Ember didn’t hate machines. She just didn’t need them.
Dragons aren’t ponies, after all. They don’t need machines to thrive, or even to live, because they aren’t weak. Everything they’ve accomplished, they accomplished with their own claws and their own willpower, without the need for fiddly, unnecessary little tools at all.
Ember reminded herself of all this as she went over Rarity’s to-do list yet another time. It was a good way of recapturing her essential dragon-ness, of reinforcing her pride and reasserting her independence. And it was a great way of getting her mind off of her back pain.
Faint wisps of smoke drifted out of Ember’s nostrils as she snorted in irritation. The list looked almost exactly as it had this morning, save for almost all the items on the list being crossed out. Rarity even said that she didn’t have to do everything — or even anything — on the list if she didn’t want to. They were just suggestions, dear, and activities which Rarity might certainly love to see done while she was away, but she needn’t feel obligated to do them if she didn’t want to, and Ember should consider herself an honored guest, and yadda, yadda, yadda. And on the first couple of days in which Rarity was absent, Ember took that advice to heart and hadn’t done anything productive at all, which is what made it even more irritating that she was almost out of things to do.
Now, though, there was almost nothing left to do. The boutique was clean, the mannequins had been rearranged and re-dressed — and Ember was almost positive that they looked relatively okay — in a way that would probably attract more ponies to the boutique once Rarity came back, and even the till and accounting was about as straight as she could manage. There was always restocking the fridge to do for when Rarity came back, but that was still days away, so there was almost nothing she could do now.
And that was garbage. Things would have been so much easier if she didn’t have to worry about it, or if Rarity was actually still around instead of doing stupid dress stuff and leaving her to watch the Ponyville boutique and not being around and —
Ember winced.
Her back hurt. A lot. At this point, her front was starting to hurt, too.
Heaving a world-weary and totally-not-theatrical sigh, Ember slumped over to the Carousel Boutique’s back room.
It was supposed to look fairly homey back there, these days; there were a couple of comfortable-looking chairs in the middle of a tasteful tile floor, a vase full of (artificial, until Rarity came back and picked out proper ones) tulips on a nearby stand, even a radio tuned to a classical music station off to the side. They were nice touches, when Rarity was there. Nice touches to help invoke a calming, relaxed, pleasant mood, while the two of them did their thing.
With Rarity gone, all Ember noticed was the barrel-like tank tucked against the wall. All she saw were the hoses attached to it, the suction tips at the end of them, smaller pails and portable tanks and other neatly organized and carefully arranged machines.
Ember decided that she actually did hate machines a little. And her back was killing her.
Ember attempted to nonchalantly saunter into the room, but her soreness and slightly skewed sense of balance turned her confident stroll into a stumbling gait. And if her unclassy walk was embarrassing, it was nothing compared to her attempt to grope blindly at some of the machinery on the floor.
After all, it was getting harder to look over her chest and see things on the floor beneath her.
With a frustrated swipe, Ember grabbed a handful of...something...stalked over to a chair, and threw herself into it with an exasperated sigh before looking at what she had grabbed. Portable milker — nipple cup, vacuum hose, personal tank, motor, the works — and a tiny “sampler” pail. Slipping the pail between her thighs, Ember looked back at her chest again.
Not that the “normal” size of her breasts was small by any sense of the imagination, but they were absolutely not supposed to be this large. Before Rarity left, Ember’s breasts were something to be proud of: huge, healthy and brimming with the milk that drove Ponyville wild, a self-advertising fertility symbol on a level that ponies couldn’t even dream of challenging.
But they didn’t feel lively and magnificent now; they felt awkward and unwieldy. They didn’t look full and sleek; they looked over engorged and bloated. It had only been a few days since Rarity left, but Ember could already feel herself sliding from an otherworldly sex goddess to some sort of grotesque caricature
Ember took a deep breath, hoisted the nipple cup up to her breast and…
Dang it, not that way, maybe —
Wrong angle, maybe if she tried —
No, it needed to fit on nicely, so if she just —
If the stupid thing would just —
Stupid fiddly little —
Snarling in exasperation, Ember grabbed at the milking equipment and dumped it unceremoniously on the chair beside her. Okay, so thatidea wasn’t going to work today. Not a surprise, since she hadn’t been able to make it work before, and it probably wouldn’t work tomorrow, either. It wasn’t as if she had that many other options, though, so…
Sighing, Ember grabbed the sampler pail with her left hand and brought it just beneath the dragon’s erect nipple. Her right hand reached up to her perk, took it between her thumb and index finger and squeezed.
Nothing.
Aiming her perk dead center of the pail’s bottom, Ember tugged.
Nothing.
“Oh, come on.” Ember groaned. Keeping her grip steady, the dragon pulled, tail lashing as she coaxed her breast with the same calm, even strokes that Rarity had once provided. Ten seconds went by, twenty, thirty. Ember closed her eyes, took a deep breath, brought her milking hand up in front of her face and opened her eyes again.
They weren’t even slightly slick, let alone wet.
Ember roared, grabbed the pail and flung it as hard as she could at the main tank. It bounced off with a hollow clang and bounced back, skipping once over the floor before rolling to a gradual stop. Part of her wanted to bury her face in her palms, but the other part of her reminded herself that she had done that yesterday, and accidentally squeezing her already sore bust in an exasperated gesture had been painful enough then.
Ember hated machines. If there was one thing she hated more than that, it was her stupid, uncooperative body.
She had to think. This wasn’t working, and it felt like her breasts were going to explode, and that needed to not be a thing. But, clearly, she couldn’t do it on her own. Which meant asking for help from ponies she didn’t really know, and it said something about how overstuffed she was that she was even considering that as an option. Granted, she’d be considering it further if any of the other ponies had any idea how milking a dragon actually worked, and the fact that they didn’t was the only thing giving Ember any sort of pause at all.
Magic might do it, though. It wasn’t like there weren’t a couple of magically powerful ponies in ponyville who couldn’t take care of the problem in seconds. There was, uh…
Starlight Sparkle and Starlight Sparkle, yeah. The two ponies that had the same name and looked exactly the same. They were pretty good at magic, weren’t they? There was, uh, the winged pony who loved talking about friendship and asking question after question about other creatures and had a book full of notes she’d written down about, uh…
Ember shook her head. On second thought, that was way creepier than she was willing to deal with. There was still the other one without wings, though, right? The guidance counselor who…
Made two of the pony princesses switch jobs that one time. And before that, she, uh…
Brainwashed an entire town because she didn’t like them. Allegedly.
Okay, so the powerful magic ponies were out. And Ember couldn’t think of anycreature else that could work magic like that, except for the chaos god that one of the ponies hung out with, and...no. Never. That wasn’t happening.
Which left Ember back at square one again.
She had to think. Was there anypony besides Rarity with any experience in dealing with this sort of thing? Ember was willing to settle for somecreature who wasn’t even familiar with dragons at this point. Maybe what worked for ponies would work for dragons, or maybe species didn’t matter as long as they knew how to use equipment originally designed for…
“...Barn work.”
Silence settled on the room. Seconds ticked by.
The answer was equal parts relieving and thoroughly embarrassing. But an answer was an answer, and the alternative was just barely less pleasant to contemplate. Groaning, Ember grabbed at the milker next to her, gingerly got back on her feet and staggered back towards the front of the boutique. If she was going to be heading out of the boutique, she’d have to be dressed appropriately for the occasion. Rarity, after all, would have done nothing less.
***************************************
Ember didn’t hate walks. She just hated them when wings were a viable alternative. Similarly, she hated that the reason why wings weren’t a viable alternative was very large, very cumbersome and undeniably lame-looking. Not to mention hot; something about the combination of the intense summer sun and being swaddled in cloth sheets reminded her of being in the dragonlands. Grimacing as she plodded up yet another hill on a dirt path, Ember pressed on, minute after minute, gradually reconsidering her position on the issue of whether or not bathing in an active volcano would be more pleasurable than this.
And as she was about to come to a definitive conclusion, Ember reached the top of the hill and breathed a sigh of palpable relief.
“Finally.”
In virtually any other circumstance, the sight of Sweet Apple Acres would likely have instilled varying degrees of ambivalence, disenthusiasm and contempt. But right here, right now, it was exactly what Ember needed. Trying to suppress a smile unbecoming for the queen of dragons, Ember clutched her brown shawl around her and hobbled toward the red-and-white barnhouse no more than fifty meters away.
