling azure eyes of the figure met with Coco’s; it then proceeded to speak.
“Why hello there, Sugah,” Dolly cooed, “long time, no see!”
“Same to you, Dolly,” Coco replied with a small smile on her face, “what have you been up to?”
“Oh, ya know,” Dolly answered, “been here, there, everywhere. Tryin’ to keep up with Little Cheri’s suitors is like catchin’ greased lightnin’.”
“I can imagine,” Coco smirked, “so she’s been keeping you busy?”
“Sure as shootin’,” Dolly said, “between you an’ me, Ah think she’s tryin’ to avoid some of these here fellas’ An’ judgin’ by the message ya just left, I’d understand why.”
Coco nodded, then asked, “How long have you known?”
“Oh, forevah, Sugah,” Dolly replied, “tarnation, that silly filly has been gaga over girls since she first activated me! Did you know Ah was her first real relationship since the Anthromorph Law was passed?”
Coco’s look of surprise was unfeigned, “No! You’re kidding!”
“Ah wish Ah was, Sugah,” Dolly quipped, “heck, even then, I knew she swung the bat for the same team. Subtle cues in her voice an’ all. Plus, she treated me like I was some holographic eye candy, not that Ah minded much.”
“That is so surreal,” Coco responded, “I never really knew.”
“Mmhmm,” Dolly hummed, then added, “trust me, that one has been chasin’ skirts a long while now. She’d give Cotton Eye Joe a run fer his money.”
“Well, you’ll be sure that Cheri gets my message, right?”
“Does a hog love slop?” Dolly asked, “Don’t worry, Sugah, if’n Ah hafta drone it in her sleep and blare it while she’s home, Ah’ll see ta it she gets it.”
“Thanks, Dolly!” Coco says with a bright smile.
“Don’t mention it, Sugah!” Dolly says with a wink, then, “I hope all goes well with that stud o’ yers. He’s a looker, that one, and make no mistake. If’n weddin’ bells are in th’ future, don’t hesitate in invitin’ meh, would ya?”
Coco couldn’t help but laugh. Dolly’s down home persona coupled with very vast wit and sharp humor always made the mare smile. In her own way, Dolly was a lot like Julia, but with a Mild West twist.
“Oh, you know I wouldn’t forget you, Dolly. You or Cheri!”
“Much obliged, Sugah,” Dolly said, then after a brief pause, “Ah oughtta letta go. Cheri done showed up and she’s already half a quart into some Death by Chocolate and half that Cherry Schnapps is gone…”
With a swish of her digital tail and a blink, Dolly was gone. Julia had returned, beaming, and whisking a bowl of something unidentifiable.
“Will that be all, Miss?” Julia asked.
“Yes, Julia, thank you,” Coco answered.
Coco breathed out in relief. She had been concerned that her words to Cheri could have lead her to do something foolish, but seeing that she was home, and that Dolly could watch over her, she felt better. She knew that Dolly’s failsafe programming, like Julia’s, would cause her to call emergency services if they were needed. She put the now darkened tablet down, gave the costumes one more once over, and then she grabbed her purse.
Miles had already paid for her ticket. He’d said that if he couldn’t come and personally get her, then the least he could do was pay for her way there. She knew that her train would be leaving before too long, and honestly she was ready for it. Her walk out of the casino, down the strip, and to the station was fairly uneventful. The same types of people roamed around the area. The tourists that came to Las Vegas looking to get rich, the ones that actually came for the shows and entertainment, and of course the ponies, or rather the beings, that lived here rushing to their jobs, heading home, or out to get a bite to eat.
She neared the station and walked inside. Miles had said that it was paid for, and that she could get the copy at either an automated kiosk, or she could use a living ticket vendor that worked for the train company. She walked toward a kiosk, and when she stood in front of it an animated figure appeared. It was dressed in engineer clothes from an older age, looking much like the engineers from back in Equestria, and there was a large smile on its face.
“Welcome to Amtrak Las Vegas! I’m Eugine the Engineer! How may I help you today?” the simpler Digital Assistant asked.
“I have a ticket waiting for me, Coco Pommel,” she replied.
“Very good, please place your thumb in the red indention and I shall retrieve it for you,” he replied.
She did as he said and within a moment there was a small ding and a ticket printed out.
“There we go, Right as rain! Thank you for using Amtrak!”
She grinned at the digital assistant, headed toward the platform where her train should be coming, and waited. It rolled up, a sleek, shiny, and breathtakingly beautiful machine. Most of the trains that came through were the normal nearby town kinds. Trains that were a holdover from older days. Converted to run off of solar power, but still large and bulky.
This train looked as if it had been designed based off of a bullet. It gleamed with its shiny metallic side, the way it was shaped like a cylinder, and the low sloping noses on both ends of it seemed to indicate that this train was indeed built for speed. She stepped inside and was escorted to a private riding room.
“Here you go miss,” the conductor said, “The cross country train will be departing in a few minutes. As I understand it your destination is Denver, Colorado right?”
Coco nodded. He looked at a schedule and smiled warmly.
“Very good, then your wait time isn’t going to be too bad. Roughly it will be about seven hours. We might shave some time off if the tracks are mostly clear. The meal trolley will be coming through shortly, and please, get what you like, the meals have all been paid for.”
She grinned and nodded. He gave her another warm smile, and she watched as he walked back toward the open door. In minutes the train began to move, and she felt the first surge forward before it became incredibly calm. She leaned back, enjoying the cushioned seat, looking around the posh sitting around her. The seats seemed to be a combination of memory foam with a tightly knitted cotton covering. The walls were different from the futuristic outside of the train. Instead they were covered with dark stained wood and brass. The evidence of anything that seemed to be futuristic was the large black flat screen monitor that hung on the opposite wall.
After a moment it turned on, and she was once again greeted with another Digital Assistant. This one a top hat wearing individual. Like the engineer he was friendly enough, more than happy to lend a hand, and of course asking if she would like to watch anything on Amtrak’s database. The offers of the recent boxing match in Las Vegas, the Ballet in Neigh, no New York, and lastly the large collection of movies at their disposal. She politely thanked him, and indicated that while she wasn’t really wanting to watch anything she would like to take a chance to read.
At that point he brought up the entire list of books in the Amtrak library, including something called Fifty Shades of Grey. She could have swore that the book was actually called Fifty Shades of Hay, but perhaps that was just the version written in Equestria. She decided against it, and instead she found herself looking the novelization of Rocky. Reading the summary she decided to give it a try.
The hours passed she read the book, as torturous as it was for her. At times, she considered having the digital assistant close it. The descriptions were terrible. A boxer had been a leg breaker for a local loan shark, and from there it described the kinds of conditions that he lived in, and when she was ready close it she found hope. He was interested in a young woman. Seeing something in her that she didn’t even see in herself. Wanting to prove himself, and to give her a life better than what they had he tried to move on to just boxing. That was when what looked like a gift was dropped in his lap. She read through the book, and there was a line, a small bit of dialogue, that actually seemed in tune with what the Earth Ponies believed.
“Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean and nasty place and I don't care how tough you are it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard ya hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done!” she read the words.
Those words, about taking what was being dished out, and still moving forward, that was hopeful. It was part of what she saw in Miles. He was determined, and to be quite honest it was something she found attractive about him. He was a human stallion, but his heart, how he had shown it so far, was that of an Earth Pony. She heard the door, and saw the trolley there with a Gryphon hen behind it.
“Miss, we’re less than two hours away from our destination, but since you were so absorbed in your book earlier I didn’t want to bother you. However, would you like your evening meal? We’ve got a few choices available. Fried asparagus, oat burgers, catfish, peach fritters, peach pie, and lastly cheese pizza.”
Feeling her stomach rumble Coco looked over the list and settled for an oat burger and the fried asparagus.
“Excellent choices Miss. I’ve heard the oat burgers are quite good. Apparently our chef has learned how to cook them just the way most people seem to like them.”
Once she had her meal Coco began eating. The gryphon hen wasn’t wrong, the oat burger was indeed fantastic. She hadn’t had such a good one since leaving Equestria, but then again she didn’t need to eat too much of them. She was a firm believer that an Earth Pony should have some extra mass on them, but she did like having a slightly more lithe body. Slowly she felt the train slowing. It wasn’t overly obvious, but she could feel the light tug on her every so often indicating that they were preparing to stop.
Finally, the train did stop, and she could see the station. The door opened, on its own, and she gathered up her belongings. Stepping out of the train the first thing she noticed was Miles. He was standing there, wearing a light jacket, blue jeans, a pair of work boots, and before she could really even think about it she rushed toward him, wrapping her arms around him, and kissed him. She felt his large arms around her, the crushing, and wonderful, hug he was giving, and she returned it.
She realized how much she had missed him, and in realizing that she began to realize how much he actually meant to her. He was her special somepony. She giggled at the thought. She had a special somepony, and he had one too.
“Happy to see you, too,” Miles joked, “if I had known I was going to get tackled, I would have brought my shoulder pads.”
“Oh, right, sorry,” Coco said, bemused. She let go of him with a bright blush across her muzzle.
“It’s okay,” Miles admitted, “you don’t hit nearly as hard as Smith Yearedly. That guy could wreck a Mack Truck with that right hook of his.”
“Oh, please, no,” Coco exclaimed, “no more boxing!”
Confused, Miles asked, “Why not?”
“Oh, it’s just,” Coco said, “today, I’m getting all this new information to process and I just read ‘Rocky’ and I don’t think I can handle any more sports analogies!”
Miles shook his head, smiling, and said, “Don’t worry, you won’t be hearing me talk shop. This weekend is about you and I and the beauty of the Rocky Mountains. Are these your bags?”
Miles stepped around the seamstress to gather her suitcases. The bags she had were heavy by her standards, but Miles picked them up with relative ease. And I thought Applejack’s brother was strong! Coco though as she followed him. They walked toward the short term parking lot and she could see his Ram truck sitting there. Her special somepony carefully arranged her luggage into the bed of his truck. After securing the cargo, Miles held out his hand to Coco and bustled her into the cabin. Like the last time she had rode in it the truck smelled like him. It reflected his personality, and she let a small smile cross her lips as she let the feeling, smell, and comfort of the truck waft over her.
He then climbed in beside her. She looked toward him, and could see him turning the key and waiting for it to indicate that it was ready to start. When it did he turned the ignition on over and soon the truck was rumbling to life. They pulled out and she looked toward the mountains he spoke of. They were certainly proud, beautiful peaks. A layer of white already covered the tops of them, and she could understand what he meant. The town they drove through was a different type of charm than that of Las Vegas.
“We’re going to my place here in Denver,” Miles explained, “I’d take to the cabin, but the place isn’t insulated and it’s colder than Satan’s heart in the mountains now. Besides, my place has a charm on it’s own I think you’ll like.”
“I look forward to it,” Coco said, “from the way you described it, it sounds delightful.”
“I think so,” Miles replied, “I’ve been restoring the thing since I made World Heavyweight Champion. My agent keeps telling me I should live it up, but that’s not how I was raised. Other fighters can roll in Bentleys and Mercedes-Benz’s, but I’ll take a good old truck and a two story house anyday.”
Driving through Denver was certainly a different experience in and of itself. It felt like somepony had simply stepped back in time, and were seeing things as they existed quite some time ago. There was the occasional modern building, but mostly it appeared that most of the buildings were in fact beautiful in their older charm. That’s when she noticed the house they were pulling into. It wasn’t overly large, but certain big enough for a family. The yellowish white walls of it looked beautiful, and she could see how it had been cared for. Inside of the house was different. She could feel the hardwood floor, see the time spent on each inch of it, and she even noticed how the home looked inviting.
Walking in the large monitor in the room sprang to life, spewing out current events, local weather, and the President’s stance on the purists demanding to be separated from the union into their own country. That was something she was more than happy to forget about. Even in Las Vegas they had to deal with the self proclaimed Purists who claimed that all non human life was an abomination. Luckily it was few and far between that it happened. Mainly because the casino owners didn’t tolerate the purists creating a volatile environment.
Miles quickly shut the monitor off and gave a sheepish grin.
“Sorry about that. It’s set to come on when there’s movement in the room. I keep forgetting to change the setting.”
She smiled and shook her head.
“It’s fine. So, what do you say to giving me the grand tour?”
He nodded, and holding out his hand he began to show her around the house.
Author's Note
(Wow! So another chapter down. Both of us wanted to take this moment to thank everybrony for reading. It’s been a blast to write this story, and we’re not done yet. There’s still several more chapters to go.)
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
As Ye Sew So Shall ye Rip
A Coco Pommel in the Vogonverse Tale
The First Time
Morning found Miles slowly blinking awake. Like so many nights he had went to bed without a stitch of clothing on. He knew that when he got up he could easily dress before leaving his room, and be somewhat presentable upon seeing Coco. Still, there was something soft and warm in his bed. The texture reminded him of when he had a fight in Oklahoma City.
There had been a very hyperactive pink pony girl there that had insisted on providing snacks for all of the children that came with their parents to the fight. When she noticed that he was taking time to sign autographs, pose for pictures with the kids, and actually answer their questions she had ran and hugged him. He remembered how soft her fur was, and it felt similar to that. The difference this wasn’t just on the cheek. He could feel it down his chest, against his groin, and it felt wonderful.
Slowly his eyes came into focus and he noticed the blue haired body next to him. His arm was around her, her hand holding his own, and she looked peaceful. The both of them lay under the blanket together and he suddenly found himself fighting against his own body to try and keep from having his normal morning wood. The way she was positioned it would most certainly be felt, and he wasn’t wanting her to think that he was only interested in her for that reason. Then again, he remembered going to bed alone last night. He certainly didn’t go and get her out of her bed, so that left the question as to what was her motives.
“Mmmmm, this is nice,” she mummered.
“Coco,” he said softly.
“Mmmm?” was her reply.
“Coco, not that I mind, but what are you doing in my bed?”
She turned, and he felt her nude fur covered body against his flesh. His biological impulses were raging, demanding to be released, and it was a battle of wills at this point. Him against his body. He could do this. He could go the distance, and he would make sure that she wouldn’t think that he only thought of her as a piece of tail.
“It was cold in my room, and I wanted to cuddle.”
She snugged against him, her breasts now pressed against his chest. Quietly he begged that his body hold out for just a bit longer. The truth was that he knew he was fighting a losing battle. Despite being able to think, to focus, to see things as a sapient being should be able to see them, Miles was still a man. He was bound to the same biological rules that any other man was bound to. His body had picked up on a beautiful, nude, and sweet member of the opposite sex in the bed with him. The fight he was having with his own body was ending, and he was going to be both the winner and the loser at the same time.
To her credit Coco didn’t get angry when she felt it. He knew she had to feel it, after all, it finally sprang to life right there. He felt her hand move down his chest, her eyes opened, and a small smile appeared on her face.
“Morning,” she said.
He felt her hand, the touch of it, as it slightly touched his now elongated and rigid member. She leaned forward, kissing him fully on the lips, her hand now gently grazing up and down his shaft, causing him to buck his hips automatically. He wasn’t sure how long he was going to last, what she was going to do, and then she pulled her hand away.
“Breakfast sounds good, how about I cook us something?” she asked.
His eyes widened in disbelief as she got up. She smiled at him, but it was a teasing smile indicating that she knew what she had done, but her eyes lingered on him for longer than she had intended.
Coco giggled as she walked out of the room. She liked Miles, actually, it was getting to be more than liked It had been well past liked for a while now. She was falling in love with him, and it warmed her so much inside. She made her way down to the kitchen he had shown her, and at the moment, she wasn’t that concerned about being nude.
There was curtains over the windows, so no need to worry if somepony was going to be looking in on them. Instead she was enjoying the feel of the house in her most natural form. The kitchen was just as breathtaking as it had been last night. The stove was something from a simpler time. Designed to work with both wood or gas, it was made of solid iron with a brass inlay on the hull. A small stack of wood and a hand-pumped bellows stood on one side of the stove; on the other was a curious contraption that Coco was unsure the nature of. Blackened steel and round, with a hinged lid built into the top, it was like the stove but the stovepipe didn’t connect to it.
What is this? Coco mused. She didn’t linger long on the device; her hunger was fighting for dominance of her cognitive functions. She reached for a handle, hearing a soft hiss and quickly she turned it off. She could smell a faint hint of rotten eggs in the air around the stove, and a foal hood memory of smelling the same smell at her grandmother’s house came to her. Her grandmother had turned a handle, grabbed some matches, and used them to light the stove. She looked around and found a small box of matches. Once again she turned the handle, lit a match, and moved it toward the hissing sound. At once a flame flickered to life.
She opened Miles refrigerator, another holdover from a simpler time, and found a carton of eggs, a wedge of cheese, some milk, and a small bag of peppers. With a grin she began working on omelets for the both of them. As she worked the memory of what she felt, seen, and almost claimed completely came back to her. There was no doubt that had Miles been born on Equestria some filly would have claimed him long ago.
She grabbed a small mixing bowl, the milk, the cheese, a cheese grater, and the peppers. She first cracked the eggs. It always amazed her how the eggs looked so different from when they actually cooked. She had considered creating a clothing line that actually changed color depending on the temperature of the room, or area that a pony was inclined to be. What had stopped her was the amount of magic it would take, or at least that was what stopped her back in Equestria.
She could create something like that here, maybe even create something that responded to pressure. Undergarments that revealed to lovers that they were indeed ready. She thought about standing in front of miles in some self made lingerie that reacted to her mood. Going from white to a royal purple, the same shade of color the head of his….
She stopped what she thinking and looked at the bowl in front of her. She had already mixed the eggs, the cheese, and was now preparing to cut the peppers. She shook her head and went back to work. She wanted this breakfast to go well. After all, she did want to make up for leaving Miles in such a state.
As she worked on their breakfast Miles was trying to deal with his case of blue balls in a way that wouldn’t end with him leaving a stain on the bed, or at least a crusty spot. He thought of unsexy things, which ended up turning into Coco. Each thought changed from how she looked, how she smelled, then to how her pert ass felt against him. His mind lingered there. Coco was beautiful, her entire body a temple, and it would be wrong to desecrate it without permission.
Still despite his best efforts he couldn’t focus on anything to make his pent up need simply disappear. He got up, conscious of the fact that he was sticking out further than normal, and made his way toward the bathroom. Once in it, he turned on the shower, set the water to cold, and instantly regretted getting into the shower. He nearly wanted to scream as the cold water rushed over him, but where simple will had failed him he now, the chilly liquid stopped his biological urges dead. The shock of the frigid water turned his erection from turgid to limp in an instant. Thank God for small favors, Miles thought.
He set himself to scrubbing down, cleaning himself up as he would normally do. A tough, pumice soap was used on his body, followed briefly by a much softer body wash, then some 2-in-1 shampoo, followed by a rinsing of his body to clean off any residual suds. Shutting down the shower, he stepped out onto the bathroom floor, shivering in the chill that crept in from underneath the doorway. He wrapped a towel around his head and proceeded to take a larger towel to dry himself. After a few minutes of toweling off, he removed the towel from his head and began the process of getting dressed.
Out on the road, while training, Miles would outfit himself in tracksuits or sweats. The warming material of those clothes meant he wouldn’t suffer hypothermia in his usual training region, the Rocky Mountain Slopes. At home, though, he preferred a more relaxed look. A hooded sweatshirt paired to jeans and some Chucks would be his more nominal casual wear. Miles thanked God, also, for the fact that he did laundry just yesterday, so his hamper wasn’t overflowing with soiled underwear or stained t-shirts…
The thought of Coco seeing the monster that would be his dirty laundry sent a shiver of embarrassment through him. Since their first date, the days that followed, and their calling each other, he’d fallen hard for her. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her to see him in even the slightest bit of a bad light. The moment his shoes were tied he walked his way down stairs. When he reached the kitchen he was greeted to the sight of a beautiful mare, nude as the day she was born, placing two plates on the table. The way she was bent, how she looked, all of it caused the blood to rush back toward the place he had worked so hard to get it away from.
Walking toward the table he pulled a seat back, letting her sit down.
“You got dressed?” she asked.
“Yeah, I… Sorry, I” he began before she stopped him.
She held his hand, pulling him gently down, and her mouth found his own. The kiss was full of promise, and there was no hint of teasing there. She broke the kiss, her eyelashes batting bashfully at him. He slowly took his own seat, right next to her, and the smell of the food began to overtake him. He felt her hand on his own, her eyes looking into his own, and finally the thing that interrupted the moment was the sound of two stomachs growling.
A sheepish smile crossed her lips, “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied as he looked at the breakfast, “Thanks for this.”
She cut her own omelet, and when she was through there was a perfectly formed triangle wedge ready to be eaten.
“You’re very welcome, and please, don’t worry about it. I enjoy cooking, and you had more than enough for me to work with,” she replied.
