The Mareage Hotel.

A tall, T-shaped building, if seen from above, it took up an entire block by itself and the surrounding private greenspace. At night, through the fog, it glowed like a prism illuminated by Celestia herself, helping orient oneself in the city from the glow alone.

Fluttershy never felt like she could quite match the incandescent glamour that radiated from places like that. She didn’t bother, most days, dressing in a plain dress or her coat and hat. At the very least, it kept her inconspicuous as she slipped through reception, up elevators, and the guest rooms, then back down the service stairwell. It was the easiest way to get to the grand hall behind the hotel.

Fillydelphia wasn’t exactly renowned as being a glitzy place to live. It was an industrial centre and trade hub, home to a large dockyard with plenty of trains running through regularly. Most rich and famous were CEOs, business magnates, and vultures who flocked around their more illegitimate interests.

That still meant a lot of money flowed through the city, which meant the wealthy and well-to-do had to have someplace to party, to gather together like flies as they clinked glasses, ate food…

And ogled one another.

The smell of wine and smoke and sex were strong as Fluttershy stepped into the grand hall. Dim lights set the mood, turning down the red and gold opulence and helping to obscure the guests’ activities. She had sneaked into a private gathering intended for particular guests with specific tastes and a lack of inhibition. Mares and others in intricate yet revealing dresses and tight, well-tailored suits filled the floor. The occasional laugh, shout, or moan cut through the general, loud murmur of conversation, reminding Fluttershy that she wasn’t intended to be among them.

Pulling her coat tighter around her torso and tucking an arm under her chest, she quietly marched across the room, careful not to disturb any of the active conversations, trying her best to avoid earning the gaze of those who earned more in a day than she could imagine in a year. All that wealth was wasted on short-cut dresses, the frills of lacy lingerie poking around the edges of fine cotton and silk.

The Mareage also served as an excellent front for money laundering, mainly since the police often ignored it. That made sense when the police commissioner was in on the take, too. Fluttershy caught sight of her to one side, schmoozing with some of the prettier mares hired for the night. Her dress uniform had come undone a little, the tie around her neck absent, and the shirt’s top buttons unfastened to let her breathe. Fluttershy instinctively breathed in, one hand subconsciously adjusting her tight dress shirt, then moved on from staring.

The manager, owner, and proprietor of the Mareage was challenging to talk to if one didn’t have the right connections to make an appointment. It wasn’t impossible, of course. All one had to do was sneak into the right party at the right time and hope that the audacity alone would net her a conversation.

A raised section of booths sat at the far end of the large hall, reserved for only the richest of the rich or the most corrupt of the corrupt. That would be true during dinner service, and it was true there and then.

Fluttershy lingered between two clumps of well-stacked mares, scanning the booths. A conversation about quarterly reports and complaints about the weather on her left, while to her right floated the moans and giggles of hands on breasts, lips to neck, taking pleasure in audacity.

It took a moment to spot Fluttershy’s target. She commanded her booth and sat in the middle of a semi-circular cushioned bench. A pink coat, brighter and bolder than Fluttershy’s mane, with a carefully brushed and tied up purple mane, she leaned back with one arm crossed under her bust, heaving it up a little while the other lazily swirled a glass of fizzing amber. Her dress wasn’t as long and fanciful as the mares on either side of her, a simple, strappy yellow number. Shockingly modest, too.

Suri Polomare. Not the one to build the Mareage, but she’d lucked into ownership through a few choice deals, Fluttershy heard. A position she maintained through sharing some of her take with the police commissioner.

Talking to her was never fun. She came across as polite, cheerful, helpful and kind, but she was too ready to show someone the stairs and shove them down when she no longer needed them.

At the very worst, though, Fluttershy would merely be shown the door.

Confirming that Suri was there, Fluttershy pushed her way through the last few yards. There, the crowd grew thicker, wanting to be seen with the upper crust of society. They were technically all, but Suri and her entourage, all the other ponies in the booths beside her? They were the best of the worst and the worst of the best.