She’d have to keep a nonchalant demeanor, obviously. Being friendly was what ponies did, after all, so there was no point in giving herself an embarrassing reputation over a one time favor. Besides, even if she hadn’t been a friend of Rarity’s, the applepony who worked here was supposed to be reliable and friendly and a bunch of other pony babble that basically ensured that she’d help Ember out with whatever Ember needed.
Play it cool, Ember told herself as she passed under the orchard’s inner archway, shifted her grip on the shawl and the milker’s hose into one hand, and kept walking.
This will turn out fine, she told herself as she plodded up to the front door.
Everything’s under control.
Ember raised her fist, banged on the door and waited.
Seconds passed. The heat trapped under the shawl clung to Ember like bile. The slow, unsettling realization that the farm pony might not actually be home started to sink in.
Then the door swung open, and Ember just barely suppressed a smile. There she was: Orange, blonde mane, brown hat, the faintest hint of consternation on her lips.
“For the last time, Applebloom,” the pony said, “I ain’t got no idea where y’all left your club ledger. If you checked everywhere an’ you still can’t find it, maybe you left it with — ”
The farm pony paused, blinking, as if finally realizing that she was speaking to someone else. Ember could practically hear the gears turning in her brain as the farm pony…
...Frowned?
“The farm ain’t lookin’ for improvement suggestions, I ain’t doin’ nothin’ for business-like endeavors an’ I’m takin’ the day off to relax. Bye.”
Ember’s arm shot out as the farm pony yanked on the door handle, catching the door mere inches away from the doorframe. The pony may have been strong, but she wasn’t a dragon; still, judging by the way she kept tugging at the door, she likely wasn’t used to being weaker than somedragon else.
“Let...go...of...th’...door!” The pony growled.
“What’s your deal?” Ember snapped, tightening her grip. “Why are you being a jerk?”
“You know...hff. You sure as sugar know why. I ain’t...won’t get sucked into this.”
“Really. I know why.” Ember snorted. “Okay, so maybe you can tell me what I’m supposed to know? ‘Cause that’d be really helpful right now.”
“Stop it.” Something changed in the pony’s voice. It sounded a little less angry, a little more...not sad, not scared, not…
Maybe she was frustrated? That wasn’t quite it, but...
A renewed tug on the door brought Ember back down to reality.
“Git. Go away” the farm pony spat. “There ain’t nothin’ for you here.”
“Go away? Go away?” Something ugly began to stir in Ember’s guts, and the idea of burning the whole orchard to the ground seemed uncomfortably tempting.
“Yep” The farm pony replied. “Take care, have a nice trip back — ”
“No. No, I am not going to have a nice trip back!” Ember snarled, barely resisting the impulse to rip the door off its hinges. “I spent at least an hour walking here, on foot, wrapped up in enough fabric that i feel like a dress factory is trying to strangle me to death, on a hot enough day that I saw all of, like, three ponies outside the entire way here. My back hurts, my front hurts, my feet are killing me and I can’t even spread my wings to drink in the sun and cool off a little! And you want me to spend another hour walking back, having done exactly nothing I came here to do, and you aren’t even going to tell me why?”
The pony stopped tugging on the door, but didn’t reply. Silence settled, unbroken by even a small puff of wind.
Ember sighed. “Okay. Fine. Look, can I at least have something to drink? I’m seriously thirsty.”
The pony coughed. “...We got water.”
“Perfect.” Ember sighed. “Do you want me to stand out here, or…?”
“...Nah. Come in.” The door hinges creaked slightly, and Ember relaxed her grip as the pony pushed the door open and stepped back. A pink tinge had settled on the pony’s cheeks, but she didn’t look angrier than she had before — if anything, she looked a little calmer.
“O...kay. Sure. Whatever.” At any other point in time, the farmpony’s attitude shift would have warranted a nonchalant shrug, but the shawl weighing her down - alongside a couple of other things - meant that the gesture wouldn’t really be visible and would probably be uncomfortable. Instead, she settled for keeping her face casually neutral as she followed the farmpony inside.
Fortunately, there was plenty inside the farmpony’s house to feel neutral about. Everything from the sturdy-looking furniture to the plain, sensible color scheme to the noticeable, if not prominent, displays of family living brought exactly one impression to mind: the place was utterly, overwhelmingly sensible. Safe, riskless, visibly designed for communal relaxation — things other ponies probably thought were completely charming and wholesome.
Wholesome?
“Ugh.” Ember moaned as she followed the farm pony into the kitchen. “Okay, that probably explains everything. Great.”
“Huh?” The farm pony said, reaching up into a set of cupboards next to a sink.
“Are you a…” Ember trailed off. “Wait, first, you have a name, right? I’m gonna feel weird just saying ‘you’ all the time.”
“Applejack. Ain’t Rarity ever tol’ you that?” the pony replied, pulling out a mug and setting it under the faucet.
“I don’t exactly see you. Like, at all. I know Rarity has a friend that works on a farm and she lives all the way out here for some crazy reason — ”
“The crazy reason is that i work out here. And it ain’t a farm. It’s an orchard. An apple orchard.” Applejack lapsed briefly into silence, her word drowned out by the hiss of tap water filling a mug, and she waited until the mug was full before turning off the tap and speaking up again. “Besides, if’n you know me well enough to know where this is, th’ least you could do is give me the courtesy of tryin’ to learn my name.”
“Yeah, ponies say that. And I’d be more inclined to believe them if pony names didn’t all sound the same.” Ember looked over at the chairs surrounding the kitchen table. “Can I sit down?”
“Sure. And no, they don’t.” Applejack turned around, mug in hand. “Dragon names all do. Y’all got like ‘Ember’ this an’ ‘Cinder’ that an’ ‘Torch’ an’ whatnot. It’s like all y’all do is make fire all day, all the time.”
“Uh, because we’re dragons? Making fire is sort of a thing we do.” Rolling her eyes, Ember sat down. “What about ponies? You don’t ‘make’ how rare something is, so I dunno what Rarity’s name is supposed to mean, and at least I understand where that name’s coming from. Then you’ve got, like, your two identical twin friends that run that friendship school. Like, Star Power and Nite Brite or something? And I don’t even know what to think about names like that.”
Applejack snorted as she set down the mug in front of Ember, and a corner of her mouth twitched upward in a faint smile. “Can’t say I’ve heard of names like those before, sugarcube.”
“I know, right? It just goes on and on and on. But I guess if you make apples, then your name kind of makes sense.” Ember sighed and leaned back slightly in her chair, though she kept the shawl clenched securely around her. “I dunno what ‘jack’ is supposed to mean, though. Is that some kind of slang, or…?”
“Ain’t nothin’ special.” A light pink tinge still lingered on Applejack’s face, and she seemed almost sheepish as she took the seat across from Ember. “Jes’ some kind of drink some of us folks enjoy. Ain’t much t’say about it.”
“Huh.” Ember took a sip of water and almost shuddered in relief as the cool, invigorating liquid trickled down her throat. “Ahhhhhh, that’s better. So what do you mean by ‘some kind of drink?’ ”
Applejack huffed. “Y’know, the kind grown-up folks enjoy. Again, it ain’t nothin’ special.”
“Okay, then.” Ember took another drink of water, set the mug aside and leaned over the table. “Are you some kind of prude, or something?”
Applejack’s smile vanished, her frown returned and the pink tinge on her cheeks grew darker. “I let you into my house even though it wasn’t a good idea, an’ you’re gonna thank me for that by insultin’ me?”
“It’s not an insult! Geez!” Ember scooted back. “I’m just saying!”
“An’ why are you ‘just sayin’?” Applejack replied.
“Because you don’t want to talk about drinks that hatchlings shouldn’t have when there aren’t hatchlings around, your place looks like it was designed to be as inoffensive as possible and you got incredibly weird when I wanted to come in. If you hate being an adult — ”
“I don’t hate bein’ an adult!” Applejack sputtered. “And that ain’t even what bein’ a prude means! At all!”
“Oh?” Ember fought the urge to cross her arms over her chest. “So what’s it mean, then?”
“It’s when you got the common sense to know that there ain’t any sense gettin’ worked up about stuff that children aren’t gonna understand or enjoy, just because it’s something they ain’t gonna understand or enjoy. It means keepin’ a level head about serious topics an’ treating ‘em with the dignity an’ respect they deserve.” Applejack puffed out her chest, looking rather proud.