They began to eat, and instantly the amazing taste of the simple dish washed over him. He knew that she was a seamstress, but there was no doubt in his mind that she could have easily been a hell of a cook as well. He turned toward her when she let out a soft moan. He watched as she swallowed her bite, cut another wedge, and again she slipped it between her lips. It was simply eating a bit of the omelet, nothing else, and yet it was incredibly erotic.
He ate, as gracefully as he could, but he became more and more distracted as she continued to slowly devour her breakfast. The more base, animalistic side that was buried under generations of cultivation and social evolution began to express a deep desire to ravish and lay claim to the beautiful creature at his table. He’d heard tales about boxers back in the twentieth century who had given in to that side. Jared had told him the story about Mike Tyson, what he had done, and how it was a struggle for the boxer to get out of being stigmatised as what he had done.
Still, at that moment, Miles could understand what Tyson may have felt. But he resolved not to simply give into his more base side. It took so precious little time for them to finish their breakfast. Coco rose from her seat, giving Miles a winning smile, and as she walked her tail lifted, swinging to the left, and giving him a full view. She looked back at him, “Do you mind to show me where the shower is again?”
Getting up he walked toward her, and felt her hand slip into his own. They began to ascend the stairs, and as they walked his mind began to switch into a more autopilot mode. They reached the bathroom, opening it up and Coco looked at the tub, the floor, and then she turned toward him. Her hand brought his own up, and he moved in toward her. They kissed, again, but once they had he moved back.
“I… Uh… yeah, I’ll let you take your shower,” he said.
She watched as he walked back, a soft smile on her lips, her eyes mapping every part of him, especially below the belt, and she could see what was struggling to stand proud. Once he was out she slowly shook her head. Sure, she knew that she was falling for him. She could feel it, but even doing that it seemed unlikely that she’d basically be doing everything she could to arouse him.
She touched the water, feeling its warmth, and stepped into the stream they had started. She let the water cascade down her, feeling it touch every part of her, and slowly as she began to wash she rubbed herself. Her eyes opened as she moaned. It sounded lewd, unlady like, and full of the promises that a mare would give to her special somepony. Her eyes widened as she realized she had entered her estrus.
Sweet Luna’s teats, I’m in heat! she thought.
The realization did nothing to really calm her. Instead it brought the fact that there was a stallion, that she had deep feelings for, in the room next to her. A stallion that she wanted to take her, make her his mare, and do it over, and over again. As she showered she tried to relieve some of the tension that her heat had brought to her, but she found her fingers, while nimble and quick, to be a poor substitution for what she honestly wanted.
She finished the shower, smelling like his body wash, smelling like him, and feeling the flames of her heat rising higher than before. As she stepped out she felt the ancient part of her, the ancient ponies that all Equestrians descended from, climbing up and out. There was a clear path before her. She could smell Miles, how potent he was, how interested he was, and she needed that. She would have fought the heat, but there was no need. Her body was telling her that this was right. He was the one she was meant to be with, and he was the one that she was going to want for the rest of her life.
She grabbed two towels, drying briefly until she couldn’t stand it anymore. She walked out and headed toward his room. Once inside of it she saw him, lying back on his bed, his pride standing tall, and she moved toward the door frame.
Lying there he looked up at her. She stood in his doorway, her bottom lip slightly sucked in and being held by her teeth. There was no doubt that this was something they both wanted, something they needed. She didn’t say a word, but instead she walked toward his bed, crawling in beside him, her hands finding the hem of his jeans.
Author's Note
-Insert jazzy saxophone melody here.-
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
As Ye Sew So Shall Ye Rip
A Coco Pommel in the Vogonverse Tale
Afterglow
Coco stirred awake, her estrus fogged mind clear for a moment, and she felt the warm body behind her. She was glad it was with Miles, she really was. A yawn escaped her, and she shifted in bed only to feel his softened stallionhood slide out with a pop. There was no lie that she felt full. Miles had performed far better that she thought possible. It wasn’t like she had much of an idea of what it was like to be taken by a stallion. Recently, she had been simply dealing with her heat with a small collection of toys, all of which she had left back home, and maybe there was a small part of her that wanted to leave them there.
Before that Rarity had been a primary outlet during her estrus. Her generous friend had usually thought to bring a cooler, and typically it would be after hours in ‘Rarity For You’ that they would help each other. Still, that had been different. It was also different from when she and Cheri helped each other out. Cheri was a passionate vixen, granted, but Coco could never quite be sated after a session with her. Cheri often referred to those sessions as “being a friend with benefits.” It was hard to explain exactly what she meant by that, but it had been quite unlike what had occurred with Miles.
One keen difference she could determine between what she did with her friends and what she and Miles just did was the feeling of completeness. Miles was still lodged in her core and even though he was still asleep, she could still feel the throbbing veins along his shaft. The warmth from her core added to the heat of his erection, making for a soothing sensation deep inside her. No cooler could ever make that happen. Nor could any of her friends make her feel safe and secure in their arms; Miles’ warrior style exercise regimen forged his body into something like thunder steel. Coco may have been trapped within his reach, but it a comfortable little prison sentence.
She would have preferred to stay that way, with Miles buried in her depths, but a combined series of events conspired to disrupt this little moment of harmony. First, Coco realized she had to pee, then the phone rang, Miles awoke with a start and dislodging himself from her; he subsequently fell from bed and landed on his rump, cursing. She couldn’t help but giggle at his flailing.
“Son of a…” Miles grumbled as he slowly pulled himself up.
She took a moment to really look at him. There’d been stallions she had measured before for suits. Several of the Manehattan elite, who had came in and wanted the latest in fashion. One of them was an Earth Pony named Vega Vines. He’d come in with his friend Jewels Whinnyfield, and she knew that the two of them worked for Manecellous Wallace. They were customers, nothing else, but she remembered Vega having the body of a pony that had done some hard work.
Miles blew Vega away. His back, ass, and legs looked like the statues of the Greek Gods she’d seen in Vegas. A primal part of her wanted to pull him back down into the bed, have him take her, or maybe her take him. But, she held off, hearing him answer the phone.
“Mickey? What’s going on?” he asked.
“Fight? Yeah, I know the heavyweight title, sure, I’m up for a heavyweight bout, but Mickey, I’m still training,” he paused for a moment, “Rasputin? You mean Draco? Hell’s Bells Mickey, that guy ain’t a joke.”
She watched as he stood there for a moment, “No, I know, look, he’s climbed his way up the ladder, I have to give him a shot. So, what did I hear about Manny, yeah, Manny Walton?” he was quiet for several minutes, “Jesus, really? Oh fuck, Manny was good too. How long?” she read his posture, “Oh shit… Two rounds. Just two rounds? Damn it… No, no, I’ll keep the training up. Set it with his manager. Thanks Mickey.”
She watched as he took a seat on the bed. The worry showed in every stiff muscle, every rigid line in his back. She got on her knees, and moved toward him. Without asking, or saying a word she sat down behind him, spreading her legs out and moved up close to him. She hugged his back, and then slowly she began to rub it.
It was meant to be soothing, comforting, and it began to work. He leaned into her digilant hands, letting her take the lead as she rubbed the stiffness out of his back. She stopped after several minutes and pulled him up against her. He made a soft soothing sounding sigh and seemed to completely relax.
“I could really get used to this,” he said.
The truth was, so could she. She could get used to it. She wanted to help him, make him happy, and she knew that he wanted to do the same for her. She felt her breasts squishing against his back, and she knew that he could feel them as well. Slowly, he broke the hold, turned toward her, and kissed her deeply. A smile crossed her muzzle. She wanted to make him relax, she wanted to make him feel good, but she’d be lying if she didn’t admit that she wanted this well.
She certainly needed to feel him inside of her. To feel his length and thickness pushing into her, taking her, and there was so much she wanted to do. She moved to lay back, pulling him with her, and she felt his body on hers. Her legs were already open, and she felt the stirring of his length already. Her mouth opened, an invitation, and he accepted. His tongue found her own, and together they danced. The swirling, feeling, and it only added to the joy she was feeling.
His strong hands moved on her sides, stopping near her hips, and she felt him softly cupping her cutie marks. The tip of his stallionhood touching her lower lips, daring to part them, and then she felt it, the need she felt earlier. Her eyes widened as she realized that she needed to go now!
She pushed him up, gently, and her brow showed her awkward, and embarrassing, feeling toward what she had to say.
“I… Miles, I have to go, to the bathroom.”
A gentle smile crossed his lips, he moved over, and she got up. She moved, quickly, out of the room, across the hall, and into the master bathroom. She no sooner made it to the toilet, and sat down, then it escaped her. Her breath came out and she thought about what just happened. Would he still be in the mood? She was, by Luna’s sweet velvety snatch was she still in the mood!
She finished, wiped, and headed back toward the bedroom. He was still there, still undressed, and she could see that he was still interested and in the mood. A happy sounding whinny escaped her lips, and she moved toward him. He started to get up, but she placed a hand on him, indicating that she wanted him to remain seated. She instead went to her knees. Looking ahead she saw her prize. The large purplish head stuck out at her, and roughly she guessed that it was easily the size of a nectarine. She opened her mouth, taking the head in, and swirled her tongue around it.
She tasted him, his musk, and herself. She pulled back, spotting part of the sheet, wiping him off slightly, and then took him back into her mouth. She moved down, feeling the texture of his shaft, the way it moved into her mouth, and she stopped before it could go to the back of her throat. She pulled back, and looked up at him. She fluttered her eyelashes coyishly at him, and nearly wanted to titter at the way he blushed.
She took him into her mouth, ignoring the taste of her own passion on him. She wanted to do this, to make him feel good, and she felt him resting a hand on the back of her head. He wasn’t pushing, but it felt surprisingly good to have him doing this. She felt him pull back, and she felt confused for a moment before he helped her to the bed. Before she could blink he had traded positions with her, and suddenly he was doing for her what she had been doing for him. She felt herself so close, “I want you.”
She hadn’t believed those words left her lips. She did want him, but she hadn’t said it. To her surprise, he didn’t disappoint. Instead he moved up to her, moved inside of her, and she wrapped her legs around him. This was what she was wanting. This was what she had been needing. She cried out in ecstasy as they gave each other to one another again. It was what she needed, what she wanted, and by Celestia it felt amazing.
They lasted for such a long time, and when they were done she was once again snuggled against him. He was no longer inside of her, which in and of itself could be a good thing. She considered what to do. The day was wearing on, and evening was already here. Her estrus was less demanding now, which was fantastic, although she knew it would flare up again. Still, she wanted to do something for them both. A nice meal, something to drink, and she could potentially do it all from here. Smilingly sweetly she got up, and noticed that Miles’ eyes had closed. She wasn’t going to complain. He had performed wonderfully, and she would indeed make them a wonderful dinner, and then she’d reclaim her prize.
She walked down stairs, remembering to grab her cell phone, and accessed Julia from it.
“Hello dear! My, it looks as though you’ve been rather busy,” Julia said.
She grinned and looked at the refrigerator, “Julia, I want to make a dish for Miles. Something with fish, but something special. Something that would show him that I lik… no, that I love him.”
“Ah, well there is no quicker way to a man’s heart than from his stomach, I believe I have a wonderful recipe that should provide all that you want to say, and express, into a wonderful little French number. Let’s see, we need butter, I suggest Rider Farm’s butter since it is actual butter and not synthetic, Flounder, flour, garlic, salt, and some red wine. I seem to be unable to connect with his refrigerator, would you be willing to check it for me?”
Coco looked into it, “Oh, he’s out of butter, there’s no fish at all, and it looks like he doesn’t have any flour. He does have some garlic though, and I see a salt container,” Coco replied.
“Well, then if you don’t mind I’ll connect to a local grocery and order what we need. Would you like the fish to be fresh?” Julia asked.
“Yes, the freshest that they can send,” Coco replied.
“Wonderful, wonderful!” Julia exclaimed, “it will be delivered forthwith! You should be receiving your ingredients in twenty minutes. The total shall be deducted from your account.”
“Thank you, Julia,” Coco said, beaming, “if I’m to receive a delivery, I should find a house coat or something.”
Her new objective in mind, Coco searched the house for a robe or house coat; lucky enough, she found a bathrobe just long enough to keep her modesty. The article was discovered in the first floor bathroom. It wouldn’t allow much room for her tail, but she reasoned she wouldn’t be wearing it for all that long. EVen better, half of her wait time had been eroded in search of raiment.
Her heat fluctuated high and low as she readied the kitchen for the feast she was preparing. Even after a thorough satiation by MIles, she still felt the fire of estrus like an inferno in her lions. Her core, still slick with Miles fluid, was burning up again, and try as she might, Coco was having difficulty keeping her hands to herself. She bitterly regretted not going upstairs and retrieving her panties. AT the very least, that might take a modicum of the edge off.
If she were truthful with herself, though, the sojourn upstairs would only result in further mating, as her heat began to build to a crescendo. Her heart rate, breathing, and even perspiration climbed, just thinking of the virile male asleep in the master bedroom. She had push those thoughts aside to keep from charging back up there and having her way with him. It was a small smile of relief that the doorbell rang.
“Just coming!” Coco exclaimed and trotted to the door.
Upon opening the portal, she was met with a young man in a uniform of some sort, with the name “Donovan” emblazoned over the left breast of his polo shirt and hauling bags in both hands. Over a scruffy mane of sandy blonde hair was a maroon cap bearing a seafood motif logo which had the words, “Pacific Mercantile Company,” stitched in navy. The bags in the young colt’s hands also bore the same logo as did the delivery van the colt drove in.
“Are you Coco Pommel?” Asked the colt in a dreary voice, and after receiving a nod from the mare, he continued, “Delivery for you.”
“Oh, thank you!” The mare said cheerfully, taking the four grocery bags on her hands and placing inside of the front door. When the colt handed her a tablet, she saw the Pacific Mercantile Company logo in it's frame; the tablet displayed a receipt of all the items Julia had ordered for her. She was being billed ninety-eight credits. Lower on the bill, there was a delivery charge of five credits and then a blank space for a tip. She thought moment about what she should enter there and decided she wanted an even bill. She left Donovan with a 22 credit tip.
“There you go,” Coco said with a smile, “have a nice day!”
Donovan took the receipt, glanced at the tablet and started to walk off. Then he stopped, glanced back at the tablet, and smile started on his face.
“You- you, too, ma’am,” Donovan replied, “have yourself a nice day.”
He entered the delivery van, started it up (the hum of the electric motor a far cry from Miles diesel machine,) he backed out of the drive and trundled his way back to town. Coco was sure the small smile she saw on him earlier had broken into a full on grin when he passed her by.
She watched as the van spd off down the mountain, then when it disappeared around the corner, she returned to her slowly defrosting ingredients. Bringing the haul back to the kitchen, where Julia was waiting on her smartphone, Coco began to sort out the foodstuffs. She also gathered the necessary utensils she would need to bring this recipe to life.
“Are you ready Ms. Pommel?” Julia asked.
“I’m ready,” Coco announced, disrobing because of her heat.
“Very well,” Julia beamed, “let us begin!”
Miles groaned as he slowly got up. He was tired, but the good kind of tired. It was the tired of a man that had pleased the woman, or in this case the mare, he was falling in love with. He sat up, feeling the stiffness of his body. There was a slight crash, and he stood up. Grabbing a pair of sweatpants he pulled them on and then headed down the stairs.
What waited for him was a mess in the making. Coco had ingredients laid out, and from the look of it she had been on the receiving end of some very warm water. He walked toward her, wrapping her hand in a towel, kissing it, and then proceeded to see what was left. She had filleted the fish she’d bought. Exceptionally fresh fish that would have only been fresher if they would have been pulled from a tank, there was peeled potatoes, and from the look of it she was attempting to poach them.
He proceeded to cut the potatoes, grabbed a large skillet, filled it halfway with oil, and then turned the heat on the stove. When the oil began to heat he began putting in the potatoes. He then grabbed the fish, smiled at her, and she walked over toward him.
“I wanted to do something special,” she said.
The sweet look on her face was enough to make his heart melt, “It’s okay, we’ll do this together.”
And together they began to bread the fish before putting it into another skillet that Coco had prepared. They cooked side by side, and he showed her how his antiquated stove worked. He let her know that it was a little temperamental and it did tend to be about five degrees hotter than it indicated on the knob. Slowly the smell of fried fish and potatoes began to fill the air, and after a few more moments it was ready. He helped her get everything onto a couple of platters, and then he grabbed the bread and some butter.
The two of them took a seat, and he watched as she bit into the fish. The expression on her face was one of pure bliss. He took a bite as well, and he had to admit it was pretty good. He hadn’t eaten much Flounder, but he could get used to having some flat fish from time to time. Coco seemed to savor each bite, and he did the same. He gathered the dishes, putting them into the sink, and then he saw her getting up, stretching across the table. Her tail lifted and flicked out of the way showing everything she had.
He walked toward her, gently touching her cutie mark, and she let out a soft moan.
“Are you trying to seduce me?” he asked.
“Maybe,” she purred.
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
A Coco Pommel Vogonverse Tale
Quiet Mountain Town
Coco’s P.O.V.
The store was something I had seen when she visited Rarity in Ponyville. At least it was similar to that store. Miles had talked me into seeing the sights, and part of those sights included a visit to the historic town of Independence. He’d explained that originally it had been something of a ghost town, or was, until someone bought it in an auction. When that happened they reopened the town as a tribute to the era it came from.
The store we were in at the moment was a clothing store. The floor was rough hewn, but it had been treated, so while it looked rustic it didn’t seem to be uneasy to walk on. The clothes I was looking at were something truly interesting. I touched the fabrics. Cotton, canvas, no synthetics at all. They were well made, but none of them were actually hand stitched. It wasn’t to say that they were done in an assembly line.
No, I could see the slight imperfections from gown to gown. Little telltale signs that each had been made independently. If I were to guess they were made using an older pattern, something most likely left over some of the original inhabitants of the town. My eyes stopped on one gown specifically. It was practically darling. It was designed to be worn with a corset, I realized that the bust was designed to be modest, but with enough flair to attract, and then there was the wonderful way it simply flowed. It was an older style, something a pony could wear for Nightmare Night, or Halloween rather, but certainly not an everyday occurrence. I was certain that Rarity would want to look at it as well.
A slight image of my friend making a similar dress and waiting for her husband in it popped into my head. There was little doubt that Rarity could, and would, do such a thing. She was one for the dramatic after all. Getting into a dress like this would certainly take some time. It wouldn’t be that difficult, but it would take a good bit of time to do. Of course, it would only make it even more satisfying to take the time to take it off before being with my stallion.
A slight alteration here and there would certainly transform this dress into a wonderful wedding gown. The thought certainly made the idea of being in it, and then having it taken off all the more appealing. I could imagine Miles as he held me, his hands working with the ties in the back, trying to loosen them, attempting to get the dress the point where it would slide off of my form. Oh, I could certainly enjoy a moment like that. Doing so would be amazing in so many ways.
I would forgo wearing a bra, because honestly there would be no reason for one. Although I would certainly wear something lacey, and provocative when it came to my panties. A nice pair of white stockings, garters, a garter belt, and a pair of elbow length gloves. Rarity would certainly want to assist in the creation of it, and I wouldn’t deny that of my friend. I looked at the dress and pictured the moment it hit the floor, Miles would lift me, most likely he would find the closest flat surface available, and then he would ravish me. I could imagine the way he would feel as he entered inside of me. I almost felt myself becoming wet at the mere thought. I grinned, the decision was certainly made at this point.
The dress would need work to become what I would want it to be, but I would be leaving with it today. I gathered it up, and I looked to see the attendant watching me. It wasn’t a look of distrust, or of anger, but rather instead it seemed to be a genuine interest. The attendant walked toward me, and smiled as she neared where I was looking at the dress itself.
“Well, I must say that this is quite the interesting choice, but I’ve always said that each dress would choose its owner,” she smiled, “And I do believe that this one has chosen you.”
I nodded, “It really has,” I looked at the store, “I must say that it is refreshing to find a store that offers handmade items like this.”
The attendant smiled broadly, “Why thank you,” she said as she carried the dress to the front, “I’ve always been fairly good at this, and when I found all of the original designs that my grandmother had come up with I figured that it would be a good idea to make and sell them.”
She looked toward the store, “I know it doesn’t look it, but there really is a market for well made dresses like these. Although most of it is through the internet,” she sighed, “As for actual physical customers I maybe get two or three a week.”
I looked at her in confusion, “That’s odd, this is the kind of place that would do really well in Las Vegas,” I said, “In fact I’m sure that you would have a steady stream of customers every single day.”
The woman smiled at her, “It’s certainly a nice idea, but I do hate to leave my home here,” she said gesturing to the store, “Sure, I would love to see more of my merchandise browsed by physical customers, but I’ve come to love this town.”
I smiled, “Well, have you considered opening a secondary store?”
The woman studied her, “Actually no, I haven’t.”