Fluttershy attempted to mutter apologies and requests into the ears of those in front of her, using her bulk to try and wedge herself between conversational partners and wandering hands. Some wandered to her, finding something unexpected than their intended target.

A palm cupped a breast, and even through her shirt and coat, it located one of Fluttershy’s nipples. Too big to simply pinch, the meaty part of that hand squeezed around the nub and areola, sending a spike of something up Fluttershy’s chest and through her brain. She swallowed the noise that attempted to leap off her tongue, turning it to a whimper.

Two more came to rest on Fluttershy’s hips, both righties. One rubbed in a slow circle, hardly working to chase the slow-moving pegasus. It felt around further down the thigh, toward the front, where it pulled the coat aside to follow the contours of her slacks where her pelvis met her leg. The other did the same, only to help lift the tail of her outerwear, better to clasp a fat cheek with a spread hand, fingers digging into the cleft where Fluttershy’s ass ended, and the back of her thighs began. A slight whine lifted out, with giggles on either side of her.

For a moment, Fluttershy took her eyes off Polomare to look at her assailants. She assumed she was a random circumstance, Fluttershy inadvertently interjecting herself in the middle of things.

Instead, she stared into a mare’s sultry, yellow eyes from a different century. Deep blue fur, cool like ice, totally mismatched with the warmth radiation from her body. Compared to many of the ponies there, her dress was relatively modest. It reached her throat, then flared out with the swell of her breasts. A tight fit, but it revealed nothing other than her size, still smaller than Fluttershy. It cinched back at the waist before flaring out at the hips again, finally revealing those long, thick legs from the thigh down.

The mare’s slight, confident smirk got a gulp out of Fluttershy.

“How odd,” she said. Hands slipped up either side of Fluttershy’s breasts, the heels of her palms giving them a little squeeze from either side. She then pulled on the grey coat’s lapels, pulling Fluttershy in a little tighter, straining the shirt buttons beneath. “You aren’t dressed for the occasion.”

A small giggle, a mix of nervousness for Fluttershy and reassurance for her new friend. “I’m only supposed to be here for a short while. Just a quick chat.”

“Uh-huh.” The other mare looked down, loosening her grip on the coat. It and Fluttershy slipped back, letting her breathe a little more freely. “Such a shame you’re not letting those girls out, though. They have to be the biggest I’ve seen in a long time. You should be proud to show these off.”

The growing heat in Fluttershy’s cheeks bloomed like her face was a flower opening a breadth of red petals. Fluttershy was already a little proud. Her tits were a source of euphoria when they weren’t an inconvenience and sometimes when they were. Having attention drawn to them right then, though, as she was trying to work?

It wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

Reaching up, Fluttershy gently wrapped a hand around the mare’s wrist, giving it a gentle pull. Token resistance was all she received, as the hand accepted its removal. “Thank you, but I’m not here to have fun.” She smiled, dipping her head a little in apology.

As much as the pout was intended in jest, Fluttershy felt the disappointment in the other mare. “That is sad to hear. At the very least, you should let someone take your coat so that you can be more comfortable.” Dainty fingers lifted Fluttershy’s hat, pulling it off and placing it on the mare’s head. “I can take this for now, too.”

Fluttershy lurched forward to grab her hat but found her arms restrained. Hands tugged on the coat, at the sleeves, lapel, and waist, where they lifted and pulled. With a squeak and a flail, Fluttershy stumbled backwards with the pulling arms. “Wait, hold on!” she protested as someone gently kicked Fluttershy in the small of her back.

She fell free of the coat, landing in the arms of the mysterious mare again. She’d somehow grappled Fluttershy’s wrists, holding them out and pulling Fluttershy close again. In the kerfuffle, more of Fluttershy’s hair had fallen across her face, obscuring anything other than that cheeky grin and glittering gold eyes.

“Call me Middie. I can only think of a few reasons a mare like you would be here,” she said. “Here to speak to Suri, right?”

Fluttershy blinked twice. “How did—?”

