Reserve Stock: Growing Competition

It is at this point that we arrive at the story proper, and focus on that story’s protagonist, Applejack.

She was in a difficult position, with this whole dragon business. It had recently come to light that Applejack was gay, and that she had a fetishes for dragons, large breasts, and lactation. Specifically, these facts came to light when Applejack laid eyes upon Ember, a large-breasted lesbian-inclined dragon in the middle of her nursing cycle.

All of which is to say, Applejack burned up. She boiled. She blushed so bright ponies thought she was ill. The heat between her legs made the air ripple over her tail. She learned some things about herself that day she was not entirely prepared to know.

One must understand her position. If Sunset Shimmer wanted to work off some frustration, she could open her laptop, search for Dragons + Huge Tits + Milk + Remarkably Specific Fetish, and within minutes have discovered fifty webpages and a subreddit. But Applejack did not have this convenience.

The thing she was most sexually attracted to in the world—the specific combination of traits that set her loins afire—had only one incarnation. It was Ember or nothing.

That was difficult, when Ember wouldn’t give her the time of day. It became more difficult after she and Ember became an item.

Applejack was having some trouble focusing.

“Blah blah blah,” Rarity was saying, as the three of them sat together in her boutique. “Blah blah copyright infringement blah blah lawsuit blah blah brand identity.” She was laying out her plan to deal with this upstart, and crush the pony or dragon who dared to nose in on their business.

“Ugh. Why does this have to be so complicated?” Ember demanded. “I’m the dragon lord. Let’s just find this ‘Fuze’ character, tell her to back off, and if she doesn’t I’ll beat her to a pulp.”

Ember smacked one fist into the other to emphasize her words. The sharp motion made her chest sway. It made her bounce. And a moment later, a single bead of sweat rolled down Applejack’s face.

“Blah blah,” Rarity replied, “blah blah shell company blah blah pony blah blah blah private investigator.”

The logic behind what Applejack saw was simple. Like most creatures that produce fluid for their young, dragons did so in proportion to the perceived demand. If Ember never expressed milk, her mating season would produce two small bumps on her chest, which would pass after a few weeks. If she nursed a young dragon, they would swell, and produce more fluid to compensate.
As a result of Rarity’s little scheme, Ember’s breasts had been drained dry several times a day, every day, for the past half year. What had started the size of mosquito bites had swollen to the size of an apple, then to the size of a loaf of bread.

It didn’t stop there. Rarity had made sure of that. “We’re selling out, darling,” she had explained so long ago. “We need to increase production.”

Which she did, with diet and special training, and where need be, with magic. Until Ember’s breasts swelled to the size of melons. Until they were fuller and plumper on her chest than any natural fixture, an extreme and overflowing symbol of femininity.

And they were full. Applejack could see how uncomfortably she sat, how her teats bulged, how her breasts were swollen and full. Applejack’s mouth had gone dry, but slowly, she licked her lips.

“Blah blah favorable judge,” Rarity was saying, “blah blah state monopoly blah blah Applejack.”

At the mention of her name, Applejack’s head shot up, so quick it was like she’d been slapped. Her eyes shrunk to points, and she stammered for words, finally managing: “Uh… yeah.”

“Ugh.” Rarity rolled her eyes. “Have you even heard a word I’m saying?”

“Doubt it.” Ember grinned. “See something you like?” With both hands, she reached up and cupped each of her breasts, giving each a gentle squeeze. She had to be gentle. Full as she was, Applejack could see that even that small motion caused her discomfort.

“Yer uh…” Applejack fiddled with her hat, nakedly struggling for words. “You need a good milking, Ember. Past time.”

“After we’re done with this, please?” Rarity let out a curt sigh. “We do need to win this battle if we don’t want to be inundated with copycats.”

“You can talk about boring legal stuff later.” Ember stretched out her back, pushing out her chest. “I want to be milked now.”

“Really?” Rarity’s look could wither plants.

