Milk and Honey

by L0rd0f7hund3r

Rating: mature
Tags: Other, Sex, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Human, Anthro, Romance, Original Character
Length: 9424

Milky Way was used to a few things. Hearing about her cousin's insane life in Ponyville, dealing with the stares from most ponies because of her… gifts, but at the moment she's completely out of her element.

Once, she was the milkmare of Trottingham. Now, she doesn't know what she is…

Milky Way was used to a few things. Hearing about her cousin's insane life in Ponyville, dealing with the stares from most ponies because of her… gifts, but at the moment she's completely out of her element.

Instead Milky is in a world she doesn't quite understand, and away from her friends and family. Her one hope of finding out how this world works is the friend she's made in a stallion named- Sydney.

A collab with MoltenXKid, Ron Jeremy Pony, Mixer Loop, and myself, L0rd0f7hund3r.

Part of Ron Jeremy Pony's Vogonverse!

Cover Art by Sketchy Changeling

Published 2015-02-04 20:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2016-06-16 18:41:43 UTC

1 Got Milk?

Milk and Honey

A Milky Way in the Vogonverse story

Chapter 1 ‘Got Milk?’

The smell of peanuts, beer, and pretzels filled air with the sounds of friendly chatter. That’s how things were at The Speakeasy, especially at five o’clock on a Saturday. It was the kind of place that a person could feel welcomed, where anypony, no matter who (or what) they were, would be greeted with a smile; their names called out by their friends, and they could rely on leaving their troubles at the door for a while. The atmosphere changed when Sydney, one of the bar’s regulars, stumbled in, looking harried.

News of the helpmates, the appearance of the Equestrian helpmates which had no owners, was no longer the news it had been. Even so, every head turned when Sydney clambered down The Speakeasy’s steps with a shaken looking mare. She was petite, even by Equestrian standards, standing at a measly five foot four, at most. Her pale, buttercream coat wore a silky sheen to it; her mane and tail were a shade of cerulean, verging on sapphire with midnight blue undertones. Very human, leaf green eyes darted back and forth over the bar patrons, carrying a worried expression in them.

“Ned? Ned, somebody needs to call the paramedics and the police,” Sydney called out as he walked the mare over to a table.

The clop of her hooves on the hardwood floor was unmistakable in the silence of nominally boisterous early evening. Sydney pulled out a chair for the mare; she took the proffered seat, still obviously shaken over what had happened, and tried to relax. Her whole quivered, driven to quaking by a fear induced adrenaline rush. It was a sensation both alien and exhilarating for the mare.

“What happened out there?” Ned asked as he booted up the bar’s now antiquated viewing console.

“I… I’m not sure,” she said with a British accent.

She glanced at the bartender who had asked the question. He looked at her, his eyes almost seeming like they could pull her very soul to the surface and examine it. After a moment a light smile, that seemed too gentle for his face, crossed his lips. Disoriented as she was, she could nary ponder why this man glanced at her like that. A mystery for another time…

“This is the Boston Emergency Line, Please indicate the type of emergency you have,” the city’s Digital Assistant Operator said.

“There’s been an accident, just outside of 84 Beacon street,” Sydney said.

“Is the Fire Department required?” the city’s Digital Assistant Operator asked.

“No, just send the paramedics and a police officer,” Ned replied.

“Very well, a paramedic ambulance and patrol car in the vicinity have been notified. They will be arriving within seven minutes. Is there any other services needed?” the Digital Assistant Operator asked.

“No, thank you,” Ned said before the video phone shut off, “You gonna be alright Miss?”

She looked at him, her green eyes looking less unsettled and frantic, and she breathed out a small calming exhale. She nodded, not sure if she could completely trust her voice completely, and gave a small smile back to the bartender. This stallion- even with her mind currently far afield, she honestly believed she could trust this stallion. It wasn’t like she much other choice, in the matter.

“Yes, I… Believe so. It just happened so suddenly, I was somewhere else, completely, and then without warning I was near a stallion trying to lift a piano,” she replied.

“Franky?” Ned asked looking at Sydney.

“Yeah, the rope slipped, and I happened to be there. I knocked her out of the way,” Sydney said.

“Damn, is he alright?” Ned asked.

“I think so, but that’s why the paramedics,” Sydney replied.

The bar slowly began to buzz with chatter from the other patrons who started to lose interest in the happenstance of an unlikely savior and savee coming into the bar. Sydney sat next to the blue haired beauty. The shock and fear of what nearly happened was slowly leaving her. She visibly relaxed when he put an arm around her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she said.

He smiled, patted her hand with his unoccupied one, and felt her hand move slightly. She gently gripped his hand and looked at him. He could see something in her eyes he had read about in old plays, and heard about in old songs, but he’d never really seen it before. There was honesty and true gratefulness there.

“You are very welcomed,” he replied.

Her expressions were no different from a humans. Her face was different, obviously, because of her muzzle and ears, and he could hear her hooves clopping on the ground as she walked. There wouldn’t be any sneaking up on anyone for her, but she acted just as human as any of his friends would have. Perhaps she acted more human than his friends.

The sound of a stomach rumbling gained the attention of a few patrons sitting around where they were. Milky blushed, which was something that seemed magical seeing that she was covered with fur. She looked at Sydney with an expression of mixed embarrassment and hope.

"Sorry, but I didn't eat breakfast before I came... here," she said.

Sydney looked at Ned who seemed to already have a handle on what might be happening, and after a moment Ned brought over two menus. He smiled at them both and flipped Milky’s menu open to a Seafood and Salad section. Sydney looked at his own and thought about what he would like. There was this childish part of him that wanted to eat chicken, or pork, just as a chance to rebel against his parents, but in truth while he was a little hungry he wasn’t starving.

