Author's Note

Hi there! If you're one of the two people still here, I hope you enjoy the story.

Taking a Tour

Almond trotted forwards with an awkward three-legged gait, holding the Milcowkey Times newspaper she'd just picked up from the inn using her free hoof. A new city meant new opportunities, and she'd skipped straight to the want ads section. Ignoring the refreshing spring weather alighting upon the trail, which cut through vast fields of alfalfa and oats, as well as those few other creatures out and about beyond the proper city limits, Almond kept reading.

Nothing she'd tried in Coltcago, from dry cleaning to firefighting, had resonated with her, and Almond was beginning to lose hope she'd ever find her destiny. Her fit, cinnamon-colored flanks still lacked a mark despite her age. While she hadn't finished reading the paper in full yet, one particular notice stuck out to her. Some place called the Milk Factory was requesting additional ponies to sign on. Almond didn't know too much about how he modern dairy industry worked, only how it once did when she was a foal, so she'd be going in blind. Still, she was optimistic, and even if it didn't pan out, she'd still be able to make enough bits to travel to the next town over and repeat the process.

Nodding to herself, the wind ruffling Almond's simply styled dark brown mane and tail, she folded up the paper, shoved it into her saddlebags, and redoubled her pace.

It wasn't long before she reached the city proper. Conveniently, the Milk Factory was right on the southwestern edge of Milcowkey, an enormous multi-story grey brick of a compound with high windows, its wide expanse built for function over form. It dwarfed the other warehouses and granaries in the area. As she approached, a team of other earth ponies waved to her as they hauled large carts piled high with crates of milk cartons out of a loading dock and down the main road, likely to a train station. Promising, but not exciting. Almond had worked in freight before, not her thing.

Somewhat exhausted from the journey as well as emotionally, Almond approached the doors only to halt when she read the sign: Maintenance Entrance. Right. Sighing and shaking her head with a smile, she began to circumnavigate the factory. After passing some other doors, also incorrect, she rounded the corner. There was the main entrance, complete with glass doors opening into an inviting lobby.

A bell chimed as Almond entered, alerting the black and white cow behind the secretary's desk. Older ponies might have reacted negatively, seeing her there, but Almond didn't have that prejudice. Their status as second-class citizens, maintained over centuries of willful ignorance, had been overturned. Now, cows had all the same rights as any other speaking creature. At the moment, the rest of the lobby was empty, its chairs unoccupied.

Looking up from her work, the secretary smiled at Almond. "Oh, hello there, welcome to the Milk Factory, supplying Equestria with creamy goodness! My name is Meg, how can I help you?"

"Hi Meg, I'm Almond, nice to meet you. I'm here about the want ad."

"Oh, fantastic, we could always use more hooves!" Meg cheerfully exclaimed. "In addition to bookkeeping, I also give facility tours and answer questions. Would you like one? If you're busy, you can just take a pamphlet instead," she added, pointing to a rack of them on the wall.

"A tour would be great," Almond said. "I actually have no idea how things work nowadays, dairy-wise."

"Well, allow me to elucidate you," Meg said, giggling. "That was yesterday's word from my word-a-day calendar," she added in a stage-whisper.

Meg ushered Almond through a set of double doors that opened into a vast, high-ceilinged processing area. Ponies in full-body sanitary suits and hairnets briefly looked up from their various tasks to wave at them. Besides the concrete walls and floor, everything in the room was stainless steel, all manner of machines.

"This is the processing floor, where all the fresh milk is pasteurized and distributed," Meg explained. "Starting at the tanks, where the milk is pumped after collection."

Almond followed the line of Meg's hoof as she pointed. There were dozens of the great cylinders, as wide around as a pony and three times as tall. Glass panels allowed her to see which ones had milk and how much there was.

Before Almond could get a word in edgewise, Meg continued. "From there, some goes straight to packaging as whole milk, while the rest is separated, leading to butter and cream!" Here, she gestured machines that hummed with motion as they spun or churned under careful watch. "Unfortunately we don't have the space to make our own cheese here, as there are so many different varieties that need to be stored for long periods. There's a similar situation with yogurt."

"Umm," Almond finally managed to interject. "Your presentation is great and all, really, very informative, but this part isn't really what I was wondering about."

At this, Meg turned and shot her a knowing look. "Ah, you're wondering who is actually getting milked."

Almond nodded. "Pretty much, yeah. I was even surprised to see you here at all, to be honest. I thought most cows wanted nothing to do with the dairy industry after the Uprising."

"That's true," Meg confirmed. "Some cows chose to stay on farms, but they're the minority. I don't have any children, or get milked myself. But by being part of the factory staff, I can ensure the mistakes of the past aren't repeated," she said. Her somewhat solemn expression gave way to a smirk. "Also, I get that little thrill of being one of the creatures in charge."