“Please, half of us already know your face.” She looked back down, gazing into the gaps between the buttons of a strained top. “The other half know these. So many ponies talk about this prodigious pair…”

“Oh, um, thank you.” A little squeak and Middie’s hands found their way onto both tits. Fingers curled down around and beneath their equators. Thumbs stretched out, pressing into the firm, springy skin, teasing ever so close to the puff of nipples.

“Come on,” Middie said, reaching forward to tease her fingertips close to the bra band beneath. They curled in, looping under the tight band through the dress shirt, letting Middie lead Fluttershy on and up the stairs.

As it was the right direction, Fluttershy saw no need to protest, even if she was being yanked Polomare’s way as though her bra were the handle of a cart.

She found herself led tit-first before Polomare’s booth. Middie circled behind Fluttershy, leaning around her side while wrapping her arms around her waist, elbows on her pelvis while her hands worked on supporting each butter-yellow melon. It did bring a little relief, moving some of the heft from Fluttershy’s back to her legs instead, though that made them protest a little more than their baseline.

Polomare took a few moments to notice Fluttershy’s presence. The mare to her left commanded her attention, her fur a faint cream that bordered on white with alternating stripes of blue in her mane. Likewise, her dress covered much, though now that Fluttershy looked down rather than up, without as much of the table in the way and few distractions, that didn’t necessarily mean she was adequately dressed. Rather than an empire cut, the band cinched in tight just beneath her boobs; it was loose like a cropped sweater with matching, the tasselled fabric underneath that spread to show off a rounding belly.

When she did finally see her, her wide smile flattened. Not to a frown, but a faint irritation. “Fluttershy. Hello.”

Middie widened her stance behind Fluttershy, ensuring Fluttershy couldn’t take a step back. “She was milling around, looking longingly your way,” she said, a teasing note in her voice. “She wants to talk to you.”

“Of course she does.” Polomare’s smile found its way to her face once more; there was only something else to it. A crookedness, a star southward of Fluttershy’s face. It was salacious, wanting. “I would say it’s good to see you, but it’s only good to see, well…” She waved a hand, ensuring it never rose too high. “Whatever is it you want from me? We’re trying to have fun.”

Fluttershy fought to find her voice, and while it was a struggle, her throat creaking as she searched, she managed to wrangle it eventually. “I, um, I came to ask you about a certain someone.”

Middie’s hands squeezed, fingers plunging into plush tit-flesh, eliciting a groan from Fluttershy.

“A certain someone? What, can’t be more specific?” Polomare giggled and snorted, and her entourage followed, delayed like a long-distance call. “Mhm, okay. I can give you a little information if this is who I think it is. It will cost you a little, though.”

Here it came. No one in Fillydelphia offered anything for free. Goods, information, it was all the same. If you wanted it, they would demand their pound of flesh.

Or, in Fluttershy’s case, the exposure of several pounds.

“We can talk money,” Fluttershy suggested. Unlikely as it was, it was worth asking. “I’m sure there’s a g-good price?”

Wagging a finger, Polomare tutted. “You know how this goes, Fluttershy. You come here dressed like a businessmare, trying to bring down the mood with work, work, work!” A loud laugh, enough to draw the attention of nearby booths. Dozens of eyes first fall on Polomare, then on Fluttershy’s figure. “You have the opportunity to walk away. I’m sure you have other options. You’re super resourceful. What will it be?”

With a deep breath, Fluttershy’s bust rose and fell. She’d become hyperaware of her breasts, the way her bra dug into them, bulging them over the top, the way they strained her top and the buttons.

She let herself be objectified. She could have made more of a fuss, grabbed her coat and turned around. She could show Polomare her tail right then, too.

But there was something inside Fluttershy that also wanted what Polomare offered. Not the information that was paramount but what she desired in trade.

Clenching her fist, Fluttershy gave a coy head tilt and a meek but earnest smile. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”

“Oh, it’ll be easy. Just stand there and look pretty.” With a click of Polomare’s fingers, Middie reached up to Fluttershy’s collar. Midnight blue fingers graced her throat, then her collarbone, delicate, gentle. Goosebumps ran up Fluttershy’s neck at their touch.