“Ned, when did you start serving food again? I thought that you just wanted this place to be a bar,” Sydney said.

“I do, and it is; the menus are for the restaurant upstairs. They’ve set up a grill down here, and they let me hire the short order cook to take care of it. They take orders from the bar, cook it, and deliver it right here, and make change themselves. Folks get a meal, I don’t have to clean up the mess, and most of them order a beer, or some wine, to go with it,” Ned replied.

“Oh, Hayburgers? You have hayburgers?” Milky asked.

“Haywhatnow?” Sydney asked.

“Oh I haven’t had a hayburger since I visited my cousin Bonbon in Ponyville… The hay looks a little too done in the picture though,” she replied.

“That’s because it’s not hay,” corrected Ned, “It’s beef.”

Milky watched as Ned walked toward the window in the grill, took the tray and carried it toward another table. Sydney followed Milky’s gaze. A thought occurred to him as he watched. There was something missing in Ned’s bar that day. Sydney couldn’t place what it was at first. Then it came to him: the other half-owner of the Speakeasy, George, was conspicuously absent.

“Ned, what happened to George?” Sydney asked.

“He went and caught the flu, so I’m running my bar and the grill while he’s out sick,” Ned said.

The orders slowly emerged, little by little. Finally Sydney saw the grill cook as she stepped away from the grill for her break. Like Milky, she was one of the Equestrian folk. She wasn’t as endowed as Milky, but then Sydney wasn’t sure that there was any other woman, of any race, that was as well endowed as Milky. She was carrying a small salad, a glass of something, and what looked like a few pieces of cheese toast with her. For a moment her eyes drifted toward the two of us, and a bright smile crossed her muzzle.

“I’m so sorry to intrude; if I am I’ll leave, but would you terribly mind if I sit down with the two of you?” she asked.

“I haven’t seen any bits. In fact, when Ned brought out our food Sydney just touched this black thing with a red indention in it.” Milky said.

“They don’t use bits here, dear. Mostly it’s called credits.” Love tap said as she smiled and nodded, as Milky gave the other mare an incredulous glare, “I know, I know, I thought it was strange too. Everything that we buy or see is almost strictly through digital interaction. I think that someone said that some places call it scrip, but everypony I know just calls it credits.”

“Why did they start using that?” Milky asked.

“This is one of the few times my son has taught me something. It seems that there’s this massive network, and on it there’s this huge gaming company. That company allows players to enter and play for a quarter credit. Once they’re in, the gaming company sells upgrades to the players, or the players can complete quests to get the upgrades. Button says that you can really tell the questers from the spenders. Anyway, the questers typically are the ones who win tournaments, and the prizes for those tournaments is credits which you can spend at the gaming company. Since that company is basically the biggest entity online, most everywhere has switched to accepting credits instead of regular payment. The value of the credits never goes down, and so everyone uses them for everything.” Love tap said.

“So… What’s wrong with using something like bits?” Milky asked.

“I think that it would be harder for them to go back to it. This seems to be easier for them,” Love replied.

Love nodded once she responded and proceeded to take a bite of her food. Using the moment of silence, Milky took a bite of her salad. Using the fork, she stabbed a piece of lettuce and shrimp and made sure an adequate amount of dressing was on it. Carefully, she brought the utensil to her mouth, trying not to drop anything on her chest. She then wrapped her lips around, pulled back, and began to chew. It wasn't the best salad she had eaten-lettuce was a tad bit old- but it was something to put on her stomach. She took another bite before wiping her mouth.

"So are there anymore of us around… here?" Milky asked.

Love Tap swallowed before answering, "Of course, dear! Besides my family, there's tons more. If it'll help you, the Elements are here, too. All married to the native folks; some even with foal."

"With foal?! With…" Milky looked at Sydney who wasn't paying attention, "them?"

"Yes, my dear, it’s truly magical." Love sighed, her eyes going into a daydream state until she was ripped out of it.

"Hey, horse! We need you back at the kitchen!"

"I guess that's my cue to leave. Enjoy your stay here," Love stood, grabbed her plate, and yelled, "I'm coming, I’m coming! And I'm not a freaking WHORSE!"

Left alone, Milky returned to her anxious silence. She had food, for now, but not a place to stay the night. She definitely didn't have any "credits" for a hotel. She began to nervously run her hand together, unsure of her future.

“Yeah, Yeah. At least she’s better than Sherri. That girl couldn’t boil water without burning something,” Ned looked at the two of them and brought over a couple of glasses of water, “I figure a couple of glasses of water isn’t gonna kill either of you.”

“Thanks.”

Once Ned walked away Sydney looked at Milky who had grown quiet.

“Something wrong?”

The concern in his voice gained her attention. She wasn’t one to use a pony’s concern against them, but if he did help her she would find a way of paying him back. Surely getting a job here wouldn’t be that much more difficult than getting on in Trottingham.

“I don’t know where I’m going to sleep tonight. I find myself without my saddlebags, with no bits, and none of these… credits. It’s worrisome to say the least. I honestly have no clue on what I should do.”

“Sometimes it’s the little acts of kindness that we’re remembered for, Sydney. It’s those acts that make life worth living.”

The last words his mother had ever said to him replayed in his ears. Little acts of kindness. An act of kindness was bringing her in here, getting her a meal, and getting her out of the way of the police and paramedics. He took a moment and realized that he was really about the only one in a position to help, or at least help in the best way he could.

“Look, if you need a place to stay for a couple of days while you try to get on your feet I’ve got some extra room. I mean my apartment is pretty open, but I do have some extra room. It’d be off of the streets, and it would keep me from worrying.”