Almond smiled back. Most bosses she'd had weren't that bad, but she knew the feeling. "Ah, fair enough. Still, my question...?"

"Of course, this way."

Meg ushered her through the next open passage with a bit of dramatics. "This is where the magic happens with our pony livestock: the milking floor!"

There was a lot to take in here, as this room was three stories high, all of them visible thanks to the upper two being entirely made from sturdy steel mesh, almost like catwalks, supported by pillars. But the first things she noticed were the mares. Almond stiffened in shock. "Holy haystacks, what happened to them!?"

For the most part, the mares hanging out on the upper floors were identical to the average pony, save for two very major differences. The first being their positively enormous teats. They hung pendulously plump through large slots in the mesh, varying in size from mare to mare, but all were at least the size of beach balls with nipples to match, at minimum, with many passing the yoga ball range. Each one made Meg's udder look like Almond's own teenage washboard. If she stretched a hoof up, she could probably touch their nipples.

The second difference, equally surprising, was that none of them had legs. They'd all been cut off and replaced with metal caps, which were held in place by some kind of twist-on fasteners that locked the mares into place from underneath. Why was that even necessary?

Meg blinked at her. "Oh, did you not see any of our livestock out and about in the city? That would explain a few things."

"I just got here!" Almond huffed. "What, does nopony ever use the back roads?"

Clearing her throat, Meg resumed her tour. "In any case, as you can see, our livestock are all mares who have undergone modification. It's all entirely voluntary, unlike the old days, though the changes are permanent. Once the growth potion regimen is complete and fully set in, an average mare can produce as much milk as ten cows!"

Almond was no longer even looking at Meg, her mind still reeling from the tableau of teats above, but she was still listening. "Okay, back up. This is more than a little 'modification'. They can't move and are more boob than pony!" she exclaimed, waving a hoof upwards. Seriously, this was almost beyond belief, and she'd met Discord once.

Suddenly, a voice from overhead spoke up. "If I may? I'd be happy to answer your questions too, sweetie. Straight from the horse's mouth," they added, giggling.

It was one of the livestock mares, a pink pegasus with a red mane. Almond at last managed to school her focus, studying the mare. She certainly seemed fine, all smiles as she looked down at them. Glass cups had been suctioned onto her nipples, and she was yielding a steady, substantial flow of milk through the attached hoses that led through the wall into the previous room.

Almond stared. "Oh, okay. Hi? I'm Almond. I didn't, like, offend you, did I?"

"Not at all. I know it can be a bit much to take in," she reassured her. "Anyway, I'm Red String, or Ms. String. Always a treat to see new faces!" After a beat, she added "So, you were saying?"

Right, the crazy huge-teats-no-legs deal. She was acting so... normal, in spite of it all. Regathering herself, Almond indulged her curiosity. "Right. First off, why did you let your legs get amputated?"

At this, Ms. String wingshrugged. "It's not like I could walk anymore once my jublies got this heavy and massive, but I can still fly to get around and hold things in my mouth. Originally it wasn't part of the process to becoming livestock, it was implemented shortly before I signed on. Meg?"

Still standing next to Almond, Meg nodded and elaborated. "The visionary mind behind the factory, Luster Dawn, proposed the quadruple-amputation measure to help maximize milk production. It means fewer nutrients are needed to maintain their bodies, and more can end up being used for lactation. It's a boost in efficiency of about 15%."

Almond supposed that made a weird sort of sense. Fewer ponies would need to be milked if the ones the factory had could make more. "There have to be better ways to do that, though, right? Maybe better food, and more of it?"

"Luster Dawn already thought of that!" went Ms. String. "So long as we're hooked up, a special energy solution gets pumped directly into our bloodstreams through where our legs used to be. I don't get hungry at all when I'm here, and my milk just doesn't stop."

Case in point, her productivity had not lessened at all as Almond had been talking with her. Her brow creased in thought. "I guess that energy solution must get made in a room you haven't shown me yet, Meg. How long do you have to stay in position up there?" she asked Ms. String.

It was Meg who answered this time. "A livestock mare can spend as much time at the milking station as she wants, though 30 hours a week is the minimum. And unlike the slavery my people experienced, it's paid. The bits they earn per hour as livestock aren't much, but they get the nutrient-dense energy solution, so many ponies tell me they spend half as much on food. Plus, it's a very relaxing job. Many of our girls spend the whole time gossiping!"

"It's so easy, it's almost like I'm not even working!" Ms. String confirmed. "The factory even has an in-house stylist who will do your mane and tail, plus a bunch of maintenance ponies who will give you a shower and scrub if you ask! Not to mention I can still run my matchmaking business to fulfill my special talent on top of this."