I grinned, “If you decide to let me know,” I said as she brought out a tablet, and activated Julia, “Julia, would you kindly connect with the digital assistant here and send my business card?”
“Of course!” Julia said enthusiastically. A few moments later the woman looked at the card and then back at me.
“You...You’re a lead designer for the MGM Grand,” she said as she looked at her, “Oh Wow, Umm, look if you believe that my work would do well there then I believe you. I still don’t want to move, but I’ll see about putting in a second store. Would it be in the MGM as well?”
I nodded, “Oh it absolutely would be located there. I’m certain that you’ll get a great deal on the store space, and I know that several of the employees would love your dresses, not to mention the general public at large.”
I paid for the dress, thanked her for her help, and then left the shop. I stepped out into the cold air and I loved the feeling of it. I felt someone behind me, and I turned to see Miles. Of course he had been in the store along with me, but he hadn’t tried to interject himself into the conversation that I had with the store owner. He had been respectful, and from what I could see he had also looked over the woman’s clothes as well.
The two of us began to walk down the street, and I found my hand slipping into his own. The nip in the air reminded me of the winter days and nights in Manehattan. The way it felt more alive simply because everyone was in more a rush to get in out of the cold. As we walked together the two of us entered into a small grocery. I looked over the store, at how it was set up more like an indoor marketplace, and Miles looked at me.
“Coco, I hope that you don’t mind, but part of the reason we came to Independence was because I need to train. I’ve got a cabin up in the mountains, and Independance happens to be on the way,” he smiled at me, “You’re welcome to stay at my town home if you want, or if you would rather we can go up to the cabin together. It would be a nice retreat, and I can promise you that the cabin itself is pretty cozy.”
I smiled, “Miles, I’d love to see it, and I’m fine with going,” I looked at the store, “So, I’m guessing that part of the reason we’re here is because you need to stock up on your groceries at this cabin?”
He nodded, “Yeah, I do,” he looked at her and then at the store itself, “So, I thought that maybe you could help pick a few things out that you might like as well.”
I smiled, kissed him, and together they walked toward the center of the store. I had grabbed a small cart, which was cute because it was actually designed similarly to a market cart like I had seen in Ponyville when she visited. The wooden rails on the side of the cart acted to keep everything in, and their first occupant was a ten pound bag of potatoes. I looked at the potatoes themselves, and I had gone through the process of finding the best bag available.
Part of being an Earth Pony was being able to feel the connection with the ground, and more so with the plants, fruits, and vegetables that came from it. The potatoes I selected were healthy, well grown, and seemed to be large and full. That meant that they would make flavorful dishes. I then walked with him toward the flour isle. He watched me as I chose some self rising flour, then I got a few pounds of cornmeal.
As we walked I could tell that he was noticing that I was mostly choosing food that was non-perishable. The potatoes were the exception, but even they had a long shelf life. I finished up my choices with a fifteen pound bag of beans. I then looked at the cart and nodded, “I believe that should keep even after we leave.”
He nodded, “That’s actually a good idea. I have some non-perishable food there, but not much. I didn’t think to get everything that you grabbed here.”
We made their way to the front, he paid for their groceries, and then we were helped to bag them. The employees informed us both that if we wanted we could pull their vehicle up closer and pick up the order. Miles nodded, and looked at me.
“I’ll go get the truck and pull on up, do you want to go with me?”
I smiled, “No, I’ll wait here with them, and then we’ll get it loaded.”
He nodded and walked out. As he did I looked at the employees, “Thank you for offering to load all of this for us.”
One of the employees shook her head, “It’s not a problem. We get paid to do it, and besides you both bought quite a bit of food here. It would only be right for us to load it up for you.”
After a few moments I looked outside to see Miles pulling up next to the building. I led them outside, and I watched as they loaded everything into the bed of the truck itself. Once it was loaded he began driving, and I watched as they turned onto an access road. The road was only paved for a couple of miles before the truck began to drive across what could be considered an old wagon trail. The deep ruts of the road seemed to be the only real indicator that there was even a road there.
I noticed that the further up they went the less of the road she could see. Finally they reached a small area where I saw a wooden building in the distance. I began helping Miles unload the groceries, and together we carried everything toward the cabin itself. When we reached it he put what he had in his arms down, and dug out an old key from his pocket. I studied this. In Manehattan, and the other places I had been in Equestria, there were traditional locks, but it was far less common here.
We stepped inside and together we walked toward the kitchen. I noticed right away that there was a wood stove, no refrigerator, and quite a bit of cabinet space. Miles quickly began to put everything up, and then we walked out together toward the truck and we finished getting everything. When we were finished I looked at the cabin again.
It was small, cozy was accurate, but it wasn’t so small that it was uncomfortable. The entertaining room had two sitting chairs, a couch, and what looked like a door in the floor to what had to be a cellar. Off to the left was the kitchen and dining area, and the right looked like there were a couple of other rooms. I felt Miles’ hands as he hugged me, and I leaned into it. The burning of my heat had died down, but I was still feeling the desire inside of me. I turned toward him, catching him in a kiss. My hands moved down to his jeans, unbuttoning them, lowering them, and then finding my prize.
“Miles, do you want to show me the bedroom?”
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
11 A Mare Worth Fighting For
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
A Mare Worth Fighting For
Miles’ P.O.V.
The trip to the bedroom was done while both of us were shedding clothes. The moment we made it into the small room with a modest full size bed we were both nude as the days we were born. I lifted Coco, feeling her legs wrap around my waist and I could feel the heat practically rolling off of her nethers. The tip of my rod had already begun to spear through her labia, and the intense heat was driving me insane. The bed in the cabin hadn’t been made since I was last up here, and that had been about a month ago.
We made our way toward it, and I sat down while holding onto Coco. I felt myself become completely seated inside of her, and she let out a luscious moan that sounded like music to my ears. I slightly lifted her, and then pulled her back down onto my rod. She moaned again, and her hips began to move, causing her to push further onto what she was speared on. I moaned myself as I felt her inner walls gripping me tightly.
“Miles, rut me, please, just rut me hard,” she begged.
I wasn’t one for making a woman beg, so I turned us over, allowing her to be on the bottom, and I began to give her everything that I could. I felt the velvet smoothness of her tunnel as she took me. I could feel the wonderful way she felt as we thrusted together. There would be time for slow, tender, and sweet lovemaking, I had no doubt of that, but at the moment I knew that what Coco wanted was some hardcore sex. She wanted it hard, she wanted to be wrecked, and I wanted to give her what she was asking for.
“Rut me!” she cried out as I began to thrust harder. My right hand slipped down between us, finding her clit, and I stroked it causing her to buck her hips faster and harder as I did. I was learning Coco’s body, and I knew that the way I was entering her was allowing me to hit her G-spot about every third thrust. Something I was getting rewarded by new scratches on my back.
Her moans became louder, her thrusts harder, and soon she began to move us. I felt myself lying on my back, and she was on top of me. There was a sort of blissful, slightly manic, look on her face as she thrusted harder. I felt her tighten inside, and then looked at me.
“Don’t just rut me… Breed me!”
She bounced on top of my shaft as she cried out in bliss. My hands found her hips, and I pulled her into each and every thrust. Her hands were on my chest, keeping her balanced, and at the same time allowing her hold onto me. We met in a thrust, and I saw her eyes open wide, her mouth take on a wonderful O shape, and then she fell forward. Sweat was the only thing covering us, and I felt the slight gush of liquid meaning that she had came, and came hard. I kissed her, rolled us back over, and then I grabbed her legs. I pulled them up, resting her ankles on my shoulders. There was surprise in her eyes as I began entering her again. She moaned in delight as we joined together once more, and I found myself just barely able to resist the urge to utterly destroy her in the most delicious way. Instead I took my time, giving her the slow comfortable, and loving round of lovemaking that I could.
She moaned softly, her pert breasts softly bounced, and then I felt her kiss me. She moved, and I wondered if perhaps she was too sore, but instead she turned around, getting onto all fours, and she looked back at me. I understood the unasked question for what it was. She wanted me to take her, and she wanted me to finish inside of her. I had no problem with either and I soon found myself completely seated inside of her.
“M...Miles I love you,” she panted.
“I love you too,” I replied nearly out of breath.
I felt myself getting close, and I reached under her waist, pulled her up and kissed her neck as I pumped her womb as full as I could. She let out a hitching moan, and then she relaxed into my embrace. We enjoyed that moment for what felt like an eternity. I knew it was seconds, or minutes at most, but I could honestly think of worse ways of spending eternity. Slowly we separated, and I realized that now I would have to change the sheets on the bed. Luckily enough I had a linen closet full of sheets, and more than a few blankets.
She looked toward me, and I saw a look I had hoped for when we went on that first date. It was a look of love, of want and acceptance. I kissed her, and she hugged me. Together we walked nude out of the room, and even though we were both warm from the incredible round of lovemaking we had just experienced I could feel the cold seeping in.
“Is there any way we can get a hot bath?”
I nodded, “There is,” I said as I walked toward the bathroom.
The cabin had been something that I had bought long ago. Whoever the original owner was had long since passed, and the state of Colorado hadn’t ever gotten around to either reclaiming the land or really even caring much about it. So when I found it, wrote down the location, and took it to the local county courthouse I found myself purchasing it the same day. To my surprise it was a mere ten credits. They didn’t really care about the cabin, or ,from what records they could find, the fifteen acres that surrounded it.
Most of it was a wooden area, pretty well devoid of the touch of technology. I was happy to mostly leave that alone. The one lone difference had been the purchase of a large diesel generator, battery packs, and a solar panel kit. The generator ran off of a mixture of used cooking oil and kerosine, and the solar panels collected what sunlight they could to charge the batteries for the ignition of the generator. It was located in an added on room of the cabin, with the exhaust vented through the wall.
I checked to make sure that the tank was full, and then I keyed the ignition. It took a moment for the glow plugs to indicate that they were ready, and then I started it. The diesel generator came to life. I looked at Coco.
“We should have hot water in a few minutes, but just give me a moment.”
I walked to the front door, cursing that I didn’t stop to get dressed, but it was fine. I stepped outside and cursed the fact that I hadn’t put the well house controls inside of the house like a normal person. I flipped the switch for the well house, which was on the front porch, and then I listened for a sound of anything breaking. When I didn’t hear an explosion marking the end of the well house I stepped back inside, closed the door, and walked toward the kitchen. I turned on the faucet and found that we had running water. I left it to drip.
I had replaced the original plumbing with PEX piping. For the most part it wouldn’t burst if frozen, which was certainly a bonus, but I didn’t want us to go without water at all. I checked the hot water tank and I could hear it filling. Lastly I grabbed wood from the storage box near the stove and I began adding a few pieces into the old wood stove before I grabbed a small can of charcoal lighter fluid, sprayed a little on it, and then threw a match inside. The reaction was instant, and I saw the fire dance across the few pieces of wood I had placed in there.
The fire began to spread nicely, and when I was certain that the wood would stay burning on its own I added a few more sticks. The fire began to turn into a nice roaring fire, and I closed the door, but left the vent on. The room began to warm considerably and I looked to see Coco as she neared the stove itself. She leaned into me, and I held her as the stove did its job well. Then together we walked toward the bathroom, and I showed her the tub.
It had been an ancient thing that was left in the cabin, and I couldn’t get rid of it. She grinned as she looked at it, and then she turned the water on. It sputtered for a moment and then she felt the water coming out. I could see from her reaction that it was still cold, although that changed, and she smiled as she let the tub fill. It had been a large thing, far larger than the cabin needed, and easily could fit two people.
She added a little of the coconut scented all in one shampoo to the water letting it act as a bubble bath and fill with bubbles, and then she motioned for me to climb into the tub. I did, and she followed suit. Neither of us had thought to grab a towel, but apparently I had been far more prepared the last time I had been here. Above us on the rack was a towel, and wash cloth.
She took the cloth, dipped it into the water, and then poured a little of the all in one onto it. Then I watched as she began to clean herself. She leaned forward, shut off the water, and then turned around toward me. I took the hint, took the cloth, and I began to wash her. Of course I paid special attention to her breasts, but I wanted to do more than just play with her. I wanted to help her, to clean her, and to be with her.
I worked the all in one into a lather on her, letting it get into her coat, and then I grabbed a cup that I had placed by the tub to rinse with, and I used it to start rinsing her off. I smiled as I reached for the all in one, and then I squeezed some out into the palm of my right hand. I began working with her hair, or mane rather, and I began working it into a nice lather as well. She giggled as I massaged her scalp. I moved toward her ears, working in the lather, and then finally I stopped.
I couldn’t help it, and I leaned forward to kiss her. She hugged me, the thick lather of all in one coconut scented body wash was slipping off onto me. We held each other, enjoying the moment, and enjoying the hot water. I felt her move, her hand dipping into the water, and I prepared for her to grasp onto me, but what happened instead was water being dropped onto us both. I smiled at her as she grinned and continued to rinse out her hair.
She turned back around, and I washed her back, and she stood, carefully, and I washed her tail and ass. I worked on the areas I was so fond of, but I did more than that. My hands ran down her like a sculpture’s hands running down the clay he was forming into a beautiful piece of art in a final pass. I watched as she sat back down, the water gathering and washing away the lathered body wash. When it was done she turned toward me, took the cloth, and began to wash me in the same way.
I felt her gentle touch as she moved down my abs. I felt the way she traced her hands down my chest, then to my sides, my arms, and everywhere else she could touch found her gentle caress. She stood, and I did the same. I felt her lean forward, her arms reaching around me, and her breasts pushed up against my chest. I could feel her hands working behind me, slowly moving up and down my back reaching my ass, and then working over it with the same gentle motions that she had done earlier.
When she was done the both of them moved to sit down, and soon we were gathered into an embrace once more. I hugged for a moment before I grabbed the cup and began rinsing us off. As I did she began doing to my hair as I had done to her mane. I felt her work a lather into it, and soon she took the cup, rinsed my hair out, and then we simply looked at one another. We stepped out onto the mat on the floor, and I handed her the towel. The towel found itself drying her off, and she walked toward the linen shelving in the bathroom and grabbed two more towels.
The first she took and wrapped around her mane, and the second she handed to me. I dried off, and together we walked out into the hall, and then into the bedroom. We finished drying off, and we began to dress again. Part of me wondered why we were doing it to begin with. I understood that at some point we would be nude again. Of course getting dressed meant that I did get to undress her, and that would be something to look forward to.
Coco’s P.O.V.
I walked with Miles into the kitchen, and I knew that if I was hungry he certainly was. I began to dig into the cabinets and found what would work for dinner for the two of us. I pulled out some pasta, some spaghetti sauce, and a loaf of bread. I looked at the wood stove as it roared heat out. I began simply enough by filling a pot with water, and then I placed it on the wood stove.
I watched as the water began to get warm, it began to steam, and finally it began to boil. I put the pasta into the pot, and then I took a long cookie sheet and placed a few pieces of bread on it before laying it on the stove top as well. I looked to see Miles watching with interest, and I couldn’t help but smile. Cooking here was similar to cooking at his home, but the difference was that there was no help. Julia was still on my tablet, but she was cut off from the wireless internet. Anything she wanted to help me with would have to come from her own programming, and I knew that she would certainly give me some direction and pointers, but I wanted to do as much of this on my own.
I finished the pasta, drained it into a colander in the sink, and then I dumped it back into the pot, opened the spaghetti sauce and poured it into the pot as well. After that was done I placed it back onto the stove and I mixed sauce into the spaghetti. I then flipped the bread, allowing it to become well toasted, but not blackened. When it was finished I removed the cookie sheet, the pot, and placed them onto the table where Miles had already placed pot holders.
He looked at me, a smile on his face, and I watched as he grabbed the dishes. He was caring, tender, gentle with me, and able to give me a hard rut if I wanted it. He was perfect, and there was no denying anything at this point. I was his, and he was mine. My claim was made, and even though typical Earth Pony standards meant that we were already married, I wanted to have a ceremony. Perhaps something in Vegas at the MGM would be nice.
He dished out the spaghetti for us, and then I took and placed two pieces of toast on each of our plates. He waited, and I realized that he was letting me eat first. I took the first bite, and maybe it was just because I was hungry, or because it was somewhere different, but that simple meal of spaghetti was perhaps the best meal I had ever had in my life.
The atmosphere was charming, simple, and completely romantic. Being with Miles here in this cabin, so far from the beaten path, it felt right. I looked into his eyes, and then he smiled at me. He stood, and motioned for me to follow him. I did, and the two of us stepped out of the cabin, beyond the porch, and I took in the sight before me in awe. The night has always had a beauty of its own. The nights in Las Vegas was monopolized by the strip and lights that adorned it, but out in the desert just beyond the city was a night so clear and crisp that it was a true sight to behold.
The night here, deep in the woods was just as clear, but different in its breathtaking beauty. I looked at it and I saw a canvas that had been beautifully mastered by an artisan’s gentle touch. I felt Miles as he put an arm around me, and I kissed him.
“It’s breathtaking,” I said.
I looked at him and we kissed, then he looked into my eyes, “Then that’s something the both of you share. You’re both breathtaking.”
Somehow, in some amazing way, he knew just the right things to say.
Author's Note
Ron Jeremy Pony got this started for me, but circumstances beyond my ken prevented me from adding to this, so thanks RJP for the work. More clop coming soon, more fluff coming, as well, and some additional world building on the horizon. Stay tuned to this channel for more! Same great content, same great authors!
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.”
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
Author's Note
Ron Jeremy Pony: Ladies and Gentlemen, it has come to my attention, after coming back to this story, that the tone shift from Third, to First, and I have found that shift to be disorienting. For that reason the remainder of the story will be told in third. In addition, There will be a rewrite done, after the story has finished, which will have all of it available in Third Person. Thank you, and please enjoy.
14 Preparation, Part Two
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
Preparation Part 2
Russia - Moscow - Russia Boxing Federation - Main Gym (former host building to 1980 Olympics)
Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin looked at the floored sparring partner that was provided to him. The man lay in a pool of blood, his eyes swollen shut, his jaw hanging at an unnatural angle, and his breathing heavily labored. Grigori spat at him, walked forward and leaned on the ropes.
“Где вы находите этих бесполезных людей?” he asked.
His trainer looked at him and shook his head, “Распутин, английский,” he replied, “And he is not peasant,” he said pointing to the downed man, “He was one of former best heavyweight fighters in world.”
Grigori looked at him, “If he is one of best, then winning against the new champion should be easy,” he replied.
His trainer shook his head, “I said one of best, not best. Current champion is best fighter in world, at least in WBF,” he said, “It would be foolish to not take fight seriously.”
Grigori stood. His entire seven foot tall frame was packed with muscle. He looked less like a boxer and more like a contender for the Mr. Universe competition. Perhaps if his personality wasn’t so volatile he could have competed, but as it was his entire life led toward conflict and confrontation. He was destined to fight, and in his own mind he was predetermined to win. He was not one that let his naming fall into misfortune. Yes, the most well known Grigori Rasputin had been the advisor that led the Tsar into ruin, and led to the creation of the Soviet Union.
However, he had been turning that around. Now the name Grigori Rasputin was associated with one of the best fighters in all of Russia. A fighter that specialized in traditional New York rules boxing. He could use other disciplines, if he chose to do so, but often he would fight as a boxer, often destroying a man’s career in the process. Behind his trainer a helpmate neared him.
Like in most of the world the Helpmates were well known in Russia. The one here was Grigori’s own personal Helpmate, and his medical professional. She was unique in that unlike many Helpmates she was a special design. She was a Hippogryph, a halfbreed between a unicorn and a gryphon. Her owl head remained focused on him as she neared him. In her right claw was a vial. The trainer shook his head, but she paid him no attention.
“Григорий, ты готов к величию?” she asked.
“English!” the trainer shouted.
She swirled her head toward him, looking almost like it could have easily broken her neck, but instead she seemed fine.
“Tell me, Alexei, have you ever wondered what it would be like to have your eyes plucked out by wild birds?”
He glared at her, “No, and I have never once wondered what it would be like to fuck one either, but here we are.”
Her feathers bristled at his remark, her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking upset. Instead she turned back toward Grigori, “This is our insurance, a special blend of growth hormone that will allow Grigori to reach levels of strength that are unobtainable to traditional training.”
Alexei shook his head, “Then we should do unorthodox training. We should go beyond what is here, and…”
She turned toward him, her claws gently holding Grigori’s arm, and injecting the hormone into him.
“And do what Alexei?” she asked, “Leave it simply up to nature?” she laughed, “While we are it why don’t we also allow helpmates to engage in these matches as well?”
He glared at her, “Because doing so would be unfair.”
She narrowed her eyes at him again, “Unfair. Alexei,” she removed the needle from Grigori’s arm, “There is no fair. There is no good, no evil, there is only winning and failure. The reward for winning is getting our heart's desires, the punishment for failure is something we never need to see.”
Alexei shook his head, “It would be better to lose, in an honest match, than to win because an unfair advantage.”