“All guests are to be cleared before entering the building. I know Billy, I know. I already entered her into the guest registry on the way over.”

“Very well, if this turns into a long term guest then we may have to re-evaluate your rent,” the same voice replied before the elevator doors dinged and opened.

Milky took hold of her surroundings. They were in spacious lobby painted in calm, neutral colors greeted the pair. matching, plush armchairs and squishy sofas lined the reception area; light jazz piped in from hidden stereo speakers. The recessed lighting overhead cast a luminous, bland glare over all the surfaces, including the mahogany piping of the reception desk. There was no one behind the counter, save for a mechanical entity that watched with a solemn, dusky red photoreceptor.

Sydney guided his guest to a pair of elevators at the furthest end of the lobby. The brass accents and titanium doors of the elevator doors were meant to add some class to the appliances, Milky assumed, but the metals had been long abused. She could see smudged prints on the brass in the places where it was untarnished. The titanium doors had dents in them and many scratches. The one lift had a deep gouge in it; Milky wondered how such an obvious bit of damage could go unrepaired. She was starting to have misgivings about Sydney's offer…

“I didn’t mean to get you into trouble,” Milky said.

They were just entering the carriage of the elevator when she said this. Given her assumptions made from the condition of the doors, Milky was taken aback from the clean, almost pristine nature of the carriage’s interior. All the metal fittings within were highly polished and only the slightest bit scratched. The floor was a fine tile highly waxed to a brilliant sheen. The lift also had mirrors above the wainscot, each of which was clean of smudges and polished well for excellent reflectiveness. She noticed a few stray hairs spilling out of her mane and went to straighten them. She then turned to her host, with a nervous grimace. He gave her a grin and shook his head.

“You didn’t,” Sydney assured, “Billy’s just doing what he’s programmed to do. He’s programmed to keep track of those entering and exiting the building. To be honest, I think that I’m the only tennent here. I haven’t seen the other guy that was renting an apartment here in about two months.”

The elevator dinged again and the two of them stepped out into a room with hardwood floors. Milky looked around at Sydney’s domicile. There was a massive sofa connected to an end table and a recliner; in front if it was a large, dark screen. She wasn’t sure what kind of screen it was, but it did remind her of some of the theater screens from when she visited Ponyville. She could see a nice kitchen, a stationary island for it, and a billiards table. She walked toward it, touching the purple velvet on the table and then looking back at Sydney.

“The table was here when I moved in,” Sydney explained, “I just refinished it, and brought it back to life.”

She did a quick turn and noticed that there was only one half wall in the entire place.

“I don’t want to be rude, but where do you want me to sleep?” Milky inquired.

He grinned at her again, and lead her behind the wall. There she saw a large bed, already made, and she assumed that it was just waiting for its owner.

“You go ahead and take the bed. I’ll take the couch,” Sydney invited.

She shook her head.

“No,” milky protested, “I’m the guest here. I should take the sofa.”

“Exactly,” Sydney argued, “you’re my guest. You take the bed, I’ll take the couch. Just let me grab a pillow off of the bed, and a spare blanket.”

Before she could argue further, he had a pillow under his arm, opened the closet, and pulled out a faded blue blanket.

“The master bathroom, well only bathroom, is right over there,” he said pointing to the corner.

She noticed that there was a tiled area with a clear curtain around it. She could see a shower stall, a toilet, and a sink. She also noticed that said ‘bathroom’ was not hidden behind the wall. It didn’t look bad to her. After all, she’d been to some houses with a similar layout before. She stretched, and before he could take in what was going on she was walking toward the shower, stripping the entire time. Sydney felt a small bit of modesty come over her and turned around. He had happened a glance at some of her figure, and to say that it was to die for would be an understatement.

“Ummm… yeah, while you’re doing that I’m going to go make up the couch!” Sydney mumbled.

“Okay!” she shouted over the water that was now running, “Oh, by Celestia, this hot water is amazing! Oh, what does this…. Oh MY!”

He shuddered as he realized that she must have activated the massaging showerhead. He didn’t need to look toward the clear plastic curtain, which was pulled back completely now, or anywhere near the bathroom really, to know this. Instead he listened to a beautiful woman’s voice, singing, with a British Accent. Singing, and having a slight moan every once in a while.

It’s fine Sydney, she’s just very comfortable. No worries, he thought.

The shower stopped after a few minutes; he heard the sound of her hooves stepping onto the mat in front of the shower stall. He had taken a shower earlier, and while he considered taking another one, he pushed that idea out of his head. It’d be awkward enough as is. He felt two arms wrap around him, and two very large mammary glands press into his back.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” Milky cooed.

“Y...You’re welcome,” he replied.

He turned around to see her hair in a towel, and she was wrapped in what appeared to be two different towels.

“I’m afraid that I am rather tired,” Milky breathed, “thank you again for letting me stay.”

He watched as she walked back toward the wall and around her. Her tail was lifted up, just a bit, and he fell back onto the couch.

“Better than looking at the wall,” he muttered before he stretched out. He was certain that, given the day’s events, his guest would be fast asleep before his overstimulated mind would allow him to slumber, but moments after his head fell onto his pillow, Sydney was asleep. He wouldn’t hear the faint breathing of his Equestrian guest as she drifted off to sleep…

2 A New World, New Discoveries, and You Call This MILK?!

Milk and Honey

A Milky Way in the Vogonverse Story

A New World, New Discoveries, and you call this MILK?!

Waking up was certainly something that Sydney wasn’t exactly ready for. Having saved his house guest yesterday was one thing, letting her stay another, but forgetting that the unforgiving sun loved to shine in through the window, down on the couch, was the line he forgotten to draw in the proverbial sand. Groaning, he sat up, and his eyes landed on the rising and falling of the chest of the mare in his bed.