Hmm. When she put it like that, it actually sounded like a pretty good deal. If there was one thing she'd learned about working as a blank flank, it's that it was exhausting, physically and mentally. Getting to laze about like a foal without a care, no responsibilities other than just hanging there and converting nutrients into milk... something about that appealed to her.

Still, Almond couldn't actually sign up as livestock, she didn't have wings! "Well, that arrangement must be kinda nice if you're a pegasus, but..." Almond trailed off, eyes widening as they roved over the other mares above. While most were pegasi, and none earth ponies, for obvious reasons, a good third were actually unicorns. "Wait, how do the unicorns get in and out?"

"Ask Candlewax," said Ms. String, turning to her left. There, past an empty stall, was an off-white unicorn mare, her mane atypically long and teats even larger than Red String's, also being milked by pumps. "Candle?"

As Almond faced her, Candlewax looked a bit sheepish. "Sorry, I admit I was eavesdropping. But to clarify, unicorns get a sturdy steel cart with the same hookups as these milking stalls, and maintenance helps us in and out. If I'm in one I can just roll myself along by grabbing at the ground with my horn. My magic has gotten pretty strong from the exercise, in fact."

"Thanks!" Ms. String said cheerfully, turning back to Almond. "I hope all this is helping you understand. Lots of creatures new to Milcowkey react similarly."

"It does," Almond replied automatically as she processed all this new information, her tail swishing back and forth. They were certainly making a case for the factory's strategy now. "So what would I be doing if I started working here, Meg? Maintenance, like they mentioned?"

Meg's posture perked. "Either that or processing, depending on how what your best fit is. The facility, machines, and mares each require upkeep, oversight, and plain old labor at every step from solution compounding to shipping. We're a nonprofit, so we don't hesitate to bring on more hooves, even if you don't have prior experience in the dairy industry like many of our earth pony workers do."

Ms. String nodded twice. "So long as you're not a prude, Almond, you'll fit right it."

"I'm not," Almond confirmed. If anything, she was the opposite. A very healthy libido ran in her family; the fact she had six brothers attested to that. "But why would that matter?" she asked.

There was a long pause.

"You're not super observant, are you, dear?" went Meg, deadpan.

"Ah, good timing, look there," said Ms. String, gesturing to Candlewax with a wing. "It's Candle's regular."

As Almond shifted her gaze, Candlewax shifted in place, arching her back to look over her shoulder. "Hi, Blue Sky!"

A stallion was approaching her from behind. "How're you doing today?" he asked, the pair obviously familiar with eachother. However, the second indicator of such was far more eye-catching, especially from below. His cock was popped out of its sheath in arousal, thick and turgid and there.

Almond stuttered, staring.

"Fine, thank y—oh!" Candlewax's reply was cut off when Blue Sky suddenly mounted her without preamble! Locked in place, Candlewax couldn't resist unless she used her magic. But she didn't, instead moaning in pleasure as the stallion shuffled himself along her back until his length was fully hilted, vanishing into her private depths.

"There we are," Blue Sky uttered, before beginning to thrust, sending a symphony of lewd noises into Almond's ears.

"Wha— You just started fucking her!" Almond exclaimed. The sight was making her body start to heat up too. It had been far too long since she'd gotten a good rutting, over three days. And with her youthful switch flipped instantly like this, resisting the urge would be supremely difficult.

As Candlewax moaned and Meg rolled her eyes, Blue Sky just raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? She gave the green light, I'm here practically every day."

Almond reeled, struggling to keep her tail under control. Desperate for more clues, she scanned the upper floors again and, did, in fact, see other non-livestock ponies up there. She'd missed them completely until this point, uniformed or otherwise. Next to the mares, they didn't stand out.

She was totally observant, honest! But now that Almond had noticed, it was clear Candlewax wasn't the only mare being mounted. Two other mares on the third floor had stallions inside them, also having sex right in the open!

Biting her lip, Almond turned to face the others wordlessly for an explanation, as well as to stifle her own breathing. Celestia, she was already getting pretty wet just watching.

"The livestock mares are encouraged to have sex while being milked, as pleasure is another way to increase yields," Meg said, still amused by Almond's reaction. "It's free for the stallion, or other creature, male or female, so on that end there's no shortage of participants."

"If you were up here, you'd be able to see our name signs, Almond," went Ms. String. "They're color-coded, to indicate the level of consent we're giving. Mine is red, which means 'don't ask, off limits'. I'm married, you see. Yellow is normal, meaning stallions have to ask first and respect her wishes. Candlewax is green, which means she's preemptively giving consent to everybody, public-use style. Hence why Blue Sky just started immediately."