Ember drummed her fingers against the table. “So it means you just hate thinking about adult stuff, instead.”
Applejack exhaled and glared at Ember. “That ain’t — what’s it to you, anyway? Why does it matter what it’s supposed to mean?”
“Because if it means what I think it means — ”
“An’ phrase your response carefully, Sugarcube.” Applejack tugged the brim of her hat down. “I try to be patient with folks, but my patience has a limit, and I ain’t keen on wastin’ perfectly valuable time on sittin’ here and being made fun of by some — ”
“Then it means that I made you feel really uncomfortable just by showing up and making you think about whatever it is you’re thinking about. It means that you’re trying to be helpful despite the fact that I’m making you uncomfortable by sticking around. And it means that if I weren’t a complete jerk, the best thing I could do would be to turn around and leave right now. And trust me, if I didn’t come here specifically because I thought you were the only pony who could get something sorted out for me, then I’d be seriously considering it.”
Applejack blinked.
“You don’t want me to be here. I don’t want to be here, either, but I don’t really have a choice” Ember pressed. Applejack’s face softened a little, but not enough.
Ember hated the idea of pulling out all the conversational stops. But she hated the idea of walking away even more.
“I…” Ember sucked in a deep breath of air. “I need. Your help. A lot.”
Applejack blinked again, now looking more uncertain than anything else. Still not good enough. Ember took another deep breath.
“Please.” Ember continued. “Please help me.”
Applejack rubbed her eyes, sighed and turned to stare at the ground. For a few seconds, nopony said anything; only a nearby clock ticked off the passage of time.
“...Dang it, I really don’t feel comfortable with this at all.” Applejack sighed. “But I reckon that if you had somepony else you figured could help you right, you’d have gone there by now. And if nopony else can help you out with it, then...I guess it wouldn’t be very pony-like of me to refuse.” Applejack readjusted the brim of her hat. “I jes’ hope that it’s somethin’ sane an’ sensible. Nothin’ crazy or explosive or dangerous or...or weird. Especially not weird. What is it?”
Ember opened her mouth, faltered, sighed and started again. “It’s something weird.”
“Of course it is.” Applejack rubbed her eyes. “An you didn’t reckon you could try to figure it out on your own?”
Ember snorted. “Oh, believe me, I tried. I’ve been trying for days. There’s something that I’m missing, but it’s certainly not effort, and if I knew what it was then I wouldn’t be here in the first place. Seriously, why do you think I feel all kinds of ‘unpleasant’ right now?” The dragon brought one hand up to make finger quotes —
— and her shawl started to slide out of her grasp. Desperately, Ember leaned over to grab at its edges, gripping onto the fabric just in time and pulling it over her chest.
Mashing her arms against her chest.
Her seriously milk-laden, seriously overdue chest.
It was a small miracle that Ember managed to restrain herself both from burning down the kitchen in a bout of pain-fueled rage and from dropping an expletive loud enough to break every pane of glass in the entire house. She didn’t manage to restrain herself from letting out a garbled “Gggghhhhhhheeeeeehhhhh” sound or from making a face akin to somedragon choking on a salmon full of razor blades, but that would have required a true miracle.
Ember wheezed. She sputtered. Her eyes bulged, her face flushed and her tail thrashed like a startled viper. Briefly, the world around her seemed completely unimportant in light of the pain coursing from her chest towards every last nerve in her body. It took a few seconds for Ember to muster up the presence of mind to try to pay attention to the world around her, not that it was worth it - there wasn’t a whole lot to try to like about the stupid wholesome kitchen with stupid wholesome furniture and the farm pony’s…
...mildly concerned expression.
Well, at least that was different.
“What?” Ember spat.
“Nothin’.” Applejack replied. “Jes’...concerned, a little. Startin’ to get an idea of how much whatever you’ve got goin’ on might be an issue.”
“Oh, you’re only now starting to get the idea?” Ember rolled her eyes. “What, was my telling you to your face that I have a problem not a big enough hint?”
“Don’t get smart with me.” Applejack snapped back. “You think I ain’t never been pranked before?”
Ember’s jaw dropped. “Wh- you’d think this was a prank? You think I’d go to all this trouble just to, to, just to try and pull one over on somepony I barely even know?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know whatall to think!” Voice rising to match Ember’s, Applejack leaned across the table and jabbed a hoof at Ember. “You think I get ponies asking me about...about the sort of things you’re probably gonna ask me about? At all?”
“Uh, I don’t know, how many dragon queens show up in Ponyville? Probably a lot, huh?” Ember stood up. “So I imagine that dragons prank ponies about this sort of thing all the time! It’s totally not a one-off thing at all!”
“That’s not what I — ”
“So what is it, then? What?” Ember stared down at Applejack, ready to deliver a scathing tirade.
Then she caught the expression on Applejack’s face.
The heat in the room didn’t dip a single degree, and still Ember could practically feel the heat draining out of her veins.
“I’m being a jerk, aren’t I?” Ember said.
Applejack didn’t say anything.
Ember sighed, sat down again and stared at the table.
Applejack continued not to say anything.
Ember didn’t force the issue. Seconds ticked by in silence. The atmosphere of sour insinuations and unchecked vitriol tainted what should have been the folksy ambiance of the Sweet Apple Acres’ kitchen.
Then Ember took a deep breath.
“Is there anything you want to talk about?” Ember said. “Or that you want me to talk about.”
Silence.
“I can...I can leave. I really don’t like the idea, but I can’t force you to do this. And I shouldn’t get mad at you for not wanting to do this.” Ember took another breath. “But if you don’t hate the idea of talking about it, then I can promise that nodragon outside of the two of us ever knows about this. Okay?”
Applejack didn’t say anything, but — ever so slightly — she nodded.
“Okay.” Ember sighed. “Okay.”
Applejack continued to not say anything. Ember stared at the table, trying not to drum her digits on its surface.
Her chest still hurt. A lot. Her back still hurt, too. And she was still hot. Things weren’t working out, clearly. She didn’t want to leave, at all, but there wasn’t a whole lot of point in sticking around if Applejack wasn’t even going to attempt to communicate —
“What is it.” Applejack paused, briefly. “What, exactly, uh…”
Ember waited.
Applejack cleared her throat. “What sorta thing are you talking about.”
“Right. That.” Ember gripped her wrap a little tighter, filling her claws with thick, cloying fabric and the faint rubber of the milker’s hose. “Well, uh. You’ve had...you drink the hard stuff, right? Alcohol? Just making sure.”
Applejack nodded.
“So you know about the stuff Rarity and I sell. Dragon’s milk.”
“That I do.”
Ember tilted her head. “And you know about how it’s made, right?”
Applejack sighed. “...Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
“So you know what I’m getting at, right?”
Applejack’s cheeks tinged pink. Ember couldn’t tell whether or not it was out of irritation. “You, ah…”
Applejack faltered.
“...You want me to milk you, don’t you?”
“Need, honestly. If I could do it on my own, I’d have done it, like, days ago. This wouldn’t be an issue at all. But I’m clearly messing something up.” Ember looked down at the cloth swaddled over her scales. “Ugh. Hey, could I take this off? Like, just for a couple of seconds? It’s —”
“Go ahead” Applejack replied, voice wavering a little. “But, like...Jes’ do it a bit slow, okay? Or lemme look away from you for a bit, or somethin’.”
“Uh…” Ember blinked. “They really offend you that much, huh?”
“I ain’t...I ain’t sure I’m all that offended by ‘em, really, but…” Applejack readjusted her hat. “Doesn’t mean I’m comfortable lookin’ at ‘em head-on.”
“Huh.” Ember looked down at her makeshift body wrap. “I guess putting this on really was a good idea, then. So, can I…?”
Applejack turned her head, gazing pointedly out of a window behind Ember. “Sure.”
“Great.” Ember shifted, then relaxed her grip on the cloth entirely. Carefully, Ember leaned over enough to place the milker on the table as the cloth fell away from her shoulders and
Oh, great pyre in the sky, that feels fantastic.
Ember sighed and relaxed back against her chair as the cloth fell down around her waist and legs. Her eyelids fluttered closed in four seconds of bliss, and she almost regretted having to open them again and wait for things to progress. Still, the worst case scenario — and the most likely scenario — was that Applejack was going to refuse to give any sign of being interested in helping her, which would just give her more time to relax and feel fresh air over her breasts again.