He considered what it was that he should do in this moment. Were he his brother, most likely he’d try to sneak a peek at the beauty lying in there. Instead he had a bit more refinement and understanding than that. Instead, he got up, walked toward the wardrobe, opened it, and found a suit of clothes that would work for today.

Once dressed he walked toward the kitchen, dug through his refrigerator, and realized that there was absolutely nothing for him to make breakfast with. That meant that his entire idea of cooking a breakfast at home was shot. He’d have to go grocery shopping. Grabbing a tablet he began to let his refrigerator connect to it and indicate what perishables he needed. After a moment it sounded a slight dinging sound, and he knew that the transfer was complete.

Going from there, he started to walk toward the cabinets, but stopped and decided to just ask Billy what he had consumed from the non perishables. Billy complied, indicating that he was out of coffee, out of peanut butter, bread, low on cooking oil, and completely out of any snack foods.

As Sydney spoke with Billy he didn’t notice the Equestrian slowly getting up and out of bed. Milky yawned as she sat up. Her breasts felt fuller, heavier, and she knew what that meant. Unfortunately she didn’t have her milking pumps. She knew from experience that her bra wouldn’t be able to handle the increased size. She felt the heaviness of them, and let out a sigh. She’d have to do it manually.

She stood up and looked at her clothes. Her only clothes…

“You’re awake?”

She turned toward the voice and saw Sydney standing there.

“I am, but I fear that I have nothing to wear. I do hate to ask, but would it be possible for me to borrow something?”

Her response was a head nod, and a mouth opening and closing without saying any words. She watched him, seeing that he was still looking at her, and nodding, she assumed that he was saying yes. She walked over toward the wardrobe, pulled it open, and saw dozens upon dozens of suits, but also within it was a pair of sweatpants, and a plain white tee shirt. She pulled the pants on first, finding it fitting fairly well, but the shirt seemed to strain over her breasts.

There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that she was going to have to milk herself, and soon. A couple of tall glasses would do. She could wait for another few hours and produce a full gallon. Of course that meant that her breasts would be tender, sore, and desperately needing some lotion and massage done to them. If she knew where those Spa Ponies where that was in Ponyville she’d seek them out for the massage portion.

Sure, they giggled over the fact that she had asked them to massage her breasts, but they did a wonderful job, and they did make her coat gleam. Not to mention she met that mare with the gorgeous mane, Rarity she believed her name was, when she was there. She was such a nice pony, and perhaps the most generous pony she had ever known. She walked out from behind the half wall and found Sydney sitting down, his hand on the counter, the other holding the tablet, and talking softly to himself.

“Thank you for letting me borrow some clothes.”

He looked up at her, his smile a warm and inviting one, and nodded, “It’s fine, really it is, and don’t worry about it. I’ve got to go and get some groceries, and if you want to join me I’d be more than happy to get you some clothes of your own.”

She nodded, and soon they were heading out of the apartment. She looked at the businesses near them and noticed that there was several that didn’t seem to have anypony working inside of them. They stopped at one of these places and walked inside of it. He stopped at a small device, pressed a few places on a black looking screen, and then touched an indented area. It beeped and she watched as six canvas bags fell down. He picked them up, motioned toward her, and she followed him. They walked toward the machines and he activated the device he was holding. After a moment she heard one of the machines rumble and he pressed his thumb against the indention. When he did she could see several items moving from inside of it.

Milk, cheese, and a package of cookies fell. He took them out, placing them into a bag, and then looked at her.

“Would you like anything special?”

She looked at the machines and noticed that one of them had a small bag of about five apples.

“Do you mind if we get these?” she asked pointing to the fruit.

He shook his head, pressed a few buttons on the machine, pressed his thumb against the indention again, and just like with the other things the apples simply dropped down. She reached into the bottom of the machine, feeling the cool bag, and lifted it out. She handed to Sydney, who then placed it into one of the larger bags.

“Okay, we’ve got just a few more things to get, and then we’ll stop and get you some clothes.”

It didn’t take long to get the rest of the groceries, and when they were finished they walked across the street to another store much like the grocery they had went into. The big difference was that there was two black booths standing in the middle.

“What do we do?” Milky asked.

“Step inside of one of the booths, and follow the instructions,” Sydney answered.

She did, feeling booth rub against her breasts. She cursed herself for not milking herself this morning.

“Welcome to the Right Fit, please, undress, place your clothes on the shelf behind you, and stand still. The Automated booth will scan your measurements, and once it is finished it will send your measurements to the vending machines making your selection easier!”

Milky did as the voice directed, stood still, and once more she felt something rubbing against her breasts for a second before it moved away. It seemed to move further down, and when it was finished Milky’s measurements flashed on the screen.

“Fifty-six, Twenty-Eight, Thirty-Nine,” Milky read, “Celestia, I should have milked myself.”

She didn’t try to get dressed in the booth, since it was so enclosed, but instead she brought her clothes out with her. When she got out she bumped into Sydney, pressing her mammaries against him, and causing him to nearly lose his balance. She caught him, pulling him close to her, and at the same time squishing him against her rather full glands.

Sidney noticed a couple of things right off the bat. One, Milky was just a little shorter than himself, two, her breasts were a mixture of soft and firm that he had believed to be impossible, and three, that there was something wet on him. Slowly, he moved, able to back up, and noticed two wet spots on his shirt. He noticed that there was bead of something white on her nipples, and what was wet on his shirt was suddenly very evident.