"I'm on - mmph - birth control, so no worries there," Candlewax managed to utter even as her companion kept rutting her, his hooves gripping her waist. "It feels fulfilling," she added, bubbly with ecstasy. "And it makes my teats go crazy."

Case in point: her output had redoubled, Candlewax's throbbing nipples shooting thick blasts of milk like faucets, white cream splashing all over the insides of the cups. With the force of Blue Sky's thrusting, they jiggled faintly beneath her.

Almond gulped. "N-Nobody minds? The whole city is cool with this?"

Ms. String chuckled. "Sweetie, creatures move here to use the livestock. And nopony sees us any different. If anything, I get treated like a guest of honor whenever I go somewhere more often than not. Ponies see becoming livestock as a sort of noble sacrifice for good, like joining the Royal Guard. That's why I signed up."

"Sometimes a mare's reasoning is more tragic, though," chimed in Blue Sky, even as he continued to slam into Candlewax's flanks. "Poor Candle here lost basically all of her business as electrical infrastructure got put in all over. She deserves to feel better after everything, I think, and if I can get my rocks off at the same time, it's a win-win! Isn't that right, girl?"

"Y-Yeah," Candlewax answered breathlessly as she squirmed in place. "Quit talking and pound me harder, I'm almost there!"

"Gladly," he intoned.

As the pair of them kept at it, reduced to moaning and grunting as flesh smacked flesh, Almond considered this whole public use policy. Just making yourself available to be ravished, to be used, whenever... Her face bloomed pink with a furious blush. Almond liked casual sex; lots of ponies did. And she'd considered prostitution as a path to take in hunting for her mark before, but had ultimately elected not to try. Despite all the progress made, there was still a stigma attached to sex work; ponies looked down on you.

Perhaps it was her ovaries talking, but once the equally stupid and tempting idea crossed her mind, Almond was actually considering becoming livestock. Shifting from side to side in racing thought, she really mulled it over. Yes, once she took the plunge, there would be no going back. However, everything else about it struck a chord with her. Being useful, getting tended to and ravished, gushing. How good did that feel? Maybe she could... try it out?

"H-Hey Meg?" Almond asked, forcing her beathing under control.

"Yes?" the cow said, pleasantly.

Almond gulped, limbs tense. "When exactly do livestock mares have their legs removed? Do they have a window to back out?"

As she processed this, Meg's brows rose in apprehension. "Not until their breasts reach a certain size. Miss Almond, don't tell me, are you implying what I think you are?"

Almond opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by Candlewax's cry of orgasm from above, and she needed to bite back a needy whine herself before answering. Celestia, she was dripping onto the floor now.

"Here it comes!" Blue Sky declared, cresting his own peak.

"Uh, uhm," Almond stuttered, before continuing. She was this close to just losing it and jilling herself off on the spot. "Yes. If if were to work here, I'd want to be livestock."

"That's a major decision to be making," Meg said, serious. "You'd lose your autonomy! Wouldn't you rather try something else first?"

"I have," Almond noted, lips pursed. "So many things. And I have yet to find my destiny," she said, gesturing to her blank flanks.

Ms. String's ears drooped in sympathy. "I noticed that, Almond, but I figured it was a sensitive subject for a mare your age and didn't bring it up."

"Thanks," Almond said, her gaze drifting back up to Candlewax. She had a supremely satisfied look on her face as Blue Sky pulled out, caressing her affectionately before waving goodbye and trotting off. "But yeah, it is aggravating. After everything I've done, I'm nearly at my wit's end. I'm just so tired of putting in effort to learn new skills, of working my body to the bone, just for the bits. This, though?" she posed, heart racing. "I've got a good feeling about it, in, er, more ways than one. And if it doesn't work out, I can just leave with some eye-catching assets for the colts."

"Well, if that's what your heart is telling you! If you do end up joining us, I'd be happy to have you as a coworker and friend," said Ms. String, beaming. Almond smiled back.

Meg's reaction to her explanation, however, was more reserved. "Being unmarked, you'll still need written permission from your legal guardians to sign on with the factory."

"Oh, that's no problem, see?" Almond said, reaching into her mane and pulling out a plastic card with her picture on it. "I have an adult worker's permit. My parents made sure to get me one before I left home. My family's financial situation is tight since I have so many siblings, so between that and me not being able to find my Mark in Appleloosa, it was best for everypony."

Meg peeked at the card, then hummed in approval. "Yep, that's a worker's permit all right. In that case, I can get you the forms to look over whenever you're ready! Again, this is a major decision to be making, so make sure to consider everything carefully."

Almond took another long, captivated look at the milking floor before her, all its ponies and pleasures. In that moment, she could clearly imagine herself there, blissfully lactating and fucking without a care in the world, used and pampered by the employees and the residents. Her physical and emotional desires harmoniously aligned. "Let's do it."