Ember opened her eyes.
While she wasn’t sure of whether or not it was a sign that Applejack wanted to help her, the mare’s unabashed gaze at Ember’s rack certainly wasn’t what Ember was expecting. Especially not the sort of wide-eyed, flush-faced stare Ember normally saw on teenage dragons when they ogled her —
Applejack tilted her head just far enough upwards to notice she was being watched. The mare jerked her head to the side as sharply and as suddenly as if she had just flown into a mountain at full force. The corners of her mouth curled down in what was probably supposed to be a disgruntled frown, but which looked no more realistic than a mannequin’s smile.
Ember cleared her throat. “...You don’t have to stop looking if you don’t want to.”
Ever so slightly, Applejack shook her head. “Yeah. I do.”
“No, seriously.” Ember straightened up in her chair. “It’s okay.”
“It ain’t.” Applejack replied, a little softer.
“It is. Seriously.” A thin trickle of smoke wafted out of Ember’s nostrils. “I’m okay with it.”
“I ain’t.”
Ember blinked. “I...hold on a second. Are you mad at me for existing?”
“That ain’t it.” Applejack’s head jerked back towards Ember, and there was something in the farm pony’s eyes that was fundamentally…
Applejack swallowed. “That ain’t it at all.”
Comprehension billowed over Ember like a plume of volcanic ash.
The dragon sighed and rubbed her eyes, though it was a noticeably softer sigh than before. “So that’s why you thought this was a prank. You thought somedragon was making fun of you for liking this.”
“Didn’t think anypony knew.” Applejack sniffed. “Didn’t know how anypony coulda found out.”
“I think I’m the only pony who knows, if that helps. Or dragon, or whatever.” Ember rested a hand on top of the table, palm spread in nonchalance. “If that helps.”
“It don’t. I mean, it does, but, y’know, it…” Applejack readjusted her hat. “It ain’t gonna change what I want changed.”
“And that is…?”
Applejack stared down at the table. “...I don’t want to feel like this. Feel like...y’know...when I see, uh, when...when I see…”
Ember took her hand off of the table and gently rested it on one of her breasts. “These.”
“Yeah.”
“And you know that you wouldn’t be the first pony to like them, right? Or even to feel, you know, like you might really be into — ”
“I know.” Applejack glared at the table. “You don’t think I don’t think about stuff like that?”
“So what’s the problem? Nobody’s gonna judge you — ”
“Wrong!” Applejack snapped as she looked up and jabbed a hoof at Ember. “There’s always me. I’m always gonna judge myself for it. If I’m a pony who owns up to likin’ whatever I please, then that makes me the sort of pony who likes all kinds of nonsensical things! An’ in the worst way!”
“There’s a wrong way to like things?” Ember snorted. “You’re making it sound like it’s wrong to fantasize, you know that?”
“It ain’t for other ponies!” Applejack yelled. “But it is for me! Don’t you get that?”
“What are you — no, I don’t get it! At all!” Ember shouted back. “How does that make sense?”
“Look, Fluttershy an' maybe Pinkie are the only elements that can just get by on being 'nice' to other folks. The rest of us, we've got ideas to represent. We got to stand for something. Twilight's got to be the one who likes readin', but she likes readin', so that's fine. Rarity's got to do the bein' good at makin' dresses and bein' a go-getter at sellin'...whatever...an' she's good at that, too. Dash? All she's got to be is the sporty one, and if she ain't the dang ol' rootiniest tootiniest gosh darned best wonderbolt that ever was, then i don't know what is!” Applejack spat. “An' me? I get to be The reliable one. I get to be The good ol' pony everypony else can count on. The normal, everyday workmare. I need you. I need you to imagine."
Applejack tucked a few strands of her mane behind her ear.
“I need you to imagine what it’s like to put yourself in a set of workboots. A good set of boots, reliable boots, ‘cause you’re a good, reliable pony. Every day, you go about wearin’ your reliable boots an’ bein’ a reliable pony, an’ everyone’s super duper thankful that they can count on the oh-so-familiar you an’ your oh-so-familiar boots.”
“Okay.” Ember rested her forearms on the table and latticed her fingers together. “I’m imagining. What’s next?”
“What’s next is you realize one day that your soles of your boots ain’t actually as thick as you thought they were. They look just as thick, sure, but you realize that they’re worn real thin — an’ then you realize that they’ve been that way a while, real close to bein’ undone, an’ you’ve just been pretendin’ it hasn’t been that way. An’ you keep pretendin’ they ain’t that way, pretend it real good, even though you know exactly how much they ain’t. An’ everypony else thinks it’s fine an’ dandy, you wearin’ these threadbare boots that don’t look any different from the sturdiest, most reliable boots in all of equestria. An’ you gots to be like that forever.”
“And you can’t take them off?” Ember probed gently.
“Never. The soles are all worn out, but the rest of the boots an’ what they stand for is stuck to your legs like glue...for now. But when the soles wear out entirely or you try an’ take them off on your own?”
“They don’t come off?”
Applejack chuckled darkly. “Oh, no, sugarcube. They come off.”
Then Applejack slammed her hoof down on the table.
“An’ they take your whole DAMNED LEGS WITH ‘EM! All your coat, your skin, your muscles, all them other useful, grisly bits just get peeled right off! An’ you’re left tryin’ to hobble around on bones you ain’t supposed to be hobblin’ around on, an’ which you can’t really hobble around on anyway! An’ even if you could, it’d still be plain as pears that what you are is what everyone thought you weren’t. All you ever wanted to do was wear the sensible boots that sensible folks do, an’...an’ the price you pay for that, if you ain’t normal, is worse than for folks that never tried to be sensible at all. An’ you don’t even realize you’ve been played like a fiddle until the boots start wearin’ thin. And it’s...and I…”
Applejack slouched back against her chair’s backrest and stared at the table.
“I hate my…”
Applejack trailed off, chewing her lower lip for a second or two.
“...my boots. I hate ‘em.”
Silence. Applejack continued to stare at the table. Ember counted off the seconds, waiting for Applejack to pick up the conversation again.
Four seconds. Six seconds. Eight seconds.
“You know I don’t really like how my body works, right?” Ember said.
Applejack looked up. “Pardon?”
“I mean, I could tell you otherwise. I could talk about how my body’s nothing to be ashamed of, how i’m doing something unique that makes other ponies happy, how i’m in a privileged situation that most ponies wouldn’t be able to come close to having. And it’s not as if it’s entirely untrue, you know? But at the end of the day, I’m not really in control of what I am.” Ember pointed a talon at one of her breasts. “I’m not even really in control of what I can do with it.”
“You ain’t?” Applejack replied, looking up.
“Nope. Not even close.” Ember gently prodded her boob. “Rarity’s the one who knows the pony that can keep me productive. Rarity’s the one with the equipment that helps me collect this, and the pony that sells it to everypony else. Rarity knows societal savvy, business acumen, everything. Even how to properly milk a dragon.” Ember sighed. “I exist, and that’s about all I do, y’know? And again, it’s not entirely a bad thing, and there’s a lot to like about Rarity, trust me.”
“Yeah. I do.” Applejack tugged her hat’s brim upward and stared at Ember. “I ain’t sayin’ I agree with her all the time, but I don’t reckon she doesn’t want us all to be happy in the end. Rarity’s just Rarity.”
“Does things her own way, right?” Ember cracked a small smile.
Applejack returned the smile. “Eeyup.”
“I don’t want to hold that against her, I really don’t. But that doesn’t mean i don’t feel kind of helpless, y’know? And it sucks. A lot. Not exactly something I’m used to.” Ember reached up and scratched the back of her head. “I’d rather it wasn’t the case, but it’s not exactly something I can manage. Unless I just want to walk away from everything and try to deal with, y’know, this on my own. Which would also be not great.”
“I can imagine.” Applejack nodded. A hint of something warm and non-hostile slipped into Applejack’s voice. “Darned if you do, darned if you don’t, huh?”
“Pretty much.” Ember nodded. “If nothing else, I wouldn’t have some of the problems I have if I knew a little more about what I’m doing.”
“Didn’t figure it was like that, exactly.” Applejack shifted in her seat. “Feelin’ like you’ve got no control over a buncha things you do.”