He watched as her eyes widened, and she tried to wipe the wet marks off, “Sorry, sorry, normally I’d already milked myself by now, but I seemed to have left my pump at home, and I didn’t want to bother you for a couple of glasses to use to collect the milk either.”

“Are you, pregnant?”

She looked at Sydney as he asked the question, and slowly it occurred to him why he asked. Obviously she wasn’t in Equestria anymore. Sure she was well known in Equestria, but that was because of what her milk could do. She shook her head and smiled.

“No, it’s my special talent. I… produce quite a bit of milk. Normally I would have my pump along with me, and I would pump it out and store it,” she replied before putting on the clothes she borrowed, “It just seems that I pretty much left without anything that I would normally bring along with me.”

“So you just produce milk?” he asked.

She nodded, and he decided to hold more questions about it until after they had finished getting her some clothes. Walking around the machines she found a pair of jeans she liked, a top, and then she picked up a maternity bra, and type of panties she liked. Making her selections she ended up with three tops, two pairs of jeans, six bras, and six pairs of panties. It was a start. Together they walked back toward his apartment. Once they were inside and standing in his apartment he began to put the groceries away, with the exception of what it was that he wanted to fix for breakfast. Growing up Sydney had always enjoyed making French Toast. It wasn’t that difficult to make, and he hoped that his guest would enjoy the sweet and crispy breakfast food as well.

Milky watched as he began to prepare the meal, and she walked over to see if there was something she could do to help. Seeing him mixing the ingredients together she realized that he was making Prench Toast. She had eaten it once, when she was in Ponyville, but she didn’t want to tell her cousin Bon Bon that the breakfast dish wasn’t really a Prench Dish from Prance. It wasn’t even called Prench Toast until it was made in Trottingham.

She heard that it originated in the old world, before the Windigos, and the Earth Ponies had created it as a treat for their foals. A special treat made from their grains and milk from their teats. In truth, when she made Prench toast she tried to follow the oldest recipe she could, and often that meant using some of her own milk for it. Of course she often would serve it to those who were sick.

“Need some help?”

Looking at her Sydney nodded, and moved a couple of bowls toward her. She looked at the milk, which seemed a little too white. The jug they had gotten had said whole milk, but milk itself tended to have a yellowish tint to it. She could smell a difference in it too. It smelled kind of like milk, but there was something off in it. It almost smelled like somepony had mixed something strange into the milk before selling it. She dipped the bread into it, feeling it become just slightly soggy, and then placed it into the mixture of sugar and cinnamon.

She could already smell some of the break cooking in the pan he had on the stove, and she passed the plate with four more pieces on it. As it cooked she looked at the milk in the bowl, picked it up, and took a small sip from it. Instantly she tried to spit the foul taste out. She sat the bowl down and shook her head.

“That is not milk.”

The statement was direct, to the point, and as far as she was concerned completely justified. It was just- wrong. It was all manner of wrongness, from the taste, the consistency, the smell, there was nothing about this that was right. Milky was half-tempted to throw it out.

“What do you mean?” Sydney queried, “I’ve had milk like that for years and I’ve never had any problem with it.”

“That’s because you do not know what real milk is,” Milky said, reaching for the jug and reading the contents of the label, “‘homogenized?’ What is this?”

“Oh,” Sydney said, “when we get milk from the cows, it's typically full of germs and things, so we heat it up to certain temperature to kill the germs, then it’s chilled and transported to its sale destination. I think. I’m not that well versed in milk production.”

“I see,” Milky replied, taking a wiff of the contents of the jug, “disgusting! How do you ponies grow so big with such terrible milk?!”

“Ugh,” Sydney began, taking a moment to formulate a response, “we eat a lot meat, I guess? Our diets are rather- meat centric. If I remember right, we humans are considered- omnivores? I think?”

“You mean like minotaurs?” Milky asked.

“Uh, I don’t know, maybe?” Sydney answered.

“Hmm,” Milky mused, “this is a bother. Poor nutrition, faulty taste buds, it’s a wonder how you ponies managed to survive for so long.”

Sydney just shrugged, not knowing how to answer/

“Luck may have something to do with it,” Milky said, almost as an aside, “in any case, I can not, in all consciousness, allow such a travesty of a kind continue.”

“What do you mean?”Sydney asked.

Milky looked at the confused stallion, then down to her still overburdened bust. She knew what she had to do, even if she had to do it in front of a complete stranger. (A rather cute, if deformed, stranger, true.) It needed to be done anyway and it was already getting to the point were Milky was more than likely to leak insistently if she didn’t milk herself soon.

“Mr. Sydney,” Milky commanded, I am in need of the biggest pitcher you have here, maybe two. A bit of priv-a-cy, and a stool or chair, if you please. I shall provide you with quality milk, such as you have never had before, or my name isn’t Milky Way!”

Opening up one of his cabinets Sydney pulled down a large glass pitcher. It was heavy, old, and had a picture of a strange smiling face on the front of it. The words Kool-Aide engraved on the back of it. It was easily a gallon pitcher, but from the weight of her bosoms she would need at least one more pitcher. Lifting her shirt, thankful she didn’t have on a bra to work against her, she began gripping the sides of her left breast and began to squeeze. This was why she loved her pump. The pump, while clunky and awkward, didn’t hurt as much as she squeezed her breast.

The river was unleashed in a moment and Sydney watched as the pitcher was nearly full. She looked at him and smiled, “Another, if you have it available.”

He reached into a cabinet, pulling down a taller, skinnier, and lighter jug. Taking her right breast she repeated the same process and soon it too was nearly full. A sigh of relief washed over her. Her breasts had shrunk, quite a bit, back down to a more manageable forty-four double d. She slipped the shirt back on, no longer feeling the material being stretched nearly beyond it’s ability, and looked at the slightly yellow tinted milk on the counter.