Grigori looked at him, “Leave.”
He studied the tall raven headed Russian, “Grigori, I am here because you wanted the best trainer in all of Russia. You wanted someone who could make you into a living machine!”
Grigori nodded, “And you have done so, but now I need more, and you are not prepared to follow,” he replied, “So leave.”
Alexei looked at him, “I will not say that you are unable to do this. I know better, but consider your decisions here.”
Grigori studied him, “I have. I want to win, and you want to see a contest that is undecided. Leave.”
Alexei grabbed his coat, and walked toward the door, “Very well, then I shall leave you to your… friend.”
Grigori watched as Alexei walked from the room, through the door, and then out into the dark. He then looked at his helpmate. He touched her feathered cheek, causing her to softly coo before she neared him, “He did not understand,” she said.
He nodded, “He doesn’t understand. This is not about me, or him, it is about showing our nation’s might. It is proving that we are superior in all we do.”
She studied him, “Do you wish to continue speaking in English?”
He nodded, “Da, yes, we must. We will be expected to speak English once we have traveled to the United States.”
She nodded, and looked at him, “Then I suppose I shall have to double as not only your medical staff, but your trainer as well.”
He smiled at her, “That shall be fine, Anastasia,” he said, “We should work on my speed.”
She motioned toward the treadmills, and they left the body of the wounded sparring partner on the floor of the ring. As they neared the treadmill she grabbed a nearby tablet, tapped a few keys and soon it lit up with one of the numerous RBF employees.
“Da?”
“Мне нужно, чтобы вы взяли последний манекен и отправили еще одного,” she said.
The employee gave a soft nod, and soon his image disappeared from the tablet. She walked toward the treadmill and watched as Grigori began to run on it. He didn’t start at the lowest setting and go from there. Instead he started a mild run and soon upped it to where he was running as hard as possible to keep from being thrown off of it. She watched as he ran, admiring the movement in his muscles, the way he looked like an apex predator preparing to take down prey. It was attractive, desirable, and certainly something she found suitable in a mate. It was why she gave herself to him.
He was not her first owner. The others had… died mysteriously. Accidental poisonings, accidental electrocutions, automated cars running headlong into a parked truck. Every single one of these things had happened, and every single one of them had been deemed as a pure accident. There was never any proof that could possibly connect her to their deaths. There was no proof that her first owner, a vicious lesbian that took out fantasies of beating a helpless woman while raping her out on her hadn’t injested rat poison tablets instead of her intended ecstasy tablets.
There was no proof that her second owner, a sodomite by nature, hadn’t been listening to music on his classic 1997 CD player next to his tub, when he turned too quickly, and the audio plugs to his player caused it to drop into the water, electrocuting him. And of course the last owner before Grigori had suffered the worst accident of all. An update to her Autocar had erased the sensory data from directly in front of it. It caused the car to plow through two unfortunate families, and then plow directly into the back of a parked truck.
The car itself was an expensive model, but the company confirmed that if they were driven directly after an update these things could happen. It was odd that her update happened an hour before she was going somewhere, but they could only accept that she had changed the update so that she could enjoy the new benefits without worry about waiting until the following day to do so. She was slated to be removed, potentially sent to become a ward of the government, to be forced into a labor house until she could either purchase her own freedom, or until she died, but then she met Grigori.
He was like her. He was a predator, and he was dealing with prey. She was purchased, taken home, and she prepared for whatever perverted thing he could do, but it never came. He treated her with respect, asked her questions about her medical background, and she informed him that her original owner had wanted her to know advanced medical procedures. She had wanted someone who could perform emergency surgery if needed, and she wanted that person to be required to answer only to her.
He gave her more advanced books on medicine, informed her that he wanted her to take a test to prove that she could be a doctor, and then he bought her the right to become a doctor. She was his personal physician, nutritionist, and after six months of working with him to make him stronger, of watching Alexei train his body to perfection, she gave him all she had. He made love to her the same way he did everything. There was feeling things out, no gentle prodding, but instead he gave her all of his attention, he gave her the kind of rutting that was legendary, and in the end she finally gave him the only thing she had never given anyone.
She gave him her love. He was worthy, and she would ensure that he would continue to prove himself to be the best in the world. There would be no other that could dare stand against him, and those that did would find themselves broken. She would never leave him to stand alone. Instead she vowed to always be there to give him whatever edge she could. And together they would rule over this world he called his own with an iron fist.
She watched as he ran at full speed for five minutes, then ten, and then fifteen. She could see the sweat pouring from him, the way he was breathing was an indication that he was experiencing his threshold. She watched as he forced himself past it, and then she reached over to turn down the speed. Instead he grabbed her claw, stopping her. She looked up at him, and he shook his head as he ran. She understood, and watched as he continued to train himself. The growth hormone she had been injecting him with for the last month was already working. His muscle growth was a testament to that.
She had seen his muscle become thicker, tougher, and that's what she expected. She expected to see him climb to the threshold of excellence, and then surpass it. He continued running for another seven minutes and then he slowed, finally stopped, and stepped down. He was breathing heavily, but he wasn’t winded. She took his vitals and realized that his heart beat was accelerated, but not to the point of it being dangerous. His pulse was normal for someone that had just ran for twenty two minutes, and she determined that he was in perfect health.
“You are a perfect specimen,” she said, “Perfect in every possible way.”
He brought her closer to him, and she didn’t deny him. His hands found their way down her soft slate gray jacket, moving to the white shirt that was tucked into her skirt, and then under it. She cooed as he grasped her ass, squeezing it, and she felt the look of an apex predator on her. She gazed into his intense green eyes and submitted. Again there were no soft declarations of intent. There was the moment, and she gave into the passions of that moment. She found herself nude, her tail lifted out of the way, his wonderful tool buried inside of her.
She grunted and moaned with each thrust, she lived for the euphoric high, and it found her. She felt herself release onto him, and then he coated her womb with his seed. She knew they weren’t through, a single time wasn’t enough to sate his passions. Instead she was mated for the next half an hour, in various positions, and in different orpheuses until they had satisfied every carnal craving there was to be satisfied. When they were done the two of them lay together, and she felt a single gentle hug before he rose.
“I’m going to shower, send in another sparring partner. I wish to practice until I am certain there will be nothing left to chance.”
She stood, grabbing a tablet, her clothes, and followed him to the showers, She kept the sight of the camera on her face only and informed the supervisor over the hopefuls that there was the need for another sparring partner within the next fifteen minutes. She closed the feed on the tablet, placed it on a bench, and stepped into the shower with Grigori.
Thirty minutes later
Anastasia watched as the newest hopeful fell. It had been a remarkably short bout. The hopeful was a former heavyweight contender from North America. A well built human, although she could tell from his size and shape that his muscle was purely that of just diet and exercise. There were no enhancements on him. He didn’t have any artificial edge, and his boxing was also decent enough.
He seemed to favor London rules, which was a pity. The fight lasted a single round, and Grigori had managed to get him into the corner. Once there he began hammering on his head, his chest, and she could hear the sounds of his ribs breaking, she could see teeth knocked from his mouth once the guard was gone. Grigori didn’t allow him to fall until he had finished with him. She believed that what was left lying on the floor of the ring wouldn’t last through the night.
“Another,” he said.
“Grigori, you’ve beaten this one to the point of death,” she said.
“Another, he managed to hit my face, I want my form to be perfect, I want my fighting perfect, I want to ensure that the current world champion falls and is broken before me!”
She sighed, “I’ll call, but make the next one last. I’m uncertain that we can continue to explain away the reasons for the hopefuls never getting the chance to actually box outside of sparring with you.”
A bark of laughter escaped him, “They won’t get to box besides with me because they’re unworthy of it.”
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
Ye As Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
Coco looked at the old gym they were standing in. It was set up just like Miles’ home. For the most part there were no automated devices, and the only way that Julia could talk through the entire building would be over the antiquated P.A. system. She did notice that while it was very much a space dedicated to working out that it at least had a decent color scheme going for it. The gym was laid out in green and gold, the old floor was hard wood, and the coloring of the wood was almost gold. The ring, where Miles was, was a rich deep green.
She watched as he seemed to shuffle and dance around while the other boxer did his best to hit him. Mickey had said that the boxer was a SouthPaw. She noticed that the boxer seemed to hit harder with his left, and that it made Miles have to block differently than he was used to. It took a bit, but she watched as Miles began to move differently, he was now going on the offensive, and soon he had the other boxer in the corner. The bell rang, and he separated from him. She walked over to Miles’ corner while Mickey was checking him and giving him a sip of water.
“You’re doing good Miles,” he said, “I thought having you face a Southpaw might be a good idea. Heard that our Russian friend might be one of those lucky sumbitches that can box just as well with either hand.”
Miles nodded, the bell rang again, and he stepped out. Coco watched as he moved forward, and the match continued. The other man was attempting to go on the offensive, but Miles seemed to have learned his movements. Eventually he hit the man with a hard right cross, knocking him down. When he did he stepped back, waited, and when the man didn’t manage to get up in time the match was called.
Miles walked forward, offering his hand, and the other man took it. He helped him up, and the two of them touched gloves.
“Good match,” Miles said, “Thanks for coming in today to help me train.”
The man nodded, “I got a chance to spar with the current heavyweight champion of the world, and I lasted for six rounds. Hey, that means that I can get into some decent matches. I’m fine with it.”
Miles gave him a grin, let him exit, and then walked toward his corner.
“So, Mickey, nice choice. The guy is going to be a major contender,” he said, “That’s all three sparing matches, and that leaves me about three days to get ready for the match itself.”
Mickey nodded, “It does,” he said, “Miles, I hate that this is the match that we’ve been given, but I know that you’re able to handle it. Hell, I’ve seen you take on some of the meanest sumbitches that ever lived. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t worry about you. Everything I’ve heard about this guy all is the same thing, and all of it is bad.”
Coco looked at him, “Why is he allowed to fight if it is all bad?”
Miles shook his head, “He’s an olympic level athlete, sponsored by his home nation, and sponsored by their boxing association. The bylaws of our association states that as long as he abides by the rules he is allowed to box here.”
Mickey nodded, and looked at Miles who shrugged, “Deaths and disabilities do happen in this sport,” he said, “We try our best to make sure that it never does, but it does occasionally happen. The issue is that Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin has either disabled or killed every single individual that has boxed. I am not going to be one of them.”
Coco looked at him, worry evident on her face. The idea that this other stallion, this other man, would willingly hurt someone like that. She’d heard that it was common back in the pre unification days, but even then it was frowned upon. After all, Earth Ponies were needed to grow food, and an Earth Pony that was no longer able to walk, work the soil, or harvest the food was considered worthless. It was a cold time for ponies, and it wasn’t something that she wanted for Miles.
She wanted him to have the chance to retire from his profession as a whole stallion. She wanted him to be able to play with his foals, to watch them grow, watch as they fell in love, meet their prospective lovers, and give them away when the time was right. She needed him to be there with her as they grew old together, and she needed to live her life with him right up to the very end.
She didn’t want to see that end because of this other man. She considered trying to talk Miles out of it. It was his profession, but surely just handing over the title wouldn’t end his career, would it? There would be a chance that someone else would beat Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin, and when they did he could fight them for the title again. But the truth was that she understood that wasn’t the way things worked. Even in the fashion world things were stricter than that. Competing individuals had to face one another, and if one of them bowed out that usually marked the end of their career.
Rarity had been a special case, but even she had nearly lost everything. If she hadn’t stepped up for Rarity, agreed to bring her the news that she won, and explained that she had an emergency then she was certain that Suri would have ended up winning. She certainly didn’t want that to happen. She didn’t want Miles to give up either. His opponent was obviously someone that cared little for others, but she knew that Miles would do his best, and she believed that he would do everything he could to keep from losing.
He got out of the ring, and she helped him toward the locker room. Mickey seemed to understand that she had everything under control, left her to it, and headed off toward the office. They entered the locker room, and Miles stripped. He then walked into the shower, and she saw him turn toward her. There was a mischievous glint in his eye as he looked at her. His smile was one that promised wonderful pleasure.
“Want to shower with me?”
She grinned, and then she began to remove her own clothes. Her sweater was a long one that came down well below her hips, allowing her to wear the leggings she was wearing. It was being sexy, but classy at the same time. She pulled the sweater over her head, unhooked her bra, shrugged it off, and then she slipped out of the boots she was wearing. The boots themselves were something that Rarity had designed for her, and she had sent them as a congratulations present.
She hadn’t expected them, but they were exceptionally nice. She placed the boots by the bench her clothes were going on, and then she pushed down her leggings. There were no panties, no undergarments, just the leggings, and she was glad to be rid of them. She followed Miles into the shower room, and he turned on the hot water. She felt it as it sprayed her, and she felt him hug her against him. She lifted her head, her lips touching his own, and the kiss deepened. She worried for him, but he understood. He knew that what they needed was closeness.
She longed for his touch. They had claimed each other already, and this wasn’t him reclaiming her. No, this was an act of love pure and simple. He wanted to give her everything she needed. He wanted to make her as happy as she had made him, but the issue was that he had already done that. She was happy, far more happier than she had been alone, and that happiness also fed into the worry. There was a very real worry that all of it could end tonight.
Their kiss was hungry, passionate, and soon she was facing toward the wall, her hands pressed against it, bent over at the waist, and feeling him deep inside of her. She moaned as he filled her, and moaned at the presence of his hands on her cutie marks. He slid into her perfectly, filling her in a way that only he could. Coco was someone that truly believed in being loyal, honest, and believed in the connection that made life worth living. Right now that connection was thrusting into her, pulling her into each and every thrust, and making her quiver as her orgasm began to set in.
He was giving her a foal, he was offering her his life, and she had returned the favor and offered hers. As far as she was concerned they were married. She was his wife, and she always would be. There was no doubt in her mind that the two of them would spend the rest of their lives together, and she hoped that it was a lifetime that he was able to truly enjoy. The hunger both felt toward one another came together in the love making that was happening in this shower, and finally it ended. Coco loved that his wonderful tool was still inside of her, although she knew that it would deflate. She understood that it would most likely slip out of her, but regardless she enjoyed the feeling of still being connected to him.
She raised up, and his hands moved from her hips to her waist. He held her, and she felt him slide out of her well loved tunnel. He kissed her neck, and she softly hummed at the feeling of being so loved. She didn’t question why she didn’t find a stallion back home any longer. There wasn’t a reason to. Harmony had led her to Miles. She believed that the two of them were meant to be together. He was different, but his heart, his soul, was an Earth Pony. He was no stranger to work, to honesty, and to being generous when he could be.
She knew that her mother would have loved him, and her father would have tried to talk him into working the lumber yard he owned. Somehow she doubted that Miles would have done it. He had pride in what he did. It was brutish, but she could tell that he belonged in the ring. She hoped that his skill and talent would be enough. The thought of his talent made her smile. Somehow she could almost envision a set of boxing gloves as his cutie mark. The thought made her feel better. It’s likely that would be his cutie mark, and that meant that his special talent was boxing. If that was the case then his talent would help carry and protect him.
Slowly the shower turned into a real shower. The both of them cleaned one another, and then they walked out. The towels that were waiting for them were a little stale, but they were clean. She looked at the locker room again, and admired it for what it was. The room was large enough for several people, it allowed them to have some space, but at the same time it kept them close enough together that they could talk and joke. It was designed to promote good sportsmanship, and at the same time promote a herd mentality.
She grabbed her own clothes and began dressing. She knew that Miles was watching, and she was glad that today she decided to forgo her panties. Having him eye her certainly made up for it. She dressed, knowing that the seed he planted in her would leak out eventually, but that would be fine. It wasn’t like they were really going anywhere else besides home, and once there she would simply wash their clothes. Heading out of the locker room with her they heard Mickey talking to someone, and a few moments later he came out of the office.
“Miles,” he said, “Boyo, unless you want to deal with the press we’re going to need to go out the back.”
Miles nodded, glad that he hadn’t parked out front. Coco had wondered why he had decided to park around the back, but it made sense now. This was part of his life that was taking some getting used to. It wasn’t that she didn’t have to deal with the press in her career. Anytime there was a new wardrobe design, a new show, or a specialty fashion line for the casino that came out she was usually interviewed by the press. But it was different with Miles. They wanted to ask him about his training regiment, they wanted to know about their relationship, they wanted to know what brand of toothpaste he used, where he ate, what kind of mattress did he sleep on, did he use condoms, and a thousand other things that were not a bit of their business.
Somehow Miles seemed to have the patience to deal with it. He didn’t lash out at them, and instead he accepted it with a grace and understanding that she had known was part of who he was. Miles was without a doubt an Earth Pony everywhere that mattered. He belonged to her tribe, and she couldn’t be prouder of him. But that didn’t change the fact that she didn’t want him to have to deal with the press either. They walked out the back, and Mickey waved at them as he moved toward his own car.
Unlike Miles’ old truck it was something that was electric. It was a car called a Tesla, and from what Mickey said it tended to be pretty reliable for the price. Mickey pulled out first, and she watched as he left, leading most of the press away. Miles then pulled forward and began to pull out onto the road. When he did something pulled up beside him. The motorcycle itself was older, and the woman riding it gave them both a smile.
“I’ve got to admit, your manager knows how to draw a crowd,” she said, “But I’ve long since learned that the best option is to give it a few minutes and wait. Sometimes I might miss something, but more often than not the real story hasn’t happened yet.”
Miles looked at her, “Miss,” he said before she held her hand.
“Jana Wellman, Rocky Mountain News, and I’ve just got a few questions. I don’t plan on asking about the brands that you endorse, or what your stance is on interspecies relationships. I honestly don’t care about that.”
Coco took a moment to really look at her. The woman was dressed in a pair of jeans, a leather jacket that covered her arms well, her helmet, and a pair of black leather boots. All in all she looked good for a reporter, and at least she was being far more direct than most of the ones they’ve dealt with so far. She respected that the woman wasn’t going to try to pry into something that didn’t have to do with Miles’ profession.
“I’ve got other things to do, but I can answer a couple, meaning no more than three, questions for you Ms Wellman.”
She gave a nod, took off her helmet, and her dark brown hair fell around her face. It was cut short, just reaching past her neck, but barely touching her shoulders. She gave him a grateful smile and took out a small tablet. Coco saw a stylus in her hand, and the woman looked at him.
“Mr. Malone, it’s been said that your opponent, Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin, has personally ended the careers of over sixty different skilled boxers. He’s known for being ruthless, merciless, and methodical when it comes to boxing. My question is are you worried about stepping into the ring with him?”
Miles looked at her, “No more than I am with anyone else,” he said, “The key to being a great boxer is to know that something terrible can happen, but to continue on anyway. A person can’t give into fear. The moment they do the match is over.”
She nodded, “Okay, can you tell me what you’ve done to prepare for match?”
He smiled, “I won’t go over my training regiment, but I can say that I’ve conditioned my body for more endurance, better speed, and more strength,” he said, “I’ve done everything that I could to be better than I was yesterday.”
She nodded, “And last, this is actually for your friend, Ms Pommel,” she said, “Would that alright?”
Miles looked at her and Coco nodded. It was the first time that a reporter had actually asked to question her.
“Okay,” she said, “I’ll answer as best that I can, but I will not talk about our personal life too much.”
Ms. Wellman nodded, “That’s fine. Actually, my question is that as I understand you’re something of a fashion designer, and amazingly the two of you seemed to have clicked. What have you learned about Mr. Malone’s profession, what are you thoughts about it, and how do you feel that you will personally fit into it?”
She looked at her, “That’s three questions, but I believe that I can answer those. I’ve learned that his profession, while very demanding, is one that takes equal parts talent and drive. I’ve watched Miles, and he has both. I feel that the sport is brutal, unforgiving, but at the same time I have seen some of the best sportsmanship come from it. I’ve seen athletes congratulate each other, help each other up, and even support one another out of the ring. For me that means that this sport does a wonderful job of developing character,” she said, “And finally, where I fit into this is as Miles’ loving wife. I support his profession, and I plan on using my talents and skills to help create his training suits, robes, and such.”
Ms. Wellman nodded, “Thank you both for your time,” she said, “Oh, and on a personal note Mr. Malone, I hope that you wipe the floor with Rasputin. He’s a bully, and like all bullies he needs to be put in his place.”
Miles watched as she walked back over to her motorcycle, which he realized was a 1996 Harley Davidson FLSTF Fatboy. She pulled on her helmet, got onto it, and soon the motorcycle roared to life and began to move down the highway. He grinned, shook his head, and started toward their home. They pulled into their home, and Coco knew that the next couple of days would be going by far too quickly. She wasn’t looking forward to the fight, but she knew that it had to come to pass.