Then, they clasped the fabric above the first button and pulled hard. As though a damn had been broken, the fabric pulled aside to let her breasts pop forward, unconstrained by the increasingly tight garment. The bra hardly helped, principally serving as a shelf for her mammaries. The day hadn’t been long, but it had progressed, filling out her figure just a little more.

A pinch between her wings and Fluttershy’s bra slackened, too, her pert breasts hanging heavily against her ribcage. Without the proper support, she felt their weight far more accurately, an ache in the middle of her back. She constantly ached, and her tits were too fat and heavy not to cause back problems, but the bra at least mitigated that a little.

Middie’s hands made for a passable substitute, holding up the faintly sloshing mass.

The marehandling, the exposure, they steamed Fluttershy’s face, an intense heat fuzzing her vision.

Polomare leaned forward. Her bosom squished into the table. Being more modestly sized and dressed, it looked more flirtatious than sultry.

It worked, though, adding to the myriad factors that made Fluttershy moan.

“Presumably, you’re asking after Rarity, right?” A little wave, and the mare to her left. After hesitating, she rose, disappearing from Fluttershy’s view as she strolled to Celestia nowhere.

Fluttershy nodded to Polomare. She dared not risk opening her mouth unless she wanted to draw more attention to herself.

“Well, I can’t say much about what she’s been up to. She’s kept to herself the past few weeks.” A tilt of the head, a hum. “But you probably knew that, too, right?”

Polomare shuffled out of the booth and approached Fluttershy. No eye contact, no faux respect or politeness. She had eyes only for Fluttershy’s boobs, which she gratefully took from Middie, freeing the other mare to work on unfastening Fluttershy’s tight pants.

“She’s hired some more muscle. Dockyard, a warehouse further into the city. Also got some folks travelling in and out of the city toward the reservoir. It makes me want to know what she’s up to.”

Middie had to force those pants down, firmly shimmying them past the apex of Fluttershy’s hips. Hands gripped ankles, pulling her hooves free of the bundle on the floor, placing them inside another that Fluttershy only felt. Soft, light fabric, a little springy. A glance down confirmed it was a spring green, with Polomare’s arm candy crouched down, ready to lift it.

Leaving one hand to pinched toward the cap of a teat, Polomare reached into her dress, around the outside of a boob to somewhere beneath it. Fluttershy bit her lip as she watched, only faintly aware that Polomare’s hand gracefully teased out little white beads, a little trickle of sweetness that cooled her tit as it dribbled down.

Polomare pulled out something. Intricately designed, colourful. It looked like a butterfly, its dark, shimmering green wings thrown aside. Narrow, angular holes sat in the middle of each wing.

Fluttershy only had to wonder its purpose for a moment as Polomare delicately pressed it to Fluttershy’s snout. A mask barely obscuring her identity. It was not as functional as hoped, but at least it was cute.

“Spend the evening here, and I’ll give you the name of the mare Rarity dealt with, giving her the ponypower for whatever goal she’s working toward. She’s a newcomer, not in any of your files.”

She turned Fluttershy around, finally removing the loosely hanging shirt and bra. Fluttershy realised then how many ponies were already looking her way, many eyes stuck fast to her figure, making her hips tingle along with her breasts.

As the dress was hiked up past her thighs, then her waist, Fluttershy believed she’d get some coverage again. She didn’t, though. The dress covered her belly, but it simply cupped her breasts, covering their lowest curve and doing little more than framing her puffy, leaking nipples.

“H-how long?” Fluttershy stammered to Polomare, leaning over her shoulder, massaging her breasts from the sides.

“The party officially ends in a few hours. We have a deal, investigator?”

A deft, rolling squeeze built up pressure at the cap, her nipple aching for release. If Polomare just moved her fingers another inch or two…

“D-deal.”

The inch was closed, fingers pinched, and a handful of thin, milky streams misted the nearest patrons below Fluttershy.

Author's Note

Thank you for reading so far!

As a reminder, this is a commissioned work. If you would like me to write something for you, please go here!