“You can taste it if you want.”

Sydney was still standing there, in awe, unable to really wrap his head around what he had just seen. First, he had witnessed what was perhaps the largest set of breasts he’d ever laid eyes on before. And then he had watched as those same breasts practically filled up two gallon pitchers with fresh milk. Allowing his body to act on its own he reached for a glass, finding one, and placed it down. Milky poured a glass for him, and he lifted it to his mouth.

He’d heard stories that milk straight from the source was always sweeter, thicker, and richer than the milk bought at a store. Those stories were right. It was indeed sweeter, thicker, richer, and far more full bodied than what he had bought. It tasted more like cream than milk. He placed the glass down and stood amazed for a few moments until he smelled something starting to burn. Quickly he attended the french toast, turning it, getting it out, and placing the other pieces that Milky had prepared into the pan.

I wonder what it would taste like if I cooked it with that milk?

He waved away the thought. He didn’t want to seem rude, and even though she seemed content to let him drink what she had produced, he didn’t want her to think ill of him. No, he simply cooked what they had prepared, and when he turned around there was two glasses of slightly yellow tinted milk on the counter. He noticed that the pitchers of milk were nowhere in sight, and there was an empty gallon jug of milk in the sink. Regardless of what he thought Milky had already made the decision for them. From now on they would be using what she produced instead of what he could buy at the store.

He placed the two plates on the counter, turned to see Milky exploring the apartment, looking over the glass topped table, the billiards table off to the side, and the seating arrangements. He smiled, seeing how she was exploring what was there, touching the fabrics, seemingly happy enough to see and experience everything around her in an almost innocent manner. He took their breakfast over to the glass topped table, placing it on it, then returned with the glasses of milk.

“Ready for breakfast?”

She nodded and walked toward him. Sitting down Sydney looked over her clothes and realized that he could do better. Being a fashion designer was what he did, and maybe, just maybe, if she was willing, he could get her to model for the line he had in mind.

3 No Such Thing As Personal Space

Milk and Honey

A Milky Way in the Vogonverse Story

No such thing as Personal Space

Sydney was doing his best to keep from ogling his roommate. He’d stopped referring to Milky as a guest after her second week of staying with him. To his surprise Milky had not only offered to get a job, but got one. The one thing she did, ritually, every morning, was to drain herself before going to work. In fact, that was exactly what she was in the process of doing at this moment, and why he was fighting against the urge to watch her.

She was comfortable with him, she felt secure with him, and that was more than enough reason to prance around their apartment completely nude. From the moment she walked in the door, until they went somewhere, she was walking around in the very suit nature gave her. She’d sometimes, okay more than sometimes, wear a t-shirt for Sydney’s sake, but the stallion was impossibly cute when he was embarrassed. It surprised her to no end that nudity seemed to embarrass him. Back in Equestria clothing was optional, completely optional, to the point that if one wanted to come to work in the nude there was not a word said about it.

She understood that here the rules were different, but still, if two friends lived in an apartment it only seemed natural that if one wanted to walk around without any constricting clothes on it should be a valid option for them to do so. Of course, it was easier to be nude and milking herself as well. At the moment she had a full pitcher of milk, and her breasts felt less full.

“Ah, finally,” she said as she took the picture, wrapped some cling wrap on the top of it, and placed it in the refrigerator.

Just looking inside she could see that they had three gallons of her milk. It would be a good idea to start giving it out to some ponies that need it. She glanced at the time and relaxed. She didn’t have work today, which was more than fantastic. She could feel Sydney stealing glances, then looking away, and she could see the light blush on his cheeks. Getting up she walked toward him, her hooves clicking on the floor.

“What’s the plan for tonight?” she asked.

“You don’t have to work?”

She shook her head no.

“Well, I was going to work on some designs that I was trying to get together. One of the designs was I working on could be better. Milky, you said you’re off right?”

She nodded, “Yeah, I’m off, why?”

A grin appeared on his face, “I could really use your help. The new designs I’m working on deals with women, who seem to be as blessed as you are with an abundance of… natural gifts shall we say. I don’t want what I create to look tacky or tasteless. Would it be a bother?”

She stopped and considered what he was asking for a moment. She’d seen some of his designs, the clothes he created, and they were fetching. For a moment she wondered if he was being quizzacious in nature, but Sydney wasn’t like that, not really. He seemed to be guileless with everyone he interacted with. After a moment she nodded, it wouldn’t be the end of the world to try on some clothes, and besides, there was every chance she could make Sydney blush.

“I don’t see why not, luv,” Milky said, “to be honest, the clothes you got me before were a mite tight in me bosom. It’s a wonder I hadn’t burst out of them when I was full.”

She watched as his eyes, which were trying very hard to look into her own, glanced down, before he turned his head, and that delightful blush crossed his face. She tittered as Sydney tried in vain to hide said blush. Shaking her head, she behind her flustered flatmate and pressed her bosom against his chest. The human’s stiffened body told her that she surprised him; she couldn’t help but feel a little amusement at his predicament.

“I’m not sure about where ya come from, luv,” Milky stated, “but I don’t mind. Ya stare at me assets all the live long, if ya want. I’ve got it, why can’t I flaunt it? Besides, yer gonna need to see the goods to get me measurements done, yeah?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sydney answered nervously, “sure, you’re right. Can’t get accurate measurements when you’re all bound in clothes, I guess… But, are you okoy with that? I don’t wanna-”

Laughing out loud now, Milky replies, “Oh, luv, yer a riot! Of course I’m alright with it! Go ahead, get a good ogle. Didn’t used to bother back home ain’t no different here, in Boston. Maybe you think I don’t approve the, eh, luv?”