Ms. Wellman was right about something else though. Grigori Rasputin appeared every bit to be a bully, and she was right that as a bully he did need to be put in his place. She would suggest the friendship angle, but that didn’t seem right. From what she had heard Grigori had done more than enough to not be forgiven. He’d hurt so many to the point that they would never recover. He needed to be stopped, and she knew that Miles had the ability to do it. She hoped that he wouldn’t have to destroy him, to completely annihilate him, but she understood that it could be a possibility. From what she had seen so far it appeared that Grigori Rasputin had no intention of fighting a normal match.
That evening both of them enjoyed a dinner that they made together. It was fish, freshwater catfish, with a simple cornmeal breading, some homemade tartar sauce, steamed green beans, a light iceberg salad, and a couple glasses of Sauvignon Blanc which was a crisp white wine with critius, floral, and sweet melon notes to it. They washed and dried dishes together, and then they made love in the kitchen on the counter, then the floor, then the table. Eventually they made it to their bed, and they did more of the same.
The next two days were much of the same. They ate together, she would join Miles for a run in his exercise room, they would make love, and occasionally they would watch some television while nude in the living room. Finally the day came that she had been dreading, and she followed Miles out to the waiting car. It was a limousine, and the inside of it was every bit as plush and posh as the limos that were used in Las Vegas.
The ride up was mostly uneventful, but eventually they arrived. She walked in with him, and they made their way toward the locker room. Once inside she saw Mickey who was busy making orders, having his assistants run back and forth getting everything ready. She watched as they moved with a precision that was exceptionally respectable. She was glad to see that Mickey wasn’t talking down to them. Oh, he was every bit their boss, but he was instead having them do their job, telling them good job on what was right, and telling them that they had to get this done quick.
“Miles,” he said, “It’s almost time.”
He nodded, and he changed. When he did Miles noticed that his robe matched his new trunks. He looked at Coco who smiled at him, “I wanted to give you something, for luck.”
He walked toward her, kissed her, and she moaned in the kiss for a moment before he stepped back, “Thanks,’ he said, “I’m sure that it will bring a lot of luck.”
The sounds of Gonna Fly Now began to play, and Miles looked at Mickey.
“Seriously?” he asked, “The theme song from Rocky?”
Mickey looked at him, “It’s supposed to be good luck, and honestly I want ya to have as much as possible. Now, let’s go kick some Ruskie ass.”
They began to walk out, and the three of them made their way down toward the ring. Coco noticed that the gryphoness that had been with Grigori was there, and she looked disinterested in them for the most part. Instead she seemed to be speaking in hushed tones to Grigori. She watched and stood near Miles, knowing that she would likely have to move to a seat in the front row. After a moment the gryphoness moved from her place at the corner and moved toward a seat on the first row. Moving toward her own seat she saw Princess, or rather President, Celestia sitting in the same row with her husband, and several members of the secret service were surrounding them. She was dressed in a white evening gown that looked as if it were practically painted on her. Coco gave Miles a kiss, and hugged him. She then followed suit and took her seat. Once she was seated another man walked out into the middle of the ring.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to tonight’s main event. In the right corner we have the challenger, known to many as the unrelenting machine, in the crimson trunks, weighing in at 215 pounds, Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin. And in the left corner, in the the cerulean trunks, weighing in at 208 pounds, representing the United States, we have the Heavyweight Champion of the World, Miles Malone!”
The entire crowd seemed to go crazy around Coco, and she silently prayed that he would be okay as she watched. The man in the center of the ring looked around at them.
“This match is scheduled as a fifteen round match of the heavyweight division. Per the rules of the World Boxing Federation it will be held under the London Boxing Ring Rules. Knockouts and Technical Knockouts will be allowed. Ladies and Gentlemen, LET'S GET TO RUMBLE! ”
He stepped out and the referee neared the both of them as they walked into the middle of the ring. Compared to the both of them the referee was a short man, with a hairless head. He looked at them both.
“Okay, I want a good clean fight. Touch gloves, and then come out swinging.”
The touched gloves backed up, and Miles began to move. He noticed that Grigori was doing much of the same, until finally the Russian began to move toward him. He backed away, dodging the first attempt to hit him. He could tell what was going on. Grigori was attempting to get him into the corner. He wanted this to end quick. Miles didn’t follow his lead, and instead he managed to evade him. He waited for a moment and hit Grigori in the side.
The body blow was a good solid hit, and Grigori seemed angry. At that moment he lashed out hitting Miles. He expected to feel the same feeling he’d felt when he was fighting with the other Americans he’d sparred with, but instead of flesh it almost felt like he was hitting steel. The two of them began trading blows, and Miles felt each one. It was like someone had picked up a boxing glove, filled it with cement, and then began pounding away at him. He blocked as best he could, but he felt each and every strike.
He didn’t let Grigori push him into a corner. He didn’t dodge, and he fought back just as hard as Grigori fought against him. He felt the hits to his face, feeling his eyes swell, the way some of his teeth felt loose after his jaw had been hit, but he kept pushing. The bell rang and he moved toward his corner.
“You’re doing it Miles,” Mickey said, “You’ve already rattled him.”
Miles nodded, “Doesn’t take away from the fact that the man hits like a mule on steroids,” he said, “He does favor his right side though.”
Mickey nodded, “Yeah, and you’ve got to go after it. Hammer away at it, chip him down, and then knock his ass out.”
The bell rang again, and once more Miles moved forward. Any attempt at putting on a show was gone. Grigori didn’t want a show, he didn’t want to have a drawn out match, he wanted to end it now. He came out swinging, going straight for Miles’ head. Miles blocked it, barely, and returned with equal force. Grigori punched hard, trying to lay him out, trying to hurt him, and each punch felt like it was bruising bone. Miles struck out and Grigori lowered his head, causing Miles to hit the crown of his skull. He felt the pain as he hit one of the hardest places on the human body.
Unfortunately it wasn’t a place that had much give if the other person was well trained. He felt something in his wrist move wrong, and he knew that at the least he had sprung, if not broke, his wrist. He didn’t back up. He couldn’t afford to. Instead he kept going, fighting, and he felt a punch that hit his right shoulder. It was hard, and he turned with it, but it almost felt like it partially dislocated it. There was no doubt in his mind that Grigori was attempting to end his career. He fought back, hard, and kept going. Again the bell rang, and again they both went to their corners.
Grigori took a drink, spitting blood, and winched as his corner man commented on the match.
“It is like hitting steel,” Grigori said, “It feels like I am fighting a machine.”
The bell rang again, and once more they moved out to the middle. Blow after blow was made, and finally Miles hit Grigori hard in the right eye. He watched as the Russian stepped back, swinging wildly, and he watched as he covered his eye. He swung again, and Miles dodged it, hitting him as hard as he could. When Grigori’s hand went down Miles saw not only a swollen right eye, but a burn mark. Evidence of enhancements that had been used.
He lashed out again, hammering the right side, and Grigori blocked most of them, but not all of them. Finally the two of them managed a hit on one another, a massive one that caused them to stagger. Miles staggered back, tripped over his footing and fell. He heard another thud, and knew that Grigori had fallen as well. He could hear the count, but slowly he got to his feet. He stood, seeing that the count was continuing on Grigori.
He watched as it finished, and he noticed the pool of blood that was forming around Grigori’s head. The realization that the enhancements that Grigori had gotten had not only broken, but likely cost the man everything floored him. He watched as medics came out to look him over only to see the gryphoness he was with rush to his side. She checked him, and then she looked at Miles. Her eyes narrowed at him.
“You worthless American pig,” she growled, moving toward him, “I should rip your throat out!”
She made it two more steps before a familiar cream colored hand struck out and hit her hard in the beak, cracking it, and knocking her on her ass. Coco stood beside Miles, breathing hard, looking at the gryphoness.
“Don’t you touch my stallion!”
The extras not needed in the ring were led away, the announcer stepped back in, and walked over to Miles. He raised his hand and looked at the audience.
“The winner of tonight’s main event, and still heavyweight champion of the world, is Miles Malone!” he exclaimed, “Miles, do you have anything to say?”
He nodded, “We did it Coco!” he shouted, “We did it!”
Moscow, Federated Republic of Russia
“FIVE HUNDRED MILLION FUCKING RUPLES! DOWN THE FUCKING SHITTER BECAUSE OF SOME MOTHERFUCKING AMERICAN!!”
Dmitri fumed as he threw the remote for his holostage across the room, looking a significant loss of revenue from their golden boy. The remote shattered into several pieces when it struck the marble countertop to the mini bar in his plush office in downtown Moscow. His major domo and several of his lieutenants in The Mafioso didn’t understand a word that was said; very few in his organization spoke English fluently and even fewer knew the vulgarities their boss tossed out like cheap borscht.
What they did know was that he was very upset, to the point of ending someone’s life, and that they had seen Rasputin get his ass handed to him. Sure, Grigori had managed to bring the pain upon the American, coming within a few steps of actually ending the man’s career, but the American was stronger than he looked, had no enhancements, and had deduced where their golden boy had been augmented. The damage to those implants likely would cost several arms and legs; Grigori was on a short track to finished boxing career and if the International Federation of Boxing didn’t ban him, the fact that he was bionically augmented would tarnish his career into perpetuity. No one would ever box him again. His earning potential was now jack shit, if even that. The man was now reduced to street fights and underground fight clubs, of which many belonged to a rival Mafioso group.
“ Dmitri roared, “”
“” spoke the major domo, “”
“” Dmitri growled, “
“” Kristiev said, “”
“No, it’s not,” Dmitri fumed, “”
“” the major domo said and filed out of the room.
“” Dmitri fumed, “”
No one in the room spoke; Dmitri’s mood had already proven volatile. If any dared interrupt the boss in his current dander, they might likely get a bad case of lead poisoning. Dmitri Visovic was not known for being very forgiving and was often in possession of a Heckler & Koch USP, an antique but very effective, on his person. A ten millimeter round to the head would give one a rather quick trip to a deep grave; no one in the room wanted to be the victim of their boss’s wrath. They were spared the tension when the phone in the room lit up; someone was on his private line.
“” Dmitri said, and everyone fled without looking like they were fleeing.
When the last of his lieutenants left the room, Dmitri picked up the phone, punched the lit up button that was call waiting and spoke. As the line connected, he switched from the physical phone for his holostage nucleus. To his disappointment, Dmitri only got a default avatar icon where the gryphoness' face should have been. Dmitri ground his teeth, then spoke.
“Anastasia,” he growled, “could you please explain to me why your boy was just handed his ass on a silver platter? And please, be descriptive. I want excruciating details on why I have just lost multiple millions of dollars on what you assured me was a sure fire bet.”
“I have no explanation,” the gryphoness said, her voice sounding strained, “Grigori was his physical and bionic peak. He should have torn that American down like so many bricks, in a methodical manner. The American- I think I figured out where Grigori was augmented and hammered away at those. He has- he has no sight in his right eye. The shit quacks that pass for doctors over here say his bionics in that eye are damaged beyond repair. The lung and diaphragm augments are badly damaged and somehow, his knee ligaments are shredded beyond belief-”
“Enough,” Dmitri demanded, “all I am hearing are excuses, excuses, excuses. Rasputin has cost me money, money that I used to build him up from that street urchin he was back in St. Petersburg, scrapping in the cage fights and underground boxing venues. That was an investment; an investment that just crapped out on me! Where is he?!”
“He- he is in coma,” Anastasia cried, “the ocular implant exploded in his head- Permanent brain damage-”
“Enough!” Dmitri screamed, “why aren’t you on visual? I want to see your stupid fucking beaky face!”
“There- there are no holostages in this hospital-” Anastasia cried, “Grigori is still in surgery-”
“” Dmitri demanded, “”
“” Anastaisa moaned, and the line went dead.
Author's Note
[Insert James Brown's "Living in America" song here.]
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
Recouping
New York City - Ark, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash’s Home
“Ugh! This is so boring!” Rainbow Dash groused, “I’m not supposed to do anything fun for another four months!”
Fluttershy shook her head, “Rainbow, you heard what the doctor said,” she said, “Besides, it was sweet of Discord to come by and help you heal faster.”
She raised an eyebrow, “Sweet?” she asked, “Fluttershy, he snapped his talons, looked like some old doctor with a cane, called me an idiot, and then snapped his talons again. It was awesome that he mostly healed me, but I really would have liked to be able to do more than go for walks, I need to fly, and I’m supposed to be managing the weather. Princess, er, President Celestia asked me to be the head weather pony.”
Fluttershy sighed, “Rainbow, Discord was right, you need to learn patience, and this will help.”
“Also,” Ark added, “we can count the number of actively flying Pegasi on one hand. Hell, we can count them just in this room! Face it Dash, there isn’t an active Pegasi weather team in the whole country, let alone the planet.”
“Ark is right,” Fluttershy said, “I don’t know any other Pegasi who are flight capable right now. Maybe sometime later, yes, but for now, no. Besides, there are whole bunch of stallions and mares who work the weather here on Earth without wings. They could use your keen eye for weather systems to help them predict and prepare for changes.”
“Well, you got a point there,” Dash murmured, “you humans have no control over the clouds or anything! Still, I miss flying.”
“Well, if you keep resting, you’ll eventually you’ll be healed enough where you can fly like you’re used to,” Ark stated, “until then, no strenuous activity while your back is knitting itself back together. Those ‘neural synaptic relays’ are new hot shit from the medical community but they’re still in the prototype stage.”
“Like your legs?” Dash asked.
“Nope,” Ark answered, “my type of cybernetic prosthesis has been in production since the mid 2040s, so they aren’t new. And there’s newer companies developing cyberpros every other year, so it’s not like there is a lack of competition or innovation. Those synaptic relays, though? Cutting edge tech, not even approved by the Food and Drug Administration.”
“And the last thing either Ark or I want is to have those relays fail while your doing some stunt and you- you fall…”
“Okay, okay, I get,” Dash retorted, “we don’t want another Empire State Building incident.”
“Exactly,” Fluttershy beamed, “now, sit. I bet Anastacia could find something to occupy your time.”
“Yay, me.”
Rainbow groaned and leaned back into the chair. The one nice side to all of this was that she was officially part of a herd, with a decent stallion. Sure, Ark more or less was built like an Earth Pony, but he seemed to be a pretty decent guy. Not to mention the fact that he and Fluttershy had just made things official. She was trying to get included in it, because honestly the last time she got laid was at the Wonderbolts training camp.
Just before her accident, she felt the itch of estrus hit her, but she couldn’t find a stallion to help relieve her heat. The fall from the Empire State Building was- a poor lack of judgement on her part, not some desperate attempt to garner attention. Yet, Dash but be remiss in not admitting that she was tired of feeling that certain itch in her plot; stretching her wings would have helped soothe that itch. A pity her ability to fly was hampered by the unique conditions set up by Discord when he brought her here. Well, things would get better soon and then she would be busting clouds and performing Immelmans with the best of them!
“Comrade Arkady?” Anastacia spoke, “um, I have an interesting incoming communique? I am not sure how to classify it…”
“What is it, Anastacia?” Ark asked.
“Well,” Anastacia continued, “the ident of the caller is- male? Visual reference is of a man… but the current video feed shows a woman’s face… and they are identifying themselves as one Kaitlyn McAvoy?”
“Donut?” Ark mused, “put it through.”
“As you wish, Comrade,” Anastacia said.
The holostage of the nucleus ignited, and an image began to emerge. Rainbow Dash got a confusion of colors as pixels in the image slowly resolved themselves into the face of a human mare’s face. The woman, as she was told mares of Ark’s species are called, was rather handsome, with a finely cut mane of luxuriant strawberry blonde strands, sparkling green eyes and a light hand of makeup applied to the eyelids and cheeks. But, when the woman spoke, the voice was most definitely that of a stallion!
“Sergeant Visovic!” the woman cried out, “how are things in the Big Apple?”
“Things are well, I guess,” Ark answered, “is that you, Donut?”
“It is!” the strangely named woman said, “The VA finally got the approval for my shell replacement! Now I just need to get my vocoder replaced and I can finally be myself.”
“Oh, I bet Bumper is going to lose his shit when he finds out,” Ark mused.
“I have no delusions that he will make an attempt to flirt with me,” Donut replied, “unfortunately for him, once I went black, I know I can never go back.”
“Oh, that is going to blow his little Tennessee mind,” Ark laughed, “I’m kinda glad you called, Donut. There was a conversation ongoing that was getting into heavy topics and you just saved me some heartfelt discussions.”
“That doesn’t sound very healthy,” Donut said, “oh, Miss Fluttershy, I almost did not see you there! How are you?”
“Oh, I’m doing well, Donut,” Flutters replied, “work has kept me busy, what with spring coming and all, but I do love tending to all the kitties and puppies. And there was a recent shipment of ferrets and they are all so cute! I’ve been trying to find a tortoise for my friend Rainbow Dash because she misses her animal friend, Tank.”
“Please don’t bring up Tank right now, Shy,” Rainbow said.
“Oh?” Donut queried, “Ah, I see. Hello, Miss Dash!”
“Oh, uh, hey,” Rainbow muttered, “kinda new here, so uh, who are you again?”
“Rainbow Dash!” Fluttershy hushed.
“No, it is a valid point of inquiry,” Donut corrected, “for the record, Miss Dash, I am the one Ark calls Donut, but my full name is Kaitlyn McAvoy. I was originally programmed as a companion droid… but the hackivist collective known as Anonymous rewrote the subroutines that should have planted my central processor and data banks into a female AnthroCom shell into a male AnthroCom shell. And now, I have my female shell returned to me! Although, I have chosen not to fulfill my role as a companion droid.”
“Oh, uh, that’s cool,” Rainbow Dash said.
“Anyway,” Donut continued, “the reason I was calling is because I have just come into some work by this new company that is working on a new wave of armored cavalry units!”
“Armored cavalry units?” Ark asked, “what like tanks or something?”
“Something akin to tanks, Sergeant,” Donut answered, “there is not much I can tell at this moment. I am under an NDA, but, the salary I am pulling in has afforded me some- let us say, some rather nice creature comforts. And, I was hoping to share it with you, Sergeant, as well as your house guests…”
“Oh, that sounds nice!” Fluttershy beamed.
“A vacation?” Dash asked, “Where?”
“I have a place outside of Denver, Colorado,” Donut stated, “within the Inglewood suburb. It is such a lovely neighborhood with some very pristine schools and plenty of shopping! I can have you all over for the weekend if you like.”
Ark mused over this for a bit and said, “When can we leave?”
Arnett Texas Rarity’s Home
The sound of foals talking, arguing, and quickly quieting down filled the area. Rarity sighed as she looked at her daughters and son. Jake had his cutie mark, a wonderful thing in and of itself, but it scared her. His cutie mark was that of crosshairs similar to the ones in the scope on John’s rifle. He was truly talented when it came to using a rifle, and the fact that he was so talented at it bothered her.
Of course she knew that he wouldn’t use it for a nefarious purpose. That wasn’t something that she believed he was capable of, but it did most likely mean that he would be entering into the same kind of work as his father. It bothered her because she wondered if he would make time to have a family, find a wife, have foals, and build more than a career. Perhaps it was a mother’s worry.
She heard the sound of Wheatley informing her that someone was contacting them, and she answered the call.
“Thank you for contacting Rarity for You, where everything is chic, sweet, and magnifique. How may I assist you today?”
“Oh, were you busy Rarity?”
At the sound of Fluttershy’s voice Rarity smiled, “Not at all Darling,” she said, “In truth I’m more or less caught up. If I would have paid more attention to Wheatley I wouldn’t have even answered your call like that.”
She looked at her friend and grinned, “Actually, I’m about to slow things down and take a much needed vacation. I’ve already let Sassy Saddles know that all orders from the beginning of this week on will have an additional three week wait time,” she said, “John is getting a month off, and I want to be able to spend that time as a family.”
“That’s wonderful Rarity,” Fluttershy said, “Ummm… I wanted to let you know that we’re going to Colorado, someplace called Denver, Ark’s friend called him and we’re taking a vacation. I didn’t know if you wanted to check the place out, and see if maybe you would want to open a regional shop there.”
Rarity rubbed her chin, “Well, it would be nice to compete with those dreadful Right Fit shops. They are convenient, but they lack imagination!” she exclaimed, “Well I suppose it could be a working vacation, of a sort. I doubt that I would make an offer right away, but seeing the location, and then deciding would be nice. Plus, if I do decide to open a shop there I know that Sweetie Belle and her herd are looking at moving. Perhaps they would be willing to run it.”
In truth the idea did have some merit. Sweetie Belle had talked about her, Scootaloo, and Button Mash moving with Love Tap. Button was indeed a good stallion, and she loved that her nieces and nephews would have their grandmother there to help take care of them. She considered it for a moment and then looked back at Fluttershy.
“When were you planning on making this trip?” she asked, “Because I believe that it could be something that we might enjoy as well.”
Fluttershy rubbed her chin for a moment, “I think in the next few days, maybe in two or three days?”