“I didn’t exactly want people to know I’m unhappy. Didn’t think it would make things better for anypony if they found out.” Ember cocked her head. “You’re the only pony I’ve vented about this to, by the way. The only anything, really. Then again, I didn’t think anycreature else would care. Maybe you don’t either, but — ”
“I care.” Applejack interrupted, uncrossing her forelegs. “It’s kinda funny, like looking from the other side of a mirror or somethin’. An’ maybe for you it’s other folks not caring instead of ‘em caring too much, but helpless is helpless.”
“I didn’t think about it that way. Huh.” Ember sat up a little. “I guess you’re right, though.”
Ember frowned.
“Being helpless sucks.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Applejack heaved a sigh. “You know what?”
“What?”
“I’ll…” Applejack’s jaw clenched, stiff as lumber for a second or two. “I’ll...I’ll help you.”
Ember arched an eyebrow. “You don’t have to.”
“After all you just said?” Applejack huffed. “ ‘Course I do. You think I’d really just leave you feelin’ helpless after all you just said?”
“And you think I’d keep forcing the issue after hearing about how you felt about all this? Look, I was garbage enough for forcing my way in here, I’d be extra garbage if I kept forcing the issue after learning about everything that’s been going on.” Ember leaned back in her chair again. “You think I’d really demand you to do something knowing that you’ve got big, complicated feelings about it?”
Applejack arched her eyebrow in a nearly perfect mirror of Ember’s expression. “You think I’d let a pony who I know’s feelin’ helpless and hopeless about their situation keep feelin’ helpless an’ hopeless after I figure it out? Even if that pony ain’t literally a pony?”
“Heh. Fair.” Ember sat back up again. “Only if you’re really serious, though.”
“I am.” Applejack paused for a second, before dropping her gaze back to the table. “Tho’...one condition.”
“What condition?”
“I…” Applejack’s cheeks went slightly pink. “You ain’t allowed t’make fun of me if I get all, y’know. All awkward an’ stuff.”
“You seriously think I’d make fun of you? I’d have to be, like, the biggest jerk in the world to do that.” Ember smirked. “Besides, you might change your mind about helping me if I did, and I’d have to fly back with my tits still incredibly sore.”
Applejack blushed. “I don’t suppose you could use a word that weren’t so brazen-like?”
“Okay, flying back with my chest still sore. Is that better?”
Applejack nodded, her blush darkening a little.
Ember’s smirk spread into a grin. “You know you’re adorable, right? Even by pony standards?”
Applejack sputtered as she looked back up at Ember. “Wh- No I ain’t! What in the hay’s that supposed t’even mean, anyway?”
“It means that you’re bothering to ask permission about silly things and use polite terminology about them, even when it’s not necessary. It means you’re trying really hard to hold yourself back when I know you want the opposite. It means you’re being as pony-ish as it’s possible for a pony to be, but in a good way. It reminds me of some of the teen dragons back in the dragonlands, you know? Getting totally flustered at the slightest hint of something they want being basically right in front of them. Except, you know, better.” Ember rested her hand on the table. “You’re not openly staring at me, making crude remarks when you think I can’t hear you or trying to ‘accidentally’ brush up against me. So, yeah, adorable. Even if you’re not trying to be.”
Applejack pointed her hoof at Ember. “That’s — ”
“And I mean that in a good way,” Ember added. “It means I think you’re likable. And that I want to see you happy. Is that what you were going to ask about? What I meant by it?”
Applejack’s jaw dropped, and she didn’t move for a second or two. Then, her face pinkish-red, Applejack glanced back down at the table. “...Mebbe.”
“Cool.” Taking pains not to jostle her rack, Ember slowly shifted about in her chair, until she was facing off to one side of the table, inadvertently giving Applejack a perfect view of her sideboob. “I’m ready when you are, then. If you need to calm down, though, I can wait.”
“Nah. I should...I should be good. I think.” Applejack cleared her throat, then slid off of her chair. Hooking a foreleg around one of the chair’s legs, Applejack dragged the chair around the table, eventually sliding it right up in front of Ember’s chair. With a soft “hup,” Applejack hoisted herself up into the chair, staring face-to-face at Ember.
“Hey,” Ember said, giving Applejack a little wave. “Hi.”
Applejack covered her face with her hooves.
“That bad already, huh?” Ember scratched the back of her neck. “Even though you were just looking at my face?”
“You’re so close, an’ all that. Just. Real physically close.” Applejack mumbled. “Which means they’re, y’know…”
Ember smirked. “You really like them, don’t you.”
“I thought you said you weren’t gonna make fun of me.” Applejack mumbled.
“I’m not. I promise. And, y’know what? I also promise that if you want to touch them or whatever, that’s fine. Even outside of helping me with this, I mean.”
Applejack mumbled incoherently.
“Want me to give you a minute?”
Applejack nodded.
Ember was fully aware that waiting in utter silence, with nothing else happening whatsoever, was unbearably dull. Waiting in general, of course, was pretty lame, but there were definitely degrees of lame that seperated “bearable” from “I want to stick my head in a lava tube and scream because I’m so bored.” And yet, watching Applejack wasn’t really like that. The farm pony wasn’t saying anything concrete, sure, and wasn’t really doing much of anything obvious. But her body language wasn’t speaking so much as it was transcribing a novella.
Applejack squirmed. She twitched. She spread her forehooves apart just a crack, caught a brief glimpse of Ember’s chest and squeezed them shut again. Her tail flicked. She moaned, twice. Chewed her lip once. Took a steadying breath to calm herself at least five times - Ember eventually stopped counting. When she finally took her hooves away from her face, it was with her eyelids closed, and she didn’t open them until she had tilted her head higher upward than it needed to be, almost to an exaggerated degree.
But when she made eye contact with Ember, she didn’t look away despite her flushed face.
“Hey. Again.” Ember said.
“H-hey.” Applejack stammered. “I think...I think that was my minute, right?”
It was well over a minute. “About that much, yeah.”
“Alright. I.” Applejack paused. “If I think about it all technical-like, like I’m just helpin’ out with, y’know, chores or whatever. If I do that, I don’t reckon it’ll be a problem.”
What, so I’m like livestock, now? “Sounds sensible.”
“Right.” Applejack paused. “Can you, uh...can you show me what you’re doin’? That didn’t work? So we can figure out how to make it work for the future, an’ all that.”
“Oh! Uh, sure.” Ember grabbed the portable milker off of the table and once again set the nipple cup around the nub protruding from her breast. Once again, she tried to fit the thing around her properly, tried to secure it, tried-
“That ain’t it.”
Ember lifted her head up. “Pardon?”
“You ain’t gonna get any suction that way. It ain’t gonna be a clean fit, an’ it ain’t gonna stick on properly. You got to make it feel like an extension of your lady-bit. Here.”
Applejack — back in her element and looking significantly calmer — leaned forward and pressed her hooves up against the cup. She moved her hooves a little slowly, as if exaggerating her motions to make them more noticeable, and Ember felt the cup finally secure itself to her, like it did whenever Rarity put it on.
“How…?” Ember trailed off.
“Did’ja get what I showed you?” Applejack replied, hoof working over the cup’s edge and examining the seal.
“I mean, it did, just...I tried to make it look like that, too. I know you did it differently, but it didn’t look all that different, so I don’t get how it worked for you and didn’t work for me.”
“ ‘Cause you didn’t try to make it feel like there was somethin’ going around it. Appearances don’t matter as much as texture. If it don’t seem like something’s tryin’ to drink out of you, then it’s not gonna work.” Applejack replied, matter-of-factly. “You said you had some kinda problem with doin’ it by hoof, too?”
“Right, right.” Ember paused. “Uh, do you have, like, a cup or something?”
“Would a mug work? I got some in the cabinets” Applejack replied.
“Sure. Sure, that works.”
As Applejack turned to go fetch the mug, Ember switched the milker on. There was a hum, a short tug, then…
Yes. Yes. Bright motes in the dusk, this feels incredible.
Ember just barely suppressed a moan as Applejack turned around, mug in hand. To Applejack’s credit, she paused only slightly before returning to her chair and placing her mug next to Ember’s chest.
“So what’s your technique look like when you ain’t usin’ the milker?” Applejack said.