“Well, yeah,” Sydney said, “if you were any other women, I would have gotten slapped, or pepper sprayed, maybe have a gun pointed at me.”

“Well, I’m a mare, luv,” Milky rejoindered, “an’ I don’t feel offended. In fact-”

A wicked smile occurred on Milky’s face as she rose from her human cushion. She then gently took hold of Sydney’s arm, pulling him to face her and her still leaking mammaries. Once she had him staring at her, or more specifically, her teats, she saw the tension in his body ebb away ever so subtly. Another giggle, which caused her breasts to heave during the action, was met with a hopeful and unbelieving glance from the human.

“G’ahead, luv,” Milky cooed, “give ‘em a touch. They ain’t gonna bite.”

“O-okay,” Sydney replied shakily, and he proceeded to handle the glorious orbs of the mare. The surface of her breasts were soft, like velvet, while the darker areola and nipples were akin more to human skin. Sydney’s mind wandered to a time back in his high school days, to Jordan Miller, the girl that lived next door to him. She was a pretty girl, and tall, with skin like fine porcelain and legs that never seemed to end. Her pert ass and perky chest were the subject of close scrutiny by the teenaged Syd.

Then, in one glorious moment, he had a chance to actually wrap his hands around the glorious melons of Jordan Miller’s. She was out riding her skates, he was on the way back from the automat laden, with groceries, when they collided into each other. The fact that he had grabbed onto her breasts was purely by accident. In the moment between he knew what his hands were holding and the moment Jordan discovered where Sydney’s hands had landed, he was in pure bliss. That lasted all of two seconds, for Jordan took great offense at be groped like that, even by accident. She spoke her displeasure with a right cross that knocked him out until late in the evening, his mother fussing over baby boy.

Milky was in no way Jordan Miller. Milky Way was, well, more womanly, and she was far more permissive. She liked walking about the loft in the nude and she seemed totally unabashed about it. Sure, she wasn’t completely human, but she was warm, kind, and willing, so Sydney didn’t feel ashamed in fulfilling some very primal desires. Among those desires was the need to drink the fluid that was Milky’s namesake. While groping her bounteous assets, he sent his errant tongue toward an erect nipple, whose point was still dripping mother’s milk. A lick did what numerous unspoken fantasies could not begin to describe.

While his first taste of Milky’s unique emissions was delightful in a way that modern milk wasn’t, this small sampling direct from the source was a heaven on it's own. The taste was on par with the sweetest flavors he could imagine; the texture as it fell down his tongue was something he could only compare to cream, but less substantial. He wasn’t going to complain; it reminds him of sour cream and rather liked sour cream. His eyes slipped closed in pleasure as the sensation swept his taste buds.

His attentions definitely caught Milky’s notice. The swipe of his tongue elicited a shudder in the mare. Her breasts were always rather sensitive and walking the cobblestone streets of Trottingham without support for teats caused her no small amount of embarrassment. And although Boston was just as cobblestoned, given her new form, and she recognized as such, she was thankful that these hoomans were far more appreciative of her natural gifts. Or, at the very least, Sydney was. As her mini orgasm swept through her, she felt an even greater adoration for this man. He respected her and thought of her as a goddess. And he was going to make clothes for her, too. Given her endowments, he could have easily refused, but here he was offering his talents for her benefit. She could kiss him…

“That-” Milky breathed, “that, luv, was intense.”

A look of shock passed over Sydney’s face, as he spoke, “I didn’t go too far, did I?”

Shaking her head, Milky answered, “Neigh, luv, you haven’t crossed any boundaries. Your appreciation of my gifts is- reciprocated. If want, ya can go a little further, if ya want. I won’t mind.”

The hope in Sydney's face answered her. As he dove back on the nipple he tentatively touched before. His lips latched onto the proffered teat, suckling at the ambrosia that lay inside. Milky, her senses assailed, moaned lewdly at his ministrations. This was the first time any stallion had ever given her mammaries this level of attention. Sure, there was that cute colt that lavished praise on her flank, and a few stallions in town that hated to watch her go but loved to watch her leave. This, though, this was a whole new level of admiration she was getting. And she was enjoying it immensely.

Now, what really piqued Milky’s interest in Sydney's scrutiny of her bosom was a key detail she didn’t know was possible: she was full once more. She had drained herself nearly dry and now, suddenly, she was sloshy all over again. Her morning output of a gallon should have been more than enough last her through the early evening, but here she was, full and fluctuating once again. Another mini orgasm gripped her, Sydney’s attentive lips nursing her for all he was worth, even as her other breast began to issue forth anew.

Eager as a colt with a first estrus filly, Sydney saw the thread of milk beginning to come out of Milky’s other nipple, and he latched onto it. Another mini orgasm tore through Milky, her bare breasts getting more attention than they had in all of her adult life. A warmth spread in her loins, a warmth she typically associated with estrus, although it was the wrong season for it. And yet, she couldn’t stop herself from moaning as her flatmate attended to her swollen endowments, lascivious slurping noises filling up the loft.

“Oh, Sydney,” Milky cooed, “don’t stop!”

Sydney moaned a response around his busy lips, the vibration giving Milky another reason to shudder. The flare in her core was getting warmer; she realized her libido was waking up in a bad way, even if this was the most enjoyable thing she had experienced since finding herself in Boston. If she didn’t stop this soon, she would, by her estimation, she might herself into the precarious position of mounting poor Sydney and riding him until they both pass out.

“Oh, Faust, Sydney,” Milky moans, “Sydney- Sydney, by the silken teats of Luna, you are amazing!”