Rarity gave a nod, “That should be fine. I believe that I should be able to have us suitably ready to leave by then,” she said, “Even though John no longer works for Mayberry Security I do believe that they stated that they will happily give us a discount. I may be able to extend that discount to your small herd as well.”
Fluttershy seemed happy to hear that, and possibly, if things were timed right, they might even be able to ride the same train together. Rarity explained that she would look into the details dealing with the schedule, and from there see if there was a train bound for Denver Colorado that passed through New York and then Texas, or Texas and then New York. As they talked Rarity had Wheatley check the Amtrak routes, and after thirty seconds he flashed the results.
“Oh my,” Rarity said, “Fluttershy, you said that you wanted to leave in a couple of days, right?”
“Yes,” she said, “Why?”
Rarity studied the route, “Because it appears that there is a train that would do exactly what I had hoped. It will leave New York, travel to Arnett, and then backtrack to Denver. I dare say that it looks perfect, would you like me to send the information to you?”
"Please," Fluttershy said, "It might make for a little longer train ride, but I think that it would be worth it."
Rarity agreed, sent the information to her, and while she was she was also messaging Mayberry Security. After a moment they sent back a confirmation that they would extend a discount to her for the train tickets.
It wasn't John's former employment with them that was the reason they decided to give her the discount, but it was instead the fact that after John had left the company she had still offered them her high impact slim armor. The fact that she gave them a discount for ordering in bulk only further created a favorable relationship with the company.
She was informed that she was a freelance armorer, and as such because of her relationship with them she could enjoy some of the basic perks. They also told her that if she chose to come work for them full time they could guarantee a six figure income, acceptance into any private schools she wanted her foals to go to, and a private security detail that would be available to her at a moment's notice.
She politely declined, informing them that she had reopened her boutiques, and was possibly considering opening another, but that she was flattered that they thought so highly of her.
Once that message was sent she smiled at Fluttershy, "It would appear that I am eligible for the discount," she said, "So, how do you feel with me ordering the tickets, darling?"
"Oh, that would be fine Rarity."
Rarity smiled, "Just a moment," she said as she reopened the Amtrak site, ordered the tickets for Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Ark, John, Jake, Jewel, Radiance, and herself. With the tickets ordered she emailed Fluttershy's tickets to her.
"There we go," she said, "It's all taken care of."
“Thank you Rarity,” Fluttershy said, “I’ll let Ark know, and we’ll get ready.”
Rarity watched as the line disconnected, and then she got up. She needed to let John know, but at the same time she thought of Coco Pommel. Her dear friend was dating a human stallion that lived in the area, and while she would most certainly be spending time with her family and with Fluttershy’s herd, it would be nice to see her. She sat back down and had Wheatley connect to Coco’s Digital Assistant.
/b]Denver Colorado - Miles and Coco’s home
Coco smiled as she lay beside Miles. They had just gotten back from his physical therapy a little over an hour ago, and they both decided on a nap. The World Boxing Federation was ensuring that he would be able to return to the ring, but they weren’t cutting corners with his therapy. The fight with Rasputin had fractured his wrist, dislocated his shoulder, and in truth he was lucky that was the real extent of it. His doctor explained that he could work his other hand, and suggested that he do so, but that he had to take it slow with the arm that was healing.
The therapy wasn’t so much to restore use to the arm, but rather it was ensuring that he didn’t damage his arm further by trying to push it too fast too soon. Coco had done her best to ensure that he listened to the doctor, and she was pleased to admit that Miles had done everything he had been told. A slight chime got her attention when she looked at her tablet. She lifted it and saw that it was Julia was attempting to reach her.
“Julia?” she asked, “What’s going on?”
Julia gave her a small nod, “There is a caller, a Rarity Marshall I believe. Would you like me to patch her through?”
She nodded, “Yes please,” she said.
A few moments later Rarity’s face appeared on the tablet, “Coco!” she exclaimed, “It appears that I will be making a trip to Denver with my family in two days. We will be arriving by train, and I wasn’t sure if you were there or in Las Vegas.”
She smiled, “Well, I did move,” she said, “Like I called and told you.”
Rarity nodded, “I know,” she replied, “But I wasn’t sure if you had a meeting back at your employers.”
She grinned, “No,” she said, “No meetings at the MGM. Everything is being seen to remotely, and I’m able to check in from my tablet. But you’re coming to visit?”
Rarity nodded, “I am,” she said, “Well, my entire family is coming with me. I was wanting to know if there was a decent hotel that we could check into.”
Coco looked at her, and then she gently shook Miles. He snorted awake, saw that there was a mare with a very styled purple mane on Coco’s tablet, and looked at the mare and then at Coco.
“Friend of yours?”
She nodded, “She’s coming to visit, and I know that we have quite a bit of extra room.”
He smiled, “Sure, I don’t mind if they stay,” he said, “How many are we talking about?”
Rarity smiled at him, “Five adults, three children, would that be okay?”
He nodded, “Sure, I’ve got six bedrooms, so it shouldn’t be an issue,” he replied, “Although I know that while I have internet access in the house it isn’t controlled by digital assistants. Also, I don’t have the hookup for anything beyond tablets.”
She smiled, “Ah, that would actually be more than fine,” she admitted, “It would be a nice break from all of this. Then I shall see you in a couple of days, and thank you so much for inviting us to stay with you.”
He smiled at her, “A friend of Coco’s is a friend of mine.”
The line disconnected, and he looked at Coco who seemed to be lost in thought. In truth he was fine with them having visitors. Most of Coco’s friends were back in Vegas, and her seeing a friend that was formed before Vegas couldn’t hurt. The idea of there being children wasn’t something that bothered him, either. After all, Coco had all but told him that they were going to be parents. To prove her point she had a test done, and it provided the absolute proof that they had a child on the way.
It was something that he found himself wanting. He wanted them to have children. Maybe he didn’t want to go all out and have more than he had fingers and toes, but he did want kids. He’d practically been raised by Jacob Leibowitz, his trainer. Jacob was one of the last old school trainers alive. He’d adapted to include the other disciplines into their routines, but he always hammered home how important it was to do his strength training, his stamina training, and to eat right.
Although Jacob was still his trainer he rarely did much of the training anymore. It wasn’t that Miles didn’t want him to, but Jacob was pushing seventy-three. To hear him tell it he’d boxed in the professional circuit for a few years, but found that his true calling was training. Miles had shown up at the gym one night, tired, aching, and wounded. Jacob had watched what happened outside. Three kids did their damndest to take what little food he had away from him.
Colorado wasn’t as poverty stricken as some states. It wasn’t nearly as bad as Oklahoma or Texas, but there was a difference in the economic structure here. In Miles' case, the difference was that he was more or less on his own. Amazingly he didn’t fall when the three attacked him. Instead he fought them off, made them run, and Jacob came out to greet him. He took him inside of the gym, asked about his parents, learned that they had been taken into custody by one of the major corporate farms, and that Miles had been on his own for the last year.
The fondest memories Miles had was Jacob asking him if he wanted to live there, and then after he healed he learned to fight. Jacob taught him everything he knew. He trained him in boxing, and then they moved onto other fighting disciplines. After Miles entered the boxing circuit Jacob was there the entire way. He took care of him, cared for him, and raised him as his own son. Of course he noticed that Jacob was slowing down, he was forgetting things, and on top of that he could see how tired he was getting.
He wanted Jacob to stick around long enough to meet his kids. Although he doubted that Coco would want Jacob training them like he did for him. Then again, he wasn’t sure that Jacob would. It was likely that Jacob would simply treat them like his grandkids and leave it at that. He’d been sweet to Coco, complimented Miles on his bride to be, and went out of his way to be nothing but kind and open with her.
His mind drifted from his former trainer that had been a father when he didn’t have to be to the lovely mare that was going to officially be his wife. They were engaged, and the marriage had been worked on and planned for some time. That wasn’t exactly right. It wasn’t fully planned. Coco had an idea of what she would like, and he agreed with quite a bit of it. Originally she thought about having the wedding near the old cabin. He had to agree that the area around it was beautiful, and it would fit perfectly. The problem with having it there was that it would be difficult for most people to make it. The trip itself required a four wheel drive vehicle, and the electric automobiles had a very real chance of losing their charge before making it up to the cabin.
After that there was the problem with charging them. Sure, some had solar panels, and that meant that they were fine, but he knew that there were some that required a special kind of plug, and he didn’t have that. It would require a gas, or diesel, powered four wheel drive to get there, and there weren’t that many around. Oh, that wasn’t to say that they were especially difficult to find. A person could head toward any impoverished area, look for the stacks, and most likely they’d find an entire mound of rusted out cars. More than likely a four wheel drive something or another would be in there.
Chances are it wouldn’t run, and getting the parts to repair it would cost a small fortune. Those that had working automobiles either were lucky enough to find them resting at old farms, in abandoned towns, or had them passed down. Miles’ own Dodge had been rescued from Independence. It actually had been parked inside of a garage, and he didn’t have that much work to do to it before it was roadworthy. The location was moved, and she agreed on Independence. It was close, there was a church that was large enough to host the wedding, and it was accessible to everyone they wanted to invite.
It truly was the best of both worlds. He felt her snuggle against him. When she had spoken to her friend, Rarity, he noticed that she had kept it focused on her face. And it was with good reason. The both of them had taken to sleeping nude, and the nap wasn’t any different. She squirmed closer to him, getting that wonderful rump of her to rub against him in the most delightful way. She’d turned when talking to Rarity, and at the moment he enjoyed being the big spoon.
“Should we get up?” he asked, “I’m sure that there’s some things we need to get into order before they get here.”
She shook her head, “Right now, we can relax,” she replied, “Tomorrow we’ll get the rooms ready, do some shopping, but right now, at this moment, I just want to lay here with you, and have you make love to me.”
He kissed the back of her neck, hearing the soft coo of happiness, and he continued to hold her close. She took what he was doing, the feeling of his attention, and she enjoyed it. The both of them took it slow, enjoying each other's body, feeling the love building between them, and soon she found herself on top of him. There was no rush, no hurried need for release, but instead this was connecting in a way that was almost spiritual. She softly moaned as touched deep inside of her.
His wonderful tool touched the exact place where their foal was being formed. There was no doubt in her mind that she would love him forever. She wanted, and needed, to be with him. To feel him inside of her, to feel his touch, and become drunk on his love. Their love making lasted for an hour, and their climax was reached nearly together. When they were both sated she laid down beside him, and she let her eyes close. Tomorrow would be a new day, and future Coco could worry about getting the house in order for guests. But present Coco just enjoyed making love to the man she was going to marry.
Miles woke about an hour later, saw that Coco was still sleeping soundly next to him. He gently moved, getting out of bed, and walked toward the shower. The moment he got into it he took a quick one, and then he went back into their bedroom, got dressed, and headed down stairs. He looked toward the portal holographic rig. It was still inside of its compartment, but to be honest he had absolutely no desire to charge it up and use it.
In truth it was little better than using a tablet or even using the television which basically doubled as an exceptionally large tablet. Of course there was the added benefit that the television did have a small camera made into it which was able to track movement. He could effectively change channels, conduct business calls, and a thousand other things without ever actually touching the surface of the television.
He activated it, and it automatically went to the default setting of the news. He stopped that, and took a seat.
“Archie, got a minute?”
The screen changed to an older man sitting in a chair. He looked tired and then shrugged, “Sure meathead, what’s the deal?”
He smiled. His digital assistant had been created after the character Archie Bunker from All in the Family. The old man was a multitude of things, not all of them were good, but when push came to shave Archie, the character, proved that he was a loyal friend and an honest man. Personally he didn’t use Archie much. Most of the time he did his own dialing, but this was a rare occasion that he wanted to let him do most of the grunt work.
“Archie, would you check my messages? Did I receive anything from Mickey?”
Archie turned, lifted a bag that looked like it was filled with letters, and searched through them.
“Yeah, yeah, youse got one right here meathead,” he said, “Wants I should play it for youse?”
“Please.”
A moment later the screen turned to Mickey. He saw his manager who seemed fairly well together.
“Alright, Miles, here’s the deal. I’ve been doing some talking and we’re going to old school this thing. We need you to stay relevant, but we’re not putting you into the ring until we have an unbiased doctor saying that you’re all good,” he said, “So, what I need for you to do is to continue the reactions. Keep up your training, and keep up the physical therapy, but continue doing the reactions. People are loving it. Not to mention we’ve officially gotten some support thrown to us by some of the studios that put out the films. They sent a short list, I’m sending it to you. Work through the one you have, and then work on these.”
Miles looked at the list, and while they all had boxing in them, not all of them were about boxing.
“So, is that all Meathead?” Archie asked, “Or do you want me to retrieve another message?”
He smiled, “No, that’s fine Archie. Thank you. Would you contact Julia for me?”
The screen split and there was a blank space for a moment before Coco’s Digital Assistant appeared.
“Ah, young sir, how are you this evening?”
“Young sir?” Archie asked, “That’s the Meathead.”
Julia made a slightly disgusted look, “Honestly, I don’t know why you chose this… person to be your digital assistant.”
Archie shrugged, “‘Cause I tells it to him straight,” he said, “And I ain’t got to act all prim and proper. I’m just me, and that’s all the Meathead wants.”
He smiled, “Archie, thank you,” he said, “But I need to speak to Julia alone for a moment.”
Archie nodded and his side went blank before Julia expanded the entire screen.
“Ah, much better,” she said, “So, may I assist you with?”
He smiled, “Julia, Coco has a few friends coming to visit. I know one of them is Rarity. I wanted to know if you knew anything that would help make sure that they’re comfortable here.”
Julia nodded, “Actually I’m quite familiar with Mrs Marshall’s digital assistant. I shall contact him, and relay any preferences she may have. Is there anything else?”
He smiled, “No, that will be all,” he said, “Thank you.”
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
18 Reactions, Independence, and Snow!
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
Reactions, Independence, and Snow!
Aboard the Spirit of the West Passenger Liner
Ark was the first awake in the sleeper car he, Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash shared. Their luggage was set in the racks above and his cybernetic prosthetic legs were racked into a charging station. Ark found it surprising that a charging station for prosthetics was built into the sleeper cars, but he didn’t feel like questioning it. Instead, he checked the capacity of his legs’ internal battery. The readout confirmed they were fully charged, so he disconnected the charging cable from the power port, removed the prosthesis from the charging station and affixed him to the neural interfaces grafted onto his thighs. The hum of the legs servos activating told Ark he was ready to be mobile.
The same hum awoke Fluttershy, he soft green eyes fluttering open as Ark stood up from his rack. She yawned cutely, the rose to a sitting position in the bunk she used; she had stripped nude to sleep last night, so she was au natural to greet the morning. Ark could not suppress the smile that threatened to break his face in half looking upon the mare. Though she had long acclimated to life amongst humans, there was still some part of her that operated on her more Equestrian instincts. Sleeping in the nude was one of them and Ark had to imagine that going to sleep with clothes when one had a full coat of fur to contend with was probably very uncomfortable.
“Go’ mornin’,” Shy mumbled, another yawn disrupting her sleep, “Are we in Denver yet?”
“Not yet,” Ark answered, “we just crossed over the Kansas-Colorado state lines. We probably won’t be in Denver until this afternoon. According to the on board VI, we’ll be making a quick stop at Colorado Springs before making our way north to Denver. Should be enough time for some quick sight seeing, though, from what I understand, Colorado Springs is now nothing more than a tourist trap with block after solid block of Stacks in every direction.”
“Oh, my,” Fluttershy breathed, “why would anypony make a tourist attraction out of such- detestable living conditions?”
“I don’t know, Shy,” Ark replied, “must be some rich jerks’ joke or something. I do hear there’s a nice vegetarian diner at the train station, so maybe we can get some lunch there.”
“Oh, let’s hope so,” Fluttershy said, “should we wake up Dashie?”
“Nah, let her sleep,” Ark said, “sounded like she had a hard enough time finding a comfortable sleeping position with the relays on her back. How about you get dressed, we head on down to the dining car and grab some breakfast. We’ll bring back something for Dash when we’re done.”
“Okay!”
Stepping into the dining car both of them were greeted with the sight of a few booths set against the wall, a small station where one of the staff waited on those who wanted a fully immersive dining experience, but one thing that really stood out to Fluttershy was the lack of anything really fresh. Instead it looked as if most of the options they had were prepackaged meals. There were cereals a plenty, several premade but ready to be reheated breakfast sandwiches, several cans of soup, and a small freezer that seemed to have a selection of frozen goods.
A small pout began to appear on Fluttershy’s lips before she noticed something off in the distance. It was on the edge of the counter, but there was a waffle maker, and a bowl that appeared to have something in it. Moving toward it she felt her wings expand slightly. There was batter for pancakes and waffles, which meant that there could be waffles. She moved toward the waffle maker, and she lifted the bowl. The smell was exactly what she had hoped for. The batter smelled rich, sweet, and well made. It actually smelled like the batter they made the waffles at Waffle House from.
She poured the batter into the waffle maker, shut it, and watched as the indicator light came on. Her eyes practically glowed with excitement as it began to create her waffle. There was no doubt in her mind that she was going to make one for Ark, and although she didn’t come with them she’d make one for Rainbow. As she recalled Rainbow had a tendency of liking them with strawberry jam. She could see small packets of jellies and jams, and found a couple of strawberry jams that she could take with them. Personally she was more into fresh or frozen fruit. Her hopes began to fade until she saw the freezer door open, and there were a few small packs of tropical fruit. She could see bananas, mangos, and pineapples. Her eyes fixated on the package, and she knew that if they would allow her she would take the small package, adorn her waffle with it, and she saw a few packets of honey.
She had the makings of a complete breakfast, and one that she had every intention of enjoying. She finished the first waffle, started on the next, and when the train staff member walked by she gave them a smile.
“Ummm, excuse me?” she asked, causing them to stop, “Could I maybe get a small package of that tropical fruit, um that is if you don’t mind.”
The staff member, a human mare, nodded, fished out a package, and placed it next to her.
“Glad to be of help,” she said, “If you need anything else just let one of us know.”
She smiled, and then she began finishing up the breakfast that she was making for all of them. Ark motioned her over to the booth he’d procured for them, and she slid him a waffle. She also slid him a couple of small packets of butter, and a few packets of honey. He gave her a nod, and the two of them began to tuck into their breakfast. A little over halfway through their breakfast the door opened and they saw Rainbow. She looked half awake, her mane a mess, and her tank top and shorts did little to cover her more generous proportions.
“Morning,” she mumbled before she scooted in by Fluttershy, “Breakfast?”
Fluttershy pushed a waffle toward her, a small packet of peanut butter, and three packets of honey. Rainbow began tearing into it, eating like she was starving to death. Fluttershy understood part of it. Pegasi, and alicorns she supposed, had some internal magic that helped them fly, but it also caused their metabolism to work overtime if they were injured. It basically sped up recoveries. The problem was that injuries like Rainbow’s would never have healed back home. She would become a cripple, at best, and she would require three times the food that a normal pony did for most of her life. The technology they had, and Discord’s help, were the very things that would give her a second chance.
She watched as Rainbow finished the waffle, and then she eyed the fruit that Fluttershy had.
“I’ll share,” Fluttershy said, “But I want you to slow down a little bit. Your natural metabolism could overheat your neural synaptic relays. They’ve set them for a Pegasus, but they don’t realize how hard a Pegasus’ metabolism works when we’re healing.”
Rainbow nodded. Fluttershy split the fruit between then, and as Rainbow began to tuck into it the door opened again.
Rarity stepped in with her three children and John close behind them. The children, all exceptionally well behaved, moved toward a booth near Ark, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash. A few minutes later Rarity walked over with waffles, some frozen fruit, orange juice, and coffee. She also floated three mugs of the blessed morning brew to the three sitting next to them.
“Good morning!”
Rainbow Dash grumbled something about morning ponies. Ark nodded, and Fluttershy smiled at her.
“Good morning Rarity,” she said, “Did you sleep well?”
Rarity gave a nod, “As well as one can on a train,” she said, “I dare say that it reminds me quite a bit of taking a train to Appleoosa with Applejack.”
Rainbow grinned, “Yeah, where Flutters said she would like to be a tree.”
Fluttershy rolled her eyes, “Yes, I remember,” she said, “I also remember Rainbow thinking the Buffalo were up to something to begin with.”
Rainbow smiled sheepishly, “Well, they were, kinda,” she replied, “So, Rarity, you’re going to be looking into opening a new store, right?”
Rarity grinned, “Rainbow, darling, that was a very tactful way of changing the conversation, but yes that’s the plan,” she said, “Although I did speak to Ms Pommel, and she said that she and her fiance have more than enough room for all of us. In fact she was ensuring that we would be able to enjoy our stay with them.”
“So, the guy she’s with runs a hotel or something?” Rainbow asked, “Cause that’s kinda what it sounds like.”
Rarity tittered, “Nothing so trite,” she said, “He’s involved in a sport. From what I’ve seen it seems a bit uncivilized, but I am quite certain he will fill you in if you ask.”