“Right! Right, uh.” Ember grabbed the mug in one hand while her other slid over to her nipple. Grabbing the perk firmly between thumb and forefinger, she gave it a tug. Then another. Then —
“Stars n’ Garters! You really ain’t never done this before at all, huh?” Applejack huffed, leaned forward and grabbed Ember’s hand in her hoof. “Ain’t you never had a dragon baby before?”
“Uh, no?” Ember arched an eyebrow. “You really think I’d be here if I had a hatchling to watch over?”
“Fair, fair. Look, the way you make it work is by makin’ it feel like you’ve got a dragon baby to feed, okay? You got to make your body think it’s got to give milk for a kid. It’s got to feel like you’ve got somethin’ attached to there and do it natural-like. Here.” Applejack moved Ember’s hand, as if there was something beneath her perk trying to latch on, tugging on it for —
Oh, yes, yesssssssssssssssssss…
Ember closed her eyes for a bit longer than a standard blink When she opened them again, she saw a rather healthy-looking puddle of milk at the bottom of the mug.
“Hey, it worked! Thanks, App — ”
“I shouldn’t have touched your hand.” Applejack jerked her hoof back, and Ember looked up to see the pony somewhat pale in the face, shivering in the unrelenting heat in the farmhouse. “That weren’t...that weren’t polite of me. Sorry.”
“It was fine. Seriously.” Ember gave her nipple another tug, and sighed in relief as more amber liquid squirted out into the mug. “See? You helped me figure it out.”
“I know, but…” Applejack gulped. “But that was one of your private…”
“Look, I get you’re embarrassed. I really do. But there’s nothing wrong with what you did, okay? It’s been a huge help, really.” A smile slipped onto Ember’s face as her chest finally started to ache less. “Look...I’ll put it this way. What if I asked you to touch them? Like, not just said it was okay, but ask you directly. Could you please do that?”
“Wh-what? What in…” Applejack sputtered. “Why?”
“Because I’d prefer it if you weren’t uncomfortable around them? And I legitimately think that would help make things more comfortable for you in the long run.” Ember cocked her head. “And I’d be more comfortable if you’d be more comfortable. Please?”
“W-well, I, y-you…” Applejack’s eyes flickered around the room. “Y-you don’t gotta ask something just ‘cause you figured it’d be for my sake, I-I mean —”
“I’m not asking for your sake. Or not just for your sake, rather. We can say I’m asking for mine too, okay? Pretty please?”
Applejack froze, then pulled her forehooves in front of her chest. Opened her mouth. Shut it. Opened it again.
“I…” Applejack trailed off. “...Could I?”
“That’s what I just asked, yeah.” Ember rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Seriously. Give it a feel.”
Applejack reached out slowly, inches at a time, gently hovering in the air as it crossed the distance between the two of them. Then, finally, it closed the gap and gently pressed against the side of Ember’s pump-attached breast.
Applejack’s eyes lit up. “Wow.”
“That good, huh?” Ember replied, letting her free hand slide off of her nipple.
“Good? It’s incredible. It’s like I figured it’d be but, like, in th’ best possible way. It’s all smooth an’ soft an’, an’, an all silk-like…” Applejack trailed off, and her hoof slid a surreptitious inch over Ember’s immense teal globe. “Good gravy, I don’t even…”
“You wouldn’t be the first who, uh, ‘didn’t even’ or whatever.” As the pump worked away at her swollen, tender breast, Ember set the cup down on her thigh, brought her thumb and forefinger up to her other nipple, squeezed, and pulled. Slowly, gently, like there was some kind of baby dragon attached to her —
Finally. Yes. Yessssss.
Ember blinked and stared back at the mug. It looked a little fuller than before. Ember reached down, picked up the mug and set it lightly down on the table while Applejack’s hoof continued to explore her breast, and as she pulled her hand away she noticed her fingers were slick. A thick, amber bead of liquid had pooled up on top of her forefinger, practically ready to spill over.
Almost as if it was ready to be tasted.
Ember’s grin widened. “Hey, Applejack?”
“Mmm?” Applejack grunted, seemingly oblivious to Ember’s face or free hand.
“I haven’t gotten to test if this batch of my product’s okay.”
Applejack paused. “...Uh?”
“And I know you’re, y’know, a pretty reliable customer. Rarity appreciates that, you know.”
“...And?” Applejack slowly lifted her head.
Ember held out her forefinger towards Applejack’s muzzle. “Think you could taste-test for me? Just a bit?”
Applejack’s face went crimson; her neck, oak-stiff. “Um. Uh. I...uh.”
“I’m not saying you have to. I’m just saying you’d probably be better at it than any...anypony else. Ugh, that still sounds weird to say, but — ”
“Alright.”
Ember paused. “Huh? Really?”
“Alright. Okay. Um.” Applejack turned towards Ember’s slick finger and took a deep breath, then another. Slowly, she tilted her head. Slowly, her lips parted. Slowly, she slid her mouth around Ember’s finger, and let her tongue probe outward as she shut her lips again.
But Applejack’s reaction was anything but slow. The loud moan that escaped her lips was almost instantaneous, and the way she slid down Ember’s finger was only half a second later. Her tongue didn’t just lick Ember’s fingertip, but brushed along her entire finger.
Applejack’s mouth wasn’t the mouth of a taste-tester. At least, not the intended taste.
“Enjoying yourself, huh?” Ember purred, sliding her hand back a bit. “I can get you more.”
Applejack’s hoof smushed into Ember’s massive, soft breast as she pulled back. “Y-yeah...please. Please, I…”
“You’ve had this on your mind for a while, haven’t you?” Ember interrupted, fingers sliding down and giving her free nipple another steady, forceful tug. This time, dragon’s milk splashed over her entire hand, until her scales glistened and dribbles of nectar ran down her fingers. She raised her hand again, ready to part her fingers and give Applejack her pick of the litter.
She wasn’t expecting Applejack to pick “all of the above,” though. She wasn’t expecting Applejack to crane over, mouth spreading wide, and taking half of Ember’s hand into her mouth all at once. She wasn’t expecting Applejack’s mouth to flit almost delicately over her digits, drinking deeply from Ember’s offering as her mouth slid forward and backward, forward and backward, bobbing suggestively as she suckled.
“I should have talked to you sooner,” Ember whispered. “I had no idea you wanted this so much.”
Applejack paused, before her mouth slid off of Ember’s fingers again. Her body shook as she stared Ember directly in the eyes.
“You ain’t...you ain’t got no idea how much I wanted it.” Trepidation and desire colored Applejack’s face and voice in equal measure. “Ain’t got no idea how much I wanted this. Ain’t got no idea how much I wanted you. How much I figured this wouldn’t…”
“Show me.” Ember smiled gently. “Show me how much. I’m okay with it.”
Applejack took a deep breath. Bit her lip. Opened her mouth, then shut it again.
Then with methodical, practiced grace, Applejack pushed herself up onto her hind legs and leaned forward. One forehoof — the one that wasn’t cupped around Ember’s bust — steadied itself against the back of Ember’s chair as her hindleg pressed down just above the chair’s lip, until she was almost draped over Ember. Up close, Ember could see every strand of Applejack’s disheveled mane. Every involuntary twitch of her lips.
This close, Ember could see the unfocused, unbridled emotion in Applejack’s irises, like fireworks going off inches from Ember’s eyelids.
Then Applejack’s mouth wrapped around her muzzle. The earth pony’s tongue darted out again, brushing over Ember’s tongue before the dragon had a chance to react. Applejack lifted her other forehoof off of Ember’s breast and wrapped it around the other side of Ember’s backrest as she leaned in closer. Applejack’s tongue was almost a creature in and of itself: Hungry for sensation, demonstrative in its passion, ruthless in its invasion, running itself over teeth and tongue and the wet, fleshy cavern of Ember’s maw in equal measure. It was a practiced kiss, though not too practiced: the kiss of somecreature who had thought about kissing for ages, studied and learned in their own imaginative fashion and who had likely never kissed at all.
Ember reached up and wrapped her claws around Applejack’s shoulders. The dragon’s tongue went on the counteroffensive, brushing over Applejack’s tongue lightly before probing the corners of her mouth. Another loud moan told Ember that it was not an unwelcome advance, and she pushed in deeper and deeper still, jaws locking around Applejack’s muzzle like iron links as both their tongues darted and danced, brushing and wrestling with each other in an improvised ballet, and what might have been a dragon-like battle for dominance yielded readily to a pony-like fusing of intimacy.