Another orgasm, this time a full fledged one and Milky can feel her thighs getting damp. Oh, Faust, I can’t be in heat! … Can I? Sydney continued to slurp up Milky’s essence, Milky continued to moan and groan as she is sent into successive climaxes, and the sweet smells of cinnamon and vanilla pervaded the loft. The rising furnace in Milky’s crotch was building to an apex and if she didn’t do something now to end her overstimulation, the cost might be her burgeoning friendship with her human designer friend.

“S-sydney,” she moaned, still in throes of passion, “S-s-sydney, stop, please, luv, S-stop!”

And he did, a contented smile on his face, though that was soon replaced by a worried frown. Oh, how that look killed her, especially when she was a step away from ravishing this stallion.

“Are you okay, Milky?” Syd asked, melting her heart further, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“N-no, luv, ya didn’t,”she shakily assured him, “today’s just not s-safe d-day, for me. I feared what would happen if we went any further.”

“Safe day-?” Sydney began to question, then, “oh, I think I get it? You’re going into your hat cycle?”

“I’m afraid so, luv,” Milky started then, “hey, how do you know about that?”

A self satisfied smirk drew itself on Syd’s face; he replied, “Do you think you’re the only Equestrian here?”

When a confused Milky shrugged, Sydney crossed over to the smartscreen in the sitting room of the loft, flipped it on and turned to CNN. There, in a room with royal blue drapery, flashbulbs popping, and a podium with some kind of seal on it, is an Equestrian mare, a Unicorn to be exact, with a dark brown mane piled in a bun, red needles stuck through it, hipster glasses, and wearing a form fitting ladies business suit. She is the epitome of class and professionalism.

“…and in a few moments, President Celestia will address the press on the new joint initiative, Operation: Insomniac, to combat the increasing threat of Rohyphnol II.”

There is a clammer offscreen and as Milky watches, the professional unicorn walks away from the podium and the next pony the turns up screen is a sight she would soon not forget. The pastel rainbow mane, shifting in an arcane breeze, a beautiful but expertly crafted business suit the clung to the curvaceous body, the soft, motherly smile and kind but old eyes; Milky was looking at Princess Celestia, now under the strange title of “president,” if the superimposed text was to be believed.

“Good evening, fillies and gentlecolts, ladies and gentleman. At this time, I would like to make the following announcement: given the proliferation of the date rape drug Rohyphnol II, also known as “rock ‘n’ roll,” “Rubik’s Cube,” and “after party,” and the effect it has on both humans, Equestrians, and other former Help-Mate© beings, I along with the Department of Justice, The Department of War, The Department of Defense, INTERPOL, and various other international and allied police forces are to begin a task force initiative to stop the manufacture, sale, and possession of the drug on a global scale. Leaders of every country in the UN and some without have seen massive spikes in rape cases, attempted sexual assaults, kidnappings, and false imprisonments because of this drug, and so this new, multinational initiative, called Operation: Insomniac, is to be established to find and halt those who make, sell, and possess this drug with intent to sell it, so that we may safecare the well being of our citizens. I, as well as Secretary Black (the screen shows a swarthy man in dreadlocks) and Secretary Visovic (a tan furred Pegasus stallion with a blonde mane and piercing blue eyes), well be handling the coordination efforts of the task force.”

Sydney turned the screen off as the Pegasus stallion was about to speak.

“I see,” Milky commented, “so I ain’t the only one.”

“Far from,” Syd replied, “Equestrians started appearing during the 2050s and have been steadily trickling in. Random appearances of your people were thought to have stopped abruptly after Sunset Shimmer appeared in Los Angeles. There hasn’t been an Equestrian sighting in nearly three years.”

“Oh,” Milky, “maybe some of my cousins arrived here as well? There’s so much I don’t rightly remember…”

“That’s okay, I’ll help you,” Sydney said, “there’s a website for Equestrians, looking for family members and loved ones across the globe. I think the former Princess Luna set it up. If you want to look-”

“No, no,” Milky said abruptly, “sorry, luv, I just- I’m in heat an’ I don’t tryst meself with you ‘round. You’ve been a fine stallion, gracious even and- I don’t want to cause ya harm, yeah?”

“I get it,” Sydney sad with a smile, “how about we start working on those clothes then, huh? Usually I would measure a model by hand, but if that proves too much for you, I do have a laser tape measure.”

“How does that work?” Milky asked.

“Why don’t you shuck your yoga pants and see,” Syd replied, “when you’re done, you can stand on the carpet here in the sitting room. It won’t be long while I set up the scanner.”

Milky nodded and walked into the sitting room, peeling of her yoga pants and underwear as she did so. She stood in the middle of the carpet, shivering not from cold but from wanton lust brought on by her heat, and tapping a hoof to some unknown beat. Sydney came back into the room with something like a coat rack, but in the guise of a spindly cactus.

“Is that -” Milky began, to which Syd nodded.

“I’m going to use this to take your measurements,” he stated, “unlike the Wear Right kiosks, this device takes into account fabric tensile strength and the flexibility of the client. When I get this started, I’m going to ask you move around a bit, just to get proper readings.”

“Okay…” Milky acquiesced, a nervous jitter in her voice.

The scanning itself didn’t take too long and before she knew it, she was back in bed, snuggled under the covers. Despite her earlier warnings, Syd decided to slip into bed with her, after he had recorded the measurement readings into his computer and saved them for fabrication the next morning. Strangely enough, the presence of the man who brought her to orgasm just by suckling her teats seem to calm Milky down a great deal and even though her loins burned terribly, she fell right to sleep.

Author's Note

This chapter was written within the space a few days during some mania induced writing sessions. There's probably dozens of syntax errors, tense fails, and typos, but I'm publishing this anyway.