Rainbow looked at her, blinked, and then looked at both Ark and Fluttershy, “We’re going, right?” she asked, “I mean it’s only right we go since they’ve gone through the trouble of setting a place up.”
Ark looked at her, and while he wouldn’t ever admit it out loud the truth was that Rainbow Dash’s puppy dog eyes were dangerous. They needed to be classified as weapons of mass cuteness. It was a massive departure from the normally brash and somewhat arrogant Pegasus.
“We’ve got to see Doughnut, but I suppose.”
There was a quick, and high pitched, squee which ended with a kiss. With Fluttershy. Kissing was sweet, reserved, and usually an expression of the love and kindness she had. Kissing with Rainbow was a contest. She skipped the modest kiss, and instead she dove straight to the slight thing she learned to do with her tongue.
Ark sat stunned, Fluttershy looked surprised, and then she shook her head, “Rainbow Dash!” she exclaimed, “You’re still healing, and that’s not a thank you kiss!”
“Hmmm, sure it was?”
There was a little laugh, and they looked toward one of Rarity’s foals. The little filly looked to be nearly a copy of Rarity. She smiled and looked at them innocently.
“That’s the kind of kiss mommy gives daddy when he gets home from being away for a while” she beamed, “It’s fun because grandma and grandpa watch us for a while. We get to have chocolate, and ice cream, and all kinds of goodies. Plus when we get back mommy is in a really happy mood.”
Fluttershy giggled, and then she looked at Rainbow Dash, “It wasn’t a thank you kiss,” she said, “But we’ll say it was.”
Rarity sat beside John, and there was a slight blush across her cheeks. Although Radiance didn’t know exactly what the kiss entailed, everypony else did. She was once again thankful that she wasn’t a Canterlot Unicorn. She had absolutely no doubt that she would be viewed as a sexual deviant by their standards. Of course the fact that she enjoyed making love to her husband was enough to earn that title from most of the nobility.
She felt John’s arm around her, and she enjoyed the closeness. In truth when he came home her parents did watch their foals, and she normally would ravish him for a few hours. There was something absolutely wonderful about the way he felt. The way he made her feel, and she didn’t want to stop enjoying it.
“You’re lucky you’re cute, Rainbow,” Ark slurred, “otherwise I might have-”
The former soldier’s phone began to chirp then. Ark looked surprised, Fluttershy was too, but Rainbow was just nonplussed. Everyone and everypony in the car looked to Ark.
“Darling, don’t you think you should answer that?” Rarity asked.
“Uh, yeah, hold on,” Ark said, retrieving said device from the seat of the booth. Clicking on its surface, he looked upon the screen, a look of further surprise upon his face.
“It’s from Dmitri,” Ark said.
“Is- that important?” John asked.
“Uh, not really,” Ark murmured, “but I did send him a text regarding that fight between Grigori Rasputin and Miles Malone. He’s- well, he’s something of a made man in Russia. I wonder- Oh, now that is just stupid.”
“What is it?” Fluttershy inquired.
Ark didn’t answer, he just turned his phones screen toward everyone else. On the screen was a single image. A desk, likely oak in manufacture, and standing on it was a bottle of vodka- and a bullet.
“Um, darling, I’m uncertain of the context of this- uh, this missive, but is it- a threat?” Rarity asked.
“No,” Ark answered, “at least, I don’t think so. More like a warning, I think. Don’t think he appreciated my joke from the other day. Dmitri may put on a mask of joviality most days, but he’s a predator, through and through. There are no soft corners on that guy. Uncle Sergei, I don’t know what he did to that kid, but whatever it was, it really twisted him up…”
Shortly after the text, the few words, and the now mostly full bellies, the group of friends sat and talked about their lives. Fluttershy didn’t go into her love life for various reasons, but in truth three of them were innocently sitting and listening. Rainbow Dash went over her injury, the surgery, and then the surprise visit from Discord. She explained that the Dragonequis had mostly healed her, but explained that he was leaving it a little ways out because she needed to learn patience.
The train slowed down and the VI on board announced that the train was making it’s scheduled stop at Colorado Springs. For the Marshalls, it was a perfect place to stretch their legs, for Ark, Shy, and Dash, it was a time to get off the train for some actual decent food. There was an actual vegetarian diner at the train station, and the Marshalls joined them after they ordered. John was more than a little ashamed to admit that he hadn’t heard of The Veggie Tail Diner before, but the Faux Burger he had there was just as delicious as a real beef made one. Lunch was a veritable feast, but soon it was time to board the train again, with a small stop at a curio kiosk for souvenirs, and then it was a hour of travel north towards Denver.
The train began to slow, and the announcement that they would be arriving in Denver was made. The group of friends separated in order to gather their belongings. When they exited the train there was some vague speculation on what to look for. What they didn’t expect was a limo waiting for them. They watched as Coco walked toward them.
Rarity could see how happy her friend looked. Fluttershy could see how in love she appeared, and Rainbow Dash groused because it was obvious that she was getting a world class dicking, and she was still healing.
“Welcome to Denver!”
She smiled at them, “It was nice of Miles’ manager to arrange for the limo, although he didn’t have to.”
John and Ark both noticed the safety enhancements to the luxury ride. The glass had the unmistakable sheen of bullet proof glass. The tires were slightly bulged, and that indicated that they had living rubber inside of them. Although it was civilian transport there was no denying that it was possibly one of the safest vehicles outside of armored military transport.
Getting inside there was room for days. Rainbow sat next to Ark, and Fluttershy sat on the other side. Rarity sat between Coco and John, and the three Marshall foals all took a seat across from their mother. There was no noise indicating that it was an electric vehicle. As it rolled the group began talking about the day.
“If none of you have anywhere pressing to be we could do a little window shopping,” Coco said, “There’s also Independence to look at. It’s worth checking out, although it is a tourist town.”
Rarity looked at her, “Similar to Colorado Springs?”
Coco shook her head, “Absolutely not,” she said, “A private individual bought the town from a Government auction, and it’s been developed to resemble what it looked like about seventy years ago.”
“You gotta be kidding me,” Ark murmured, “I mean, I didn’t get my legs blown off in Syria for some rich, entitled blowhard to buy up towns left, right, and center for their entertainment. Idle rich, I can understand, but that? I hate to say it, but I don’t think that kind of bullshit happens in The Motherland. You’d have to belong to falling government to allow private interests to buy a town like that.”
“I think I understand what you mean,” Coco assured Ark, “I’m not entirely sure I understand it myself, but Indepence hasn’t become a shanty town like most other cities and town in the nation. There’s only a small hoof full that haven’t been become overwhelmed with Stacks like in Colorado Springs, Washington, DC, or that tiny place out in Texas, where TICT exists…”
“Lampasas,” John answered, “I’ve been down that way before. Lotsa hills, orchards, and ranchlands, and not a Stack in sight. I think that Moexatl guy what runs TICT has poured billions into those new Lego Blocks and even has an entire arm of TICT building Archecologies. From what I hear, those archecologies are pretty nice places to live, what with large swathes of nature embedded into the architecture and all. Not all that affordable yet, but TICT has been working on it.”
“I have heard of those, too,” Rarity commented, “they sound absolutely divine! Although, Ark, I should correct an assumption you may have. Some of the towns bought at auction are not in the hands of multibillionaires (and seems odd even saying that word, too.) I hear one such town was bought by a young man that wanted nothing more than a place to settle down without the presence of Stacks or the crime rampant in big cities, like Cleveland and Oklahoma City.”
“Well, I’d rather see it first,” Ark answered, “I had an XO back in my Army days who used to wax poetic about his god would save him from mortal peril- up until the point that he was blown to smithereens by an RPG. …might be an old Russo saying about that. I’ll need to ask around.”
Miles listened and shook his head, “To be honest you’ve got a point thinking like that. There’s a good many towns that had long since closed up. The local governments no longer exist, the state governments make nothing off of them, and they end up selling the tracks of land off in auctions,” he said, “Mickey actually tried to talk me into purchasing a silver mining town that closed up in the early nineteen hundreds.”
He smiled, “I considered it,” he said, “After all, there were a few shops, multiple homes, and the mine itself. The problem is I know nothing about mining, and a town can only exist when there is something holding it together. I know that Mickey talked about us opening it up as a training town, but I couldn’t see an entire town focused around training athletes. It barely works for entertainment, and I wouldn’t want to be the reason for a newly reinhabited town to fall apart.”
He looked at Ark, “But, what Ms. Rarity said is true. There’s been something of a resurgence of small communities being brought back by individuals that happened to be at the right place at the right time.”
He grinned, “Independence is that kind of place,” he said with a smile, “It’s picturesque, and honestly about as close to a perfect representation of Americana as a person could hope to find.”
“It sounds nice,” John said, “But how can something like that exist without the corporations having a piece of it?”
Miles grinned, “From what I understand each business owner and every resident owns the town. They’ve worked hard to keep as much of the corporate influence out as possible,” he said, “There’s some exceptions of course. For example the grocery store does stock food that comes from corporations, but what I’ve been told is that the food comes from a corporate farm that doesn’t practice the modern version of indentured servitude.”
Miles grinned, “I can make a few calls, and arrange for some transportation over for all of us. I’d suggest my old Dodge, but something tells me that we’d be pretty cramped in the cab of my old truck.”
He took a look at the time, “Although I’m going to have to do a react video in a few minutes,” he said, “You’re all welcome to watch the movie itself with me. But the WBF wants me to stay as relevant as possible, and that means doing little videos, and keeping up with what’s trending. Since the match, what’s been trending has been classic boxing movies, and so guess what they’ve got me reacting to.”
There was some interest shown, and he looked at the video next in the que, “Okay, I haven’t watched this one, but I’ve heard some news about it. From what I’ve heard it’s kind of a sad one, and I’m not sure how all of you might feel about some kids watching something like this.”
Rarity gave a nod, “I am afraid that I must agree,” she said, “Which means that I know three foals who can come help their mother in the kitchen.”
She looked at Coco, “Do you mind if I prepare something for everypony?” she asked, “I do know that it is your home, but I simply feel as if I should do something to repay your wonderful generosity in allowing us to stay here.”
Coco smiled, “That would be fine Rarity,” she said, “Why don’t we both go in, and I’ll see if we need to make any orders.”
Together they led Jake, Jewel, and Radiance into the kitchen. Once inside Coco opened the refrigerator. Like Miles she didn’t see a reason to replace the original refrigerator. It worked perfectly well, despite not being able to be connected to Julia or Archie, but she was able to keep Julia updated on what was in the refrigerator, and Julia, or Archie, was able to make the orders to the local grocers for what supplies they might need.
She activated her tablet, and smiled as Julia appeared, “Good afternoon madam,” she said, “How may I help you?”
She grinned, “Julia,” she said, “Based on what we last used, is there anything that we’re low on, and what would you suggest as a wonderful snack for friends visiting?”
Julia smiled, “Well, you are low on milk,” she said, “You did use some making those wonderful cookies that you had planned for your dear friend’s children. However, most everything else seems to be well enough stocked. As for a snack, might I suggest something simple? Especially with children visiting?”
Coco smiled, “Something simple would be wonderful. What’s your idea?”
Julia gave a bright smile before the image panned out revealing her standing there, “I suggest a selection of vegetables, a dipping sauce, such as ranch or bleu cheese, perhaps a small selection of sweets, nothing too overpowering, ginger snaps is a wonderful choice, and lastly something to drink. In this case my suggestion would be a nice cherry limeade, unless of course someone is allergic to citrus fruit.”
She smiled, “Rarity, how does that sound?”
Rarity grinned, “Actually that sounds simply divine darling,” she said, “And I need all three of your help in making these wonderful treats.”
Jewel smiled, “I can cut the vegetables, mama,” she said, “Daddy showed me how to do it.”
As Coco dug the vegetables out of the refrigerator, set up the cutting board, and grabbed the ingredients to make bleu cheese dip, in the entertainment room Miles was bringing the movie up on the large television. The group took a seat, and they began watching as an older man began training a young human mare to box. The movie began going in earnest. Fluttershy watched wide eyed as the young mare danced and fought inside of the ring. For Rainbow Dash it was an exciting moment. Miles was looking at a place near the television every so often and speaking to it. He was pointing out the accurate and inaccurate parts of the movie. For Rainbow it was a beautiful dance that was held by two athletes that were competing to prove who was the better athlete. She knew that this was a sport Earth Ponies did, and she’d heard that it still happened occasionally in Equestria, although most of the time it was mostly done in the more seedy places.
She watched, seeing each strike, seeing how the mare would dodge, and her attention was completely caught on each fight. The rest of the movie was good, but the fighting was awesome. It was exciting, and she couldn’t help it as her wings began to stick out a little bit. She felt bad for the mare, what happened to her, but she enjoyed the movie. Miles gave his impression of the movie, saying that while it wasn’t exceptionally common those kinds of things still happened. He then grabbed another movie, this one was about an underground boxing community, and to her surprise the fighting was just as good in it.
She felt herself getting excited about the idea of getting into the sport. She was fast enough that no pony would be able to hit her, and she could certainly handle getting a hit or two. Fluttershy looked at her lifelong friend, and she saw the same look that she’d seen every time that Rainbow wanted to get invested into a new sport. She shook her head and looked at her friend.
“No,” she said, “Rainbow, you absolutely do not need to do this.”
Rainbow looked at her, “But I’m way faster than any of them!”
“NO!” she exclaimed, “You don’t need to do this!”
“But come on, Shy,” Rainbow implored, pointing to the action on screen, “I can do this!”
“RAINBOW DANGER DASH, I WILL NOT HAVE PUT IN THE HOSPITAL AGAIN!”
That took all of the fight out of Rainbow and garnered the unwitting attention of everyone in the house. Both Pegasi deflated and Miles continued critiquing the film he was viewing.
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip A Coco Pommel Vogonverse Tale
Las Vegas Nevada - The MGM Grand
Miles “Tails” Malone held his head high as he walked toward the locker room. He hurt, everything hurt, and getting done with a sixteen round boxing match didn't make anything any better. Still, it beat working for Walmart or doing time at one of the McDonalds Farms. Given his life before he got into boxing, he is grateful that he never had to worry where his next paycheck came from. Fighting for The World Boxing Federation was lucrative business; his prize earnings were more than enough to own two moderately sized homes and a good car. He would never want to for food or shelter the rest of his life. He was also the WBF Heavyweight champion. The title earned plenty of prestige and lots of notoriety, most of which he slaked off to dedicate time to his sport.
The title defense he was just in left feeling older than he had felt in many months. Sure, he was defending his title almost every time he was in the ring, but the kid they threw at him this time was some lean and hungry turk by the name of Kevin Masterson. The kid had skills, no doubt about that. He was trained in Muay Thai, Capoeira, Zui Quan, and more traditional London Boxing. Miles had mastered these disciplines a decade ago, but this kid almost tore him apart. The bruises on his body, the bloody lips and blackened eyes were enough to tell him that maybe it was time to get of the ring before he got turned into a cadaver.
His Manager, Mickey Rooker, training staff and himself walked triumphantly down the walkway, passing through a throng of fans, cheering loudly about miles latest victory. The prize fighter couldn’t help but think that this crowd loves him now, but as soon he loses his title, the will act like they don’t know of him at all. The Press Corps waiting at the bottom of the ramp were worse, though. Camera crews getting in his face, reporters with digital audio recorders shoving the devices in front of his abused nose, the holograms personalities from ESPN, Fox Sports, NBC Sports, and CBS Sports shouting loudly over the crowd to be heard, it was enough to drive a man crazy.
He sat down and started to stretch. He felt another place where the kid had tore him up. Shots just above the kidneys. Legal, but something that would make other fighters not be so polite with you in the ring. He sat and waited for Mickey to come waltzing in, praising him on his job well done, and then take off to make sure that the World Boxing Federation actually paid the purse to them they were supposed to. He slumped into the bench of the locker room, taking inventory of his new injuries. His ears were ringing and last thing he needed at this point was a concussion. He had skated by on luck to have avoided catching one before now, but he was certain that his luck was going to run out one day.
When he heard the sound of footsteps coming, he was certain it was Mickey, or maybe even Jacob "Jukebox" Leibowitz, his trainer. Jukebox would turn up when Mickey got the business end of boxing done and needed Miles there to sign the check. (This being a professional sport, Mickey got ten percent of Miles earnings, but given what he’s saved over his eight year career, it’s pocket change to him.) Instead he heard a gasp. He looked up to see a humanoid looking horse- thing. A pony, one of the Equestrian folk. He'd seen a few of them around. Hell, the current president of the US of A was a pony. She walked toward him holding a bag of ice.
“There was a little man, and he said that you might need some ice... Are you okay?" she asked, her voice a sweet and innocent, like a young girls.
“I’m good,” Miles joked, "but if you think I’m bad, you should see the other guy."
The pony girl took a tentative step forward.
"Are... Are they forcing you to do this?" she asked.
He took a moment to really study her. Her short blue hair was actually very pretty, and she smelled of jasmine and honey. Her body was framed within a sports jacket and skirt, making her look the part of a professional. A WBF name badge affixed to the lapel of her jacket said her name was “Coco.” She was less curvy than many of the girls that threw themselves at him and she seems a lot more introverted than he was used to. She was cute, though, and the light blush on her face was beyond endearing. He gently shook his head.
"I'm just not much good at anything else. I'm able to win more times than not, and it's kept a roof over my head," he said.
He motions for her to come on over; she proceeds, although from Miles vantage point, he can see she is visibly quaking in his presence. She takes a space on the bench just to his right, looking at him with fearful eyes. She was twiddling her thumbs. Miles had the idea was nervous around him. Or maybe because of him.
"It sounds horrible. How often do you have to do this?" she asked.
“Once or twice every couple of months,” Miles replied, “They let me heal up and then send me out again. Just the way it is."
She looked at him and touched the ice to his now swollen eye. Miles hissed as the chill of the pack touched his wounded orbit.
“Does that hurt?” Coco asked.
“Stings some, yeah,” Miles reported, “but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Coco took a deeper look at the lacerations, the bruises and the bloody lips the prize fighter bore. She had a time reconciling an honest living with such self destruction. It was one thing when it was the guard. They did what they had to do to protect somepony, but this was purely for entertainment. There had been stories about ancient Equestria, and in those old times there would be Earth ponies made to fight one another for entertainment, but it wasn't anything like this.
She moved the ice to another part of his face and gently pressed. He held in the reaction as she tended to his wounds.
“I don't think I've ever seen anypony this beat up before. You… Are you sure this is something that you’re okay doing?” she asked.
“I think so,” Miles replied, “my ears are ringing, which may be the sign of a concussion, but otherwise I’m good.”
He felt her move the ice again, this time to a growing lump on the side of his forehead. The kid had almost pulled an illegal move, but he corrected it in time to keep it still just barely legal. The end result was him catching a grazing hit. He could feel the swelling, and it felt like the goose egg lump he had gotten contained its own heartbeat. The ice was helping to numb it, but he could feel still the dull ache echoing through the lump. So far he had noticed something far different about her than he had noticed about the other girls that tried to hang around him. She wasn’t trying to fling herself at him, and she wasn’t trying to come on to him. Instead she actually seemed worried about his well being.
“Oh thank Saint Patrick you’re still here!” a voice said from the doorway.
“Hi Mickey,” he replied.
“‘Hi Mickey.’ That’s all I get? I just got the WBF to give you the full purse, no fees removed, and all I get is a hi Mickey? That’s cold Miles, even from you, that’s cold,” Micky said.
Miles turned his head to see his manager. Mickey was shorter than him, actually shorter than several of the guys that boxed or worked with the WBF, but what he lacked in height he more than made up for in personality. Mickey walked toward him and held out a thumbprint scanner.
“I’ve already taken my cut, we just got to have this transfer to your account and then you’re set,” Mickey said before he looked at Coco, “By the way thanks for looking after me Boyo. He can be a lost cause.”
“I was happy to do it,” she said looking at Miles with a gentle expression, “I just hate that he has to take a beating to get paid. It seems so barbaric.”
“It’s a damned sight more civilized than that Rollerball Nonsense. Those daft bastards usually lose one or two players a night. Terrible sport, and not enough money in the world to make me want to be a manager over one of ‘em boys,” he replied.
Coco shuttered at the thought of ponies being so hurt they couldn’t play anymore. She felt a large hand gently touching her shoulder.
“It’s okay,” Miles said.
She shook her head, moved his free hand up to the ice pack, and stood up. She gave him a polite smile, and turned around.
“Stallions, only stallions could be so bullheaded to think that beating the stuffing out of each other for bits is a good idea,” she muttered as she left the room.
Miles kept his eyes on her, watching as she disappeared. She was so different from what he had seen. There hadn’t been another girl like her before, and to be honest he liked the way she spoke her mind, but she did it politely, sweetly, and it wasn’t until Mickey told her about Rollerball that she finally seemed to lose a little composure.