Applejack moaned loudly, then louder still. A faint scent trickled up to Ember’s nostrils, and she broke the kiss, pulling away just far enough to speak.
“Do you want it?” Ember said, sliding her claw back from around Applejack’s shoulder to stroke her cheek.
Applejack nodded her head. “Yes.”
Ember’s claw slid off of Applejack’s cheek, tracing a slow line over her clavicle, down to Applejack’s chest.
“Yes” Applejack whispered, a bit louder.
Ember’s claw slid over and down, until it rested just above Applejack’s thigh.
“Yes.” Applejack drew in a ragged breath. “Yes. Please.”
The claw slid down Applejack’s thigh, curving between her legs.
“Yes.” Applejack squeezed her eyelids shut, body tensed like a coiled spring.
Ember’s finger slid delicately over the rim of Applejack’s sex.
Applejack moaned loudly as her body spasmed. Her grip on the back of Ember’s chair tightened, as if she was in danger of falling off. Given how her hind legs trembled, though, it wasn’t an unreasonable hypothesis, and Applejack was clearly preoccupied enough to not be able to think coherently about the possibility.
Clearly, all Applejack could think about was pleasure. There was, of course, her anxious, desperate smile to indicate that fact, or the fact that her steady breaths from no more than a minute ago had changed to the rapid, shaky huffs of the truly tantalized.
More telling than either of those, though, was the slickness on Ember’s fingers as she ran her finger over Applejack’s hind lips once more.
“Yesssssss.” Applejack whimpered, tail swishing madly, and Ember resisted the urge to pull her hand away and see exactly how excited Applejack was. Instead, Ember pushed a little harder, letting her finger sink ever-so-slightly between Applejack’s crevice.
Applejack mumbled incoherently. Ember let the tip of her talon poke inside Applejack, and Applejack’s body tensed harder than before. “Ember, please... !”
Ember nodded and pushed her finger inside Applejack’s pussy. “Keep showing me, Applejack. Show me how much you want it.”
Applejack’s body buckled, nearly collapsing on top of Ember’s chest as the dragon kept pushing.
Ember squeezed her finger deeper into Applejack’s tight, hot, sodden pussy. “Show me how much you need it, Applejack.”
By the time Ember was knuckle-deep, Applejack had turned from a pony into a whimpering, dribbling mess.
“Show me how badly you want my massive breasts in your face as I fuck you.”
By the time Ember had sunk her finger up to the hilt, Applejack’s pussy drooled like a hungry beast, desperate for more.
Ember dragged her middle finger along the rim of Applejack’s nether lips. “Another?”
“Hffff. Hffff. Yyyyyhhh. Yeh. Hfff. Hffff. E-emmmmm…”
Ember pulled her index finger back, pressed her middle finger against it and pushed.
Shrieking, Applejack climaxed. Her body half-buckled once more as her pussy practically gushed, spurting again and again as rivulets of juice ran over Ember’s claw and down her thighs until it pooled onto the kitchen floor. Applejack’s mouth worked wordlessly as she spasmed, jumbled thoughts devoured in her orgasmic throes.
It was ungainly. Unbecoming. Certainly not pretty, in any case. But whether it was Applejack’s pronounced scent, her coital stupor or something else entirely, there was something about Applejack’s passion that made Ember feel odd between her legs.
Pleasantly odd.
As Applejack shivered, output tapering off slightly as her eyelids fluttered open again, Ember realized that there was a slickness beneath her cyan scales. Her mind drifted towards thoughts of the two of them, tangled amidst a set of sheets sodden with dragon milk and orgasmic juices, locked in carnal intimacy.
“Ember?”
“Guh?” Ember snapped out of her tranced as she stared up at Applejack. The earth pony’s face was flushed, bangs disheveled, eyes wide and focusing blurrily down at Ember’s face.
“I didn’t...I didn’t mean…” Applejack stammered. “I-I’m…”
“Fine. You’re fine.” Ember cracked a small grin. “I haven’t seen anyone get that worked up in such a small period of time.”
“But I…”
“It’s kind of hot. Seriously.” Ember’s grin broadened. “A little short, but hey. If you needed it, then…”
Applejack fell silent. Ember looked down between Applejack’s legs again and shivered.
“I…” Applejack faltered. “I can make it up t’you. I promise.”
“Really, huh?” Ember looked back up at the panting, unkempt Applejack.
Applejack, with a tongue long and flexible enough to reach deep inside small openings.
Applejack, with a snout at a nearly perfect curvature to wedge itself between Ember’s thighs.
Applejack, who had gone into a kiss with gusto, showing that much intensity as she went…
“I-I can.” Applejack panted. “I, I...I mean…”
“...You know what? Yeah. Yeah, I can think of something you can help with.” An unbidden blush started to bloom on Ember’s cheeks as she fumbled with the pump at her breast, shutting it off and detaching it in record time. “But it’s probably something we shouldn’t tackle in the kitchen.”
“I...I ain’t sure I’m following, sugarcube.” Applejack shivered, and a few more strands of hair fell in front of her eyes. “What d-did you want to do, an’...an’ where?”
*********************************************
“I-I can’t believe I’m doin’ this.” Applejack whimpered, lying back-first on her bed. Ember loomed over her legs, immense dragon breasts hovering less than a foot above Applejack’s inner thighs, giving the earth pony a perfect view of her engorged, silky-smooth bust.
“Why? Do you not want this?” Ember looked over at Applejack, flashing her a toothy grin.
“I do, sugarcube, I do. I just ain’t never figured...never in my wildest dreams, th-that…”
Ember bent down a little deeper. “So what you’re saying is that you’d never imagined I’d go even further down, huh?”
Applejack gasped. “I…! Ember, I, I, wh-what are you…?”
“You never thought you’d get to see my humongous tits bounce freely in the breeze as I straddled you? Or did you never think I’d kneel in front of you and take it to the next level?”
Ember put her hands on the bed around Applejack’s sides and lowered herself down, inch by inch, until her massive breasts grazed against Applejack’s nubs. Applejack groaned even louder as Ember pressed her melons up against Applejack’s crotch and began to gyrate, and Applejack’s hind legs spasmed and twitched as she watched Ember’s huge, silken orbs squeeze and slosh just above Applejack’s sex.
“Ain’t...Oh, Stars n’ Garters…” Applejack whimpered. “Ain’t...ain’t f-figured you wouldn’t want me to hhhhhhhfff...oh, Ember...to...t’help you f-first. I figured…”
Applejack moaned as she watched Ember’s bust slosh and wobble, pressing smoothly and cleanly around Applejack’s pussy, kneading and working over Applejack’s privates as she squirmed in delight.
“We’ll get there.” Ember took a breath, drinking in Applejack’s scent, feeling the tension in Applejack’s lithe skin as it squeezed up against Ember’s bust. “I’m not the one with a lifetime of pent-up attraction, though. Just focus on feeling this, first. Feel all this pressure squeezed up against you from these big, round, bountiful tits…”
Ember reached up and fondled one of her breasts, outright pressing it up against Applejack’s gaping legs. Applejack moaned, and Ember pushed a little harder, filling in the space between Applejack’s legs with her soft, supple flesh.
“C-can’t...can’t hardly think…” Applejack moaned, wriggling in agitation on the bed. Not that it helped to relieve the tension at all; if anything, Applejack’s unintentional grinding against Ember’s soft, silky tits made the electric tingle between her hind legs even worse.
“Then stop thinking. Just enjoy yourself.” Ember purred, pulling away from Applejack and using her hand to carefully angle her breast. When she leaned back in again, it was with her nipple jutting forwards. “Indulge. Let yourself want it.”
When Ember ground her breasts back between Applejack’s hindlegs again, it was with her nipple first brushing, then poking into Applejack’s hind lips.Applejack squealed, body tensing as her hips twitched in a distinct and indicative manner.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Ember cooed. “Here, let me help you with this, too.”
Breast still smushed against Applejack’s groin, Ember wormed a finger under her immense melon, inch by inch, until it pressed up against Applejack’s lips. Applejack spasmed, moaning loudly as nipple and fingertip worked in tandem to caress and tickle every last inch of her rim.
Then, with a smirk, Ember pushed her finger in.
Applejack gasped, and Ember went deeper. Squeezing past her nipple, Ember’s finger plunged deeper and deeper inside Applejack’s passage, wriggling its way through warm, wet tissue without hesitation or trepidation. Applejack’s gasp gave way to soft, desperate little whimpers as Ember plunged inward, wriggling around to see if there were any particularly sensitive parts of Applejack’s inner walls.