“Don’t you give me that look. We had a deal.” Ember again hefted her breasts with her claws. “These things are what keep us in business, remember? When I want attention I get attention. So get over here, Applejack.”

Applejack moved so fast it was like she teleported. One second she was in her chair, the next she was at Ember’s side. She rested a hoof on Ember’s leg and said: “Uh… happy to oblige.” Her body was so stiff her foreleg trembled, and her breath came in short, quick motions. “Let’s go upstairs?”

“No. Here is good.” Ember considered her position for a moment. “I don’t feel like the milking machine.”

“Um…” Applejack froze for half a second, her body still as a statue. Then she stumbled out: “I can get a bucket.”

“Absolutely not.” Rarity snorted. “You’d spoil the product. I can milk her directly into the glass bottles. An advantage of unicorn magic.”

“Yeah,” Ember agreed. “Rarity can do the actual milking. I want you between my legs, farmpony.”

Once again, Applejack froze, but it lasted more than half a second. Her head jerked between Ember and Rarity, mechanically moving between one and the other. Then she stammered: “I can’t.”

Ember reached down underneath Applejack. She ran a talon along Applejack’s belly, and when she shuddered, brought the tip of that talon all the way down to her inner thigh. She played with it there, brushing Applejack’s slit, until it produced the moan and shiver she was expecting.

“I think you can manage,” Ember chuckled.

“But…” Applejack didn’t understand why Rarity was giggling. Her manner was already drunk, as her gaze staggered around the room. “Your tits. I like your tits. I want to milk you.”

“You can milk me a little,” Ember agreed. “Just because I like you. But Rarity has to do most of it. Got it?”

Then she hefted a single massive breast, and pressed her nipples towards Applejack. AJ wrapped her lips around what was offered, and took one long draw of high-proof Dragon’s Milk. The day’s batch was rich, with a smell like oak.

It took a few sips before she stopped worrying. Before she was so drunk that she didn’t care that Rarity was right there alongside her, nuzzled into this dragon’s teats. Before she didn’t care that somepony was watching her press her head between Ember’s legs. She lost herself in the moment.

“It’s my turn ya’ great plump cow,” she said, laughing all the while. Ember scratched her with her claws for daring to use such a term. She didn’t care, and pushed her hindquarters up to Ember’s face anyway.

“Nope nope! Mine,” she said, as she and Rarity held Ember down, managing less to suckle off her teats and more to kiss the general area.

And then, when Rarity and Ember got annoyed with her, they held her down and she got to feel what it was like to be pleasured with a unicorn’s horn. It felt good, even if she didn’t feel that way about Rarity.

Then she threw up, passed out, and Rarity held her mane over the toilet. Dragon’s Milk was a very strong liquor, after all.

The next morning, she woke up in Rarity’s bed. Rarity was to her left and Ember was to her right. Both were fast asleep, but Applejack could see that it was already past nine. She could also see that Ember needed to be milked. They’d let her go unattended all night.

“Ember,” AJ nudged her. “Ember, get up.”

There was none of the fanfare of last night. The three of them woke up, hooked Ember to the milking machine, and watched her groan in relief as the pressure in her teats abated.

“The lawyers will be here soon,” Rarity said as they waited for the machine to finish. “Possibly with their clients. We should be ready to meet this ‘Fuze’ today.”

“Sure. Sure,” Applejack agreed. But after a moment, she added: “What kind of relationship are we in?”

“Why, we’re friends,” Rarity said, a soft smile appearing on her face. “Why do you ask?”

Applejack turned to look at Ember, letting the silence speak for itself. After a moment, Ember shrugged. “I don’t like putting labels on things.”

Neither answer helped her much.

“Well then,” Applejack finally said. “Pass me one of those bottles, would you? I got a screaming headache. Need a hair of the dog that bit me.”

She took a small sip, then hesitantly looked at Ember. She didn’t smile. Not quite. “You taste good.”