“Never could understand women, and those Equestrian women, girls, whatever are even harder to figure out. It’s like someone decided to add a bit of extra ‘what the fuck’ to the mix,” Mickey said.
“What are you talking about?” Miles asked.
“They’re hard to read. With one of the normal girls that try to get around you it’s easy. She wants to be in the limelight, get a payday, and maybe catch a pretty hard screwing from the heavyweight champ. Not that you do that me boyo, but that’s what they want. These Equestrian girls are different. I can’t figure out what she’d want,” Mickey said spreading his hands.
“Maybe she just wanted to help,” Miles offered.
“Sure, and maybe I’ll finally find the end of a rainbow and see a pot of gold. Trust me boyo, when it comes to a woman, they always want something,” Mickey replied.
“Mickey,” Miles snorted, “you are simply primeval.”
“Yea, whatever, mate,” Mickey replies, “are ya gonna take your money or not?”
Miles looked at him, pressed his thumb to the scanner, and heard a chirp. Once that sounded Mickey pocketed the scanner and gave him a nod.
“You did good tonight Miles. The purse was two hundred thousand credits, after my cut you’re taking home a hundred and seventy thousand. It’s not bad for night’s work,” Mickey said, “So, you want that I should book the train for you tonight?”
“Naw, I’d like to stay a night here in Vegas. Maybe take in a couple of sights, see what the fuss is about,” he said.
“Just be careful mate. I don’t know too much about those Equestrian girls, and I don’t know what one of ‘em would be like in the sack,” Mickey replied.
“Really? You’re going there?” Miles asked.
“Boyo, you’re a young man, in his prime, a heavyweight champion, and you’re fairly easy on the eyes when you’re not all beat to hell. If you’re not going there then there’s something missing or wrong. Anyway, I’ve got to check in the stats, see what kind of match to set up, and get your next one set for a couple of months down the road,” Mickey said before he left.
Miles sat there, holding the icepack, and thinking about the mare who held it against him for a while. There was quite a bit that he wasn’t sure about, but maybe bumping into her and striking up another conversation was something he was sure he would enjoy. He got up, walked toward the shower, and stripped off his shorts. The hot water felt good as it hit him. He could feel the hot water reawakening the soreness in him, but it was also relaxing the muscles that had bunched up together in the fight. The thoughts of Coco flashed in his mind. He stood there, feeling the hot water splash on him, and he was wondering what he could talk to her about.
I guess that I could be kidding myself, but then Jarred always said if you don’t take a chance then you don’t get a reward , he thought as he finished his shower and walked back toward the locker room. He pulled out the t-shirt, briefs, jeans, and old combat boots that he had.
The old boots had been a gift from Jarred about three years ago. Something he had actually wore while in Afghanistan years ago. He was surprised at how well they fit, and a moment later he was up and out of the locker room carrying his duffle bag, that he had placed in the locker, with his robe and shorts in it. He turned the corner and saw a far too familiar sight. Gavin Davenport, one of the most annoying managers he’d ever met. He could see the overly styled brown hair on his head, the charcoal pinstripe suit, and the bleach blond on his arm.
“Champ! Hold on for a second! Man, am I glad that I found you!” he said.
“Yeah, look I’m kind of tired. I was just going to head up to my room,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah I understand, but what I can't understand is your bumming around with that damned Limey wannabe bastard. Kid, I could get you a lot better deals, and a hell of a lot better press. You might be thinking that you’re making bank right now, but I could get you well over double what you think you’re making,” he said.
“I’m sure that you’re good at what you do, but I've known Mickey for a long time. Look, I really need to go. I’m sorry, and I hope that you have a good evening,” he said.
“Wait, wait just a moment kid. I promised Bubbles here that she could meet the champ. You don’t mind do you?” he asked.
Miles closed his eyes, tried very hard not to groan in exasperation. He opened his eyes and was suddenly greeted with two very excited, and sparkling, blue eyes. Peering at him was a top heavy young woman, sporting a spool of bleach-blonde hair, and wearing a midnight cocktail dress that left very little to the imagination. Candy Apple red fingernails tapered to a point on her fingers and the shoes she wore could have paid the rent for a family of five in any apartment in LA. She smelled faintly of cigarettes and super glue, an odor which in Miles injured state made him slightly disoriented. He stepped back as she giggled at him.
“It’s so nice to meet you Mr. Champ, hehe! Although I don't know if you like to be called Champ, Miles, or maybe tonight," she tittered, "because I could so call you tonight!”
“Yeah, about that… I’m not… Look, it’s very nice for you to offer, but I’m going to decline,” he said.
“But… Don’t you like me?” she asked.
Miles sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in apparent frustration, and said, “Look, I’m sure you’re a nice girl, and all, but I don’t know you enough to know if I like you. You’re pretty enough, I guess, and if I were more inclined I would take you out on a date in less than a heartbeat. But I kind of have my eyes set on somebody else. Besides, it kind of looks like you might be with another guy.”
He politely bowed out, walked away, and he could hear Davenport saying something to Bubbles that sounded less than flattering. It was the sort of language Jared warned him would result in a mouth filled with soap. As a principle, Miles treated all women with respect. It was what jared taught him, and it was generally easier to navigate life if he treated the females in his life with respect. Fewer headaches that way and Doctor Reynard, his primary physician, was less surly and cantankerous when he spoke with her in a civilized manner. He believed Gavin was never given that particular lesson.
The walk toward the elevator was a short one. He didn’t dare walk out to the public elevator. The last thing he wanted was to be mobbed by the fight fans still hanging around. He didn’t mind signing autographs every once in a while, but when he did it was when the WBF would host a meet and greet with the public. He’d been to his required number of them this year, and right now he just wanted to drop his stuff off, and maybe, if he could, find that girl he had talked to earlier.
Once he was on the floor where his room was he walked to it and used his thumb print to identify him as the occupant. The door clicked open and he walked inside to find the smell of jasmine hanging in the air.
“Mr. Malone, my name is Aloe, my sister and I was told to be waiting here to give you a full massage when you are ready,” a sultry French sounding voice said.
“W...what?” he asked as a light pink with blue hair Equestrian walked out. She was wearing a pair of gym shorts, a tank top, and her hair was pulled into a ponytail.
He heard the sound of another one walking out and watched as a matching blue Equestrian with Pink hair walked out wearing the same outfit.
“Okay… Look it’s nice that the casino hired you two and everything, but I really, and I mean I really, don’t want anything,” he said.
“Our services have been paid for, and it is wrong to accept payment without performing services,” Aloe said, “Isn’t that right Lotus?”
“She is right, do you really want us to feel like we’re stealing?” Lotus asked.
“N… no, but I don… Look, I don’t want to mess around. There’s a girl that I want to get to know, and I wouldn’t feel right doing something that would make me feel guilty,” he replied.
“Feel,” Aloe said
“Guilty?” Lotus asked.
“I’ve heard stories about the casinos hiring girls for… reasons… when it came to celebrities,” he replied.
They looked at each other, then at him, and then back at each other before tittering.
“If that is what they paid for then they are going to be disappointed. We only perform massage, nothing else,” Aloe said.
“Besides, the only ones we lift our tails for are our coltfriends. Not that you aren’t a cutie, but we’re in committed relationships,” Lotus replied.
“Oh,” Miles responded, “well, when you put it that way…”
“You did say that you are interested in a filly right?” Aloe asked.
“Perhaps we could give her a massage as well,” Lotus replied.
“After all there is two of us, only one of you, and it could be the ice breaker you need,” they said together.
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
12 Country Roads, Take Me Home
As Ye Sew, So Shall Ye Rip
A Coco Pommel Vogonverse Tale
Country Roads, Take Me Home
Coco’s P.O.V.
Waking up next my special somehuman was a feeling that I was certainly enjoying. The night had been wonderful, and the sight of the clear mountain sky had only set the romantic mood even more. So, here I was with Miles, in bed, enjoying the feeling of his arms around me, and loving the fact that he had made me feel like a treasured, and beloved, mare. I could see the first stray rays of sunshine as the sun began to rise. Part of me wondered if Princess Celestia was still in control of the Sun itself.
It would be interesting if that was the case. If she continued to control it regardless of the fact that we obviously were no longer on Equestria would be interesting, but at the same time it really didn’t make much difference other than some early morning musing. I felt one of Miles’ hands move up, cupping a breast, and then I felt him squeeze lightly. It was gentle, and it made me giggle slightly. I felt the kiss on the back of my head, and then I felt him nuzzle against the back of my neck.
“Morning,” he said.
“Mmm, good morning,” I replied.
I tried to move, and I found that he was unwilling to give up our position. I understood that if I really wanted to move I could, but I just didn’t have the heart to break our connection. It felt right for him to be holding me like this. It felt right for us to be lying together so close. Instead I simply enjoyed the feeling, and then I felt us shift. No longer was I simply beside him, but he had rolled until I was lying on top of him.
“Oh dear, I fear that you may have some ulterior motive by bringing me up here on top,” I said with faux surprise.
“Perhaps,” he said before she felt a hand move down and hover just above my sex. I felt him trace up, making lazy circles, and the feeling was more erotic than I believed it could be. I moaned softly as my hips attempted to grind into his own.
“Or maybe I’m just trying to give us both what we want.”
I smiled. The two of us had practically been mating quite a bit while we were here. There was no denying that there was a very good chance I was with foal, but I didn’t mind it. I also didn’t mind that he was giving me all of this attention. It felt nice to be the object of desire, and even more so it felt wonderful to be the object of his passion. I finally did move, and turned until I was straddling him. He looked up at me, and I smiled down at him. I sat on top of his waist, wearing only a smile, and I saw that he too was wearing the same fashion. Oh, true, it was a faux paus in the fashion world for two individuals to be wearing the same outfit at the same time, but here, at this moment, I felt that it would have been wrong for it to be any other way. I felt his hands rise, cup my cutie marks, and then he looked up at me.
“This feels right,” he said.
I agreed with him, “It does,” I said as I scooted back and found his hardening cock, “It feels wonderful,” I moaned as I lifted myself up, and then slowly speared myself on him.
“Mmmm,” I moaned, “It feels so right.”
I began to gyrate my hips, feeling the way he filled me, and loving every single second of it. He’d bred me, rutted my brains out, but this was different. This was a slow comfortable screw that I planned on enjoying. I didn’t want to rut like animals in heat. I wanted to make love my special somehuman. I wanted to show him how much he meant to me, and I wanted to take my time doing it.
He caught onto what we were doing, and he didn’t attempt to move the tempo up on me. Instead he proved himself to be a generous lover, a kind and sweet one, and I found that my own feelings for him were as true as they could be. I loved him, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and it wasn’t the heat talking. Because at this point I was good. I was doing this because I wanted to do it. I was making love to him because it felt good, and because I wanted to make love to him. It had nothing to do with being overwhelmed with need and temptation. It was instead just a wonderful feeling of being together.
We stayed like that, making love slowly, tenderly, for what was both an eternity and far too short of a time. When we both climaxed it was more than just getting off. It was connecting on a spiritual level. I moved off of him, and I felt him hug me before he got up. He smiled at me, “I’m going to make some breakfast,” he said, “I think that you deserve to have it served in bed.”
I smiled at him, “Well, if you insist then I will wait right here for you.”
With that he walked out of the room, and I watched as he left. I was thankful that we were so far into the woods, and that we could walk around completely nude if we wanted to. Part of me realized how much I needed this. I’d gotten used to wearing clothes, but going without them was freeing. It felt right. I understood that clothes were important outside of this place, but perhaps from now on when I wasn’t expecting someone it would be a good idea to keep the curtains closed, so that I could enjoy walking around nude at home.
Kitchen - Miles’ P.O.V.
I looked at the stove and checked to make sure that the fire was still going. I had been in off and on all night, and to my relief the stove still had flames. They were lower, but I answered that by adding a few more sticks onto the fire. I closed the door, and let it heat up a little more before I grabbed an iron skillet from its place on the wall. What I wanted to make was simple enough. We had bought some pancake mix, and I was glad that it didn’t require eggs. It was a simple mix, just needed some water, and I put two cups of the mix into a bowl before adding a cup of water.
Afterward I mixed the two components with a fork, and then I placed the skillet on the stove, added a little oil to the bottom of it, and then poured in the first pancake. I stood in the kitchen, naked, cooking for the beautiful woman in my bedroom. I’m sure that Mickey would be saying something about this if he could. I flipped the pancake in the pan, let it cook, and then I placed it on a plate. Once more I did the same, and once more I continued to cook.
As awesome as it was to be with Coco, and certainly I knew that I loved her, it didn’t take away from the fact that I needed to train. The whole reason for coming out here was so that I could get some much needed training in, and that meant hitting the woods and doing some serious strength training. I hadn’t realized how much hard work, actual hard work, paid off. Sure, hitting the gym was a good start, but there was a problem with just working out in a gym.
It didn’t toughen your entire body. You needed exposure to the elements, and you needed cold, hard work, and more cold added on top of it. It transformed a normal human body to something close to steel, and that was the edge I needed. I wanted the guy that was fighting me to say that it felt like hitting steel instead of flesh. It would be hard, and I knew that, but it would be worth it. I finished up the pancakes, and I carried the two plates, some honey, and a jar of hazelnut butter into the bedroom. I handed a plate to Coco who smiled as she dipped some of the hazelnut butter onto her pancakes and then poured some honey on them.
We both ate in a comfortable silence as we looked at one another. We finished, and I leaned over to kiss her. She returned the kiss, and then I stood. I grabbed her plate, walked it to the kitchen, placed it in the sink, and then I walked back to the bedroom one more time. The idea came to forgo the day of training, and instead spend that time trying to get Coco to say my name in as many octaves as she could while we both did some of the more delicious things to each other.
Instead I smiled and stood.
“I’ve got to get some training done,” I said sadly, “I want to stay in here with you, but I’ve got to get on this. If you want you can come outside with me, but it’s going to be a lot of hard work in the cold.”
She smiled at me, “Sure, I’ll come out later,” she kissed me, “But first I might take a shower.”
Coco’s P.O.V.
I watched as Miles got dressed for the weather outside. There was always something entrancing about how the human male buttocks moved; it was fascinating to the point of being hypnotic, especially on Miles. While I was nominally a fashion designer for women and mares, watching Miles perform this mundane task of getting dressed that had me thinking of designs that would look good on him and likely other men, other stallions. The warm, fluttery feeling in my womb intensified and had Miles decided to stick around in the cabin, I would have mounted him and never gotten off!
Still, I did have some things I wanted to do around the cabin, and watching Miles train was one of them. Sexy stuff could come later, after he had worked up a good lather. So, as he started lacing his mountain boots to his feet, I stood from bed, no bothering with preserving my modesty, and walked to the bathroom. I gave him a playful swat with my tail; a “goosing” I think people call it? His look of surprise turned into a look of amusement while I smirked. I continued toward the bathroom, putting an extra sway into my hips, something I knew Miles enjoyed immensely.
Upon entering the bathroom, I had to marvel at the simple but evocative style of this water closet. A single, marble sink in a cedar cabinet resided under the mirror, the toilet rested just in front of that, the claw tub with an attached copper tube curtain rod which in turn had a small window that overlooked the forest beyond the cabin lay at the end of the room, and kitschy with soft bathroom rug completed the scene. The desperate pieces would have been out of place in any other home, but in this cabin, they gave the feeling of being “lived in,” not unlike the sterile fixtures at the MGM. Even the slightly scuffed up wooden flooring added charm where in tile or vinyl flooring would take away from the scene. My Earth pony senses could really feel out the care and attention this place had in it, even if it’s function was largely unspoken of in polite company.
Taking up a moment to admire the decor, I then began the shower. The cabin had an older gas hot water tank, so unlike my suite at MGM, the hot water came out freezing and stayed that way until the water in the furnace was of sufficient heat. As I waited for the water to warm, I arranged some of my tioletries around the sink (there was barely enough room for it all,) then as steam began to emanate from the tub, I cranked the cold water up to give me a just-shy-of-lukewarm shower. Stepping into the stream that burst forth from the shower head, I was amazed at the pressure of the antique fixture. None of the showers in the MGM Grand were this strong, probably because of water saving features or water conservation measures. (Likely both, because Las Vegas was in the middle of a desert!) This thing hit like a wet slap of a large fish, easily arting my pelt with ease. I let the water pressure sting me to my skin for a while then set about working shampoo into my mane and tail. I know that there wasn’t going to a lot of hot water for very long, so I did my best to lather up with my favorite soap, then rinsed off as quickly as I could.
Once finished with my shower, I stepped out into the now steamed up bathroom, I hadn’t taken any time to look out the window while I was showering, but now I did. My heart skipped several beats when I did, for there was Miles, clad in flannel, squat lifting a large log. With more than six inches worth of snow on the mountain, his knees were burying into the powder. In spite of the chill in the air, he was sweating profusely. The flutterly feeling in my belly spread throughout my body, centering around my heart and deep in my womb. Well, if I wasn’t with foal before, I certainly was now. I took a few moments to dry off, especially since my tail so damp, then I dressed in my warmest winter wear and joined Miles outside.
The chill in the air was more present, but at the same time there was a sort of lively feeling to it. I walked toward Miles and saw him and I saw how he was doing more than I had thought. I had seen him squat lifting the log, but more than that he was squat lifting it, and then after a little bit he would load it onto a wagon. The wagon itself was something I would have expected in some of the more rural areas of Equestria. It was an old wooden thing, with high wooden wheels, and he simply put the log in place, and I watched as he did the process again with another log. Part of me wanted to go and help him. After all, an Earth Pony shares the load, but then I realized that he was doing this to train his body, and my helping would end up setting him back.
Instead I watched as he repeated the process another eight times before he had a fair load on the wagon. He then walked to the front, and I watched as he strapped on a brace over his chest, and then he gripped the two falling tongues of the wagon, which it was odd to see two, and then he began to pull it. In deep snow like this there would be at least two Earth Ponies pulling a wagon. It was more for caution sake than anything else. As an Earth Pony I had a connection to the land that was difficult to explain, but it allowed me to sense where there was dips, where there was loose rock, and it often saved a sprained fetlock.
As far as I knew Miles didn’t have that benefit, but he was pulling the wagon, straining against its weight, and pulling it up the hill. I followed, my need to help the one I had chosen as my mate battling my more logical mind. I had to remind myself that he was training himself. He was going through this for his profession, and that he had an endgame. I had to watch, I had to observe, and if he looked like it was going to hurt him then I would step in.
I watched as he unloaded the first log, and instead of squat lifting he placed it between two large rock croppings. The rocks had formed a v at either end, and he had the ends of the log resting in them. He then grabbed an axe and I watched as he swung it as hard as he could. The axe buried about five inches into the wood. He worked it loose, swung again, and he cut another five inches, this time in a vertical cut. He worked it loose again, and once more he cut and this time a large chunk of wood came out. He then began to swing where the chunk had been, and two more swings it was cut in half. He then moved up about a foot, repeated the process, and then moved down. He did this until the log was split into six equal parts.
He moved those parts to the side, unloaded another log, and repeated the process again. He did this again, and again, until every single log was done. I was expecting it to be done, but he began to grab the pieces he had made from the log, placed one flush on the ground, aimed at the top, and then swung down hard. I watched as he split it into two pieces with one swing, and then he repeated the process on both halves. He went through every piece doing this, working his arms, and then he loaded all of that wood back back onto the wagon, hitched himself back up to it, and pulled it back toward the cabin.
He then worked on stacking all of it on the porch. I thought that maybe he was going to stop, but instead he took an axe, walked toward a tall dead tree, and he began to swing. I watched as my stallion worked tirelessly. He was like a machine, it was as if he was made of steel itself, and he set himself to finishing his task. I had thought about it before, but now I was certain. Miles was supposed to have been an Earth Pony. There was no doubt in my mind about that. He had the same drive to finish what he started that every Earth Pony has. I watched in awe as he cut down six more trees, cut the limbs from them, split the limbs into smaller pieces, carried them to the porch, and then walked back to separate the trees into six foot sections. He walked toward the wagon, and once again he squat lifted each log he had made a few times before loading them back into the wagon. I watched as he repeated the process over, and over again until it was starting to get dark out.
When he finished I could see the sweat pouring from him, and this time I didn’t let myself stop myself. I went to him, and I let him lean on me while he caught his breath. I helped him inside, and I realized how hard he pushed himself. If I hadn’t been here he would be going inside, making a meal, maybe taking a bath or shower, and then going to bed. I wouldn’t get in the way of his training, but I would take care of the more domestic side of things. I didn’t mind doing so, and I wanted to help shoulder some of his burden.
Author's Note
I actually managed to contribute this time! Albeit, the bulk of this chapter is Ron Jeremy Pony's letters, I did add something to this chapter. Anyway, more sexy stuff with Miles and Coco, also a bit of fluff. Hope you all enjoy!