If Applejack’s sudden, delighted shriek was any indication, there was at least one.
Ember giggled. “Fertile, aren’t you? You’ve got a receptive enough body, anyway.” Carefully, Ember rubbed her finger over that spot again and shifted her weight ever so slightly — just enough to give her breasts another wobble, giving Applejack a direct view of their swollen, tender globes swaying by her sensitive spots.
“N-Nuhhhh…” Applejack moaned. “Nnnn...not like...hfff...you…”
“Really? I think you’d be almost as big as me.” Ember went back to work - probing, touching, letting her finger squeeze up against every inch it could reach. “Applejack the dragon, whose orange jugs were so massive that she could hardly see her own feet. Jutting out like twin melons from her smooth, scaly body, nipples perked up and sensitive to even the slightest breeze.”
Applejack’s hind legs spasmed uncontrollably as Ember’s talon wriggled over every last inch of her inner walls.“It ain’t...oh, Ember...i-it still wouldn’t be...nnnh...like you…”
“Doesn’t need to be. Applejack the drake would still have more than a few suitors of her own - dragons, ponies, the works. All of them wanting to praise her, flatter her, get her to notice them.” Ember lowered her body a bit and squished her enormous breasts between Applejack’s thighs. “Feel her breasts smush against them.”
“E-Ember,” Applejack croaked out. “E...Ember. I.”
“You’d be fantastic. Think about it. Getting done with...farmpony stuff, or whatever, and leaning back against a boulder, or a barn, or what have you, big mug of water in your claws. Imagine taking a huge drink, big enough that some ends up dribbling down your breasts in little rivulets, making your massive bust practically gleam in the sunlight. Maybe your jugs would be big enough that you could squeeze your mug between ‘em and — ”
Applejack squealed, entire body seizing up as the scent of her lust filled the air. She was close to the edge of orgasm. Very close. Clearly, Ember couldn’t drag things out forever.
Nor did she want to. But she might as well make the climax as satisfying as possible.
“You really would be a wonderful dragon” Ember added, lowering her voice a few notches. “Even beyond the beauty, it’d be nice to have somedragon else to talk about dragon things with. I can definitely think of other ponies who’d make for worse dragons. Lots of them.”
“I…”
“You would. Trust me. It’d be cool to hang out with you.” Ember withdrew her probing finger and rose up into a kneeling position. With a satisfied sigh, Ember stretched her back, thrusting her generous chest out into the air as if highlighting her immense mammaries.
“I mean…” Applejack mumbled, dazedly. “You’re...perfect. In that way, I mean, jes’...jes’ perfect.”
“Nah. I can get better.” Ember leaned down again, nestled her bust between Applejack’s legs and wriggled her finger inside of Applejack’s sex once more.
Applejack inhaled sharply. Her eyelids squeezed shut, then opened wide again as Applejack stared down. Her hindlegs twitched once, twice, three times as Ember worked.
“Feel the torrent inside you, Applejack.” Ember slipped a finger inside Applejack. “Feel that desire, that passion. Embrace the inferno building inside yourself.”
Then Ember slipped another finger in.
“Embrace, then exhale. Let the fire come out of you, Applejack.”
Applejack whimpered as Ember pressed one last finger to the side of her other two, less than a half-inch away from Applejack’s sopping wet pussy.
“Let it all out,” Ember said as she stuffed her third finger deep inside Applejack.
And Applejack did.
Howling, Applejack’s entire lower body spasmed and twitched as she came again and again, her warm juices spurting out onto crumpled blankets and Ember’s scales in nearly equal measure. With a sigh of relief, Ember pulled back and watched as Applejack orgasmed over and over, waiting until the pony’s shrieks had subsided into moans, then trickled down to a satisfied post-orgasmic sigh.
“...You know, If you told me you were a virgin, I’d honestly believe it.” Ember pulled herself up a little and stroked Applejack’s chest. “That isn’t an insult, by the way.”
“How d’you figure…” Applejack coughed. “How d’you figure it ain’t?”
“I ‘figure’ because it means you care. And I mean, there’s caring about sex, and then there’s that all-consuming, I-can’t-believe-this-is-really-happening caring. Trust me, it’s the sort of thing that I haven’t seen in a long time. Haven’t felt in a long time, either.”
Ember paused, staring down at Applejack with a faintly rosy tinge on her cheeks.
“I like being able to make you feel this way. It’s nice.”
A faint smile trickled on to Applejack’s face. This time, though, it wasn’t colored by desire or twisted with arousal; it was the genuine article, the pinnacle of truth, one hundred percent satisfaction through unadulterated companionship.
“You’re…” Applejack sniffed. “You’re dang good at it, y’know.”
“What, sex? Look, that’s part of my job. Rarity has to keep me aroused so — ”
“Not that.” Applejack shook her head. “Makin’ me feel like...feel like this is something that could happen. That I weren’t awful.”
Ember cupped Applejack’s cheek. “You aren’t.”
“Easy for you to say. You ain’t had to live thinkin’ something like that for years an’ years.”
Ember’s tail swished behind her. “See, that’s the thing. I think I sort of already have.”
Applejack tilted her head up. “Huh?”
“Getting...fertile-figured, I guess...it isn’t something dragons really like. I mean, you know, there are the obligatory we-should-do-it comments, but most of the time everydragon just looks at you like you’re disgusting, what you’re going through is disgusting and it’s for the best if you get it over and done with as quick as possible. Even if you actually, y’know, have hatchlings to take care of at the time. And if you don’t, and you aren’t planning on getting fertilized, it’s...yeah.”
“I thought you weren’t comfortable with lookin’ how you did just ‘cause it was a business thing where Rarity did most of the work, an’ all that.” Applejack frowned. “That ain’t fair at all.”
“You think dragons actually care about ‘fair?’ Besides, it’s weird walking around with a deformed body, even if other dragons think it’s hot. Or ponies, or whatever.” Ember scratched her thigh. “Feeling like I can do something that ponies like is nice, but it doesn’t mean that my body doesn’t look freakish anymore. And I know that I need to just accept that and move on, but…”
“...But it’s hard. I getcha.”
Silence fell.
Abruptly, Applejack chuckled. “We’re an odd couple, ain’t we?”
“Huh?”
“I got boots, y’know? Like we were talkin’ about earlier. And you got, y’know...boobs.” Applejack pointed up at Ember’s chest. “I’m supposed t’be proud with how I wear mine, an’ you’re supposed to be happy with how you wear yours. But at the end of the day, it kind of just sucks, don’t it?”
“Yep.” Ember cracked a wry grin. “It almost entirely sucks.”
“What’cha mean by ‘almost entirely?’ You sayin’ there’s somethin’ you like about your — ”
“Not really, no.” Ember’s grin grew a little wider. “But it’s nice being able to talk to ponies who feel the same way. I don’t regret that. And I don’t regret meeting you.”
Applejack giggled, rosy-cheeked, looking a little calmer than she had for the past fifteen minutes. “I don’t regret meetin’ you, either. At least, I don’t regret it here and now.”
Ember clasped a claw around Applejack’s pointed forehoof. “I won’t tell.”
“The truth don’t care who does or who don’t tell. It’ll come out eventually.” Applejack sighed. “But I don’t reckon I can be mad at you for it anymore.”
Applejack’s body went slack, gently tugging Ember’s arm down. The rest of Ember followed as the dragon let herself spraw onto the bed next to Applejack, arm and foreleg linked together, slick scales and matted fur and sodden bedsheets tangled up in an intimate milieu.
“I don’t want to be mad about anything anymore,” Applejack concluded. “I jes’ want...I want to feel like I do right now. Like this. With you.”
Ember grinned. It wasn’t just a curling of her lips, though; the grin came almost unbidden, seeping up through her scales from deep down inside her. Even beyond the post-sex recuperation, Ember felt relaxed and at ease. Even discounting the intercourse, Ember felt warm and full of sunlight.
Even though she hadn’t finished pumping the milk out of her breasts, Ember felt satisfied. The work could always come later, but this afternoon — this meeting, this coitus, this conversation — was irreplaceable.
Ember didn’t hate machines. She just knew they couldn’t give her what she really needed.
Only ponies could do that.
