Chapters The Chronicles of Fluttershy, P.I
Fluttershy, P.I.
That’s what was printed on the frosted window door to Fluttershy’s office, though it was only a step away from not entirely fitting the word.
There was a desk, three chairs with one behind, filing cabinets along one wall and a corkboard along another. The board held a collection of newspaper clippings, notes, and grainy photographs, connected by pins and strings of several colours.
From behind her desk, Fluttershy sat and read the morning newspaper. It was part of her routine, something that helped ground herself in the reality she found herself in. There wasn’t much interesting to read most days, but occasionally Fluttershy would spot something that would pique her interest and point her toward a job. Sometimes the cartoons were funny. Either way, until she opened that door fully for business, the time passed between taking care of personal business and when her actual job started.
She’d stepped into the role she played some time ago. A month and a half, by her counting, but she’d gotten used to it all within the first two weeks. Despite her timid nature, being a private investigator wasn’t too tricky while having its share of ups and downs. She mostly had to talk to people and ask questions, occasionally take photos or sneak into offices and homes to steal a letter. While she despised stealing morally, stealing to make someone else’s life a little better was exhilarating.
Smoke and perfume were permanent scents in the office and streets. Not quite what she expected, but it wasn’t an unwelcome set of smells. The pegasus found it romantic, and she was sure she wasn’t the only one to think that.
With her trench coat folded over the back of her chair and her hat on her desk, she retained a pair of tight pants and an even tighter shirt that left her bra outlined in the fabric. Finding clothes that fit over her head-sized breasts wasn’t too difficult in that version of Fillydelphia, but she discovered that her current wardrobe was growing increasingly tight. She ought to do something about it soon.
A dark brown shape sauntered to the frosted glass and rapped in a quick little pattern. Tap, ta-tap.
“The door’s unlocked,” Fluttershy called out. The confidence in her voice came easy, knowing who it was on the other side of that door, turning the knob, creaking it open.
A light brown mare clad in an ill-fitting, dark brown coat stepped in, a broad, floppy hat hiding most of her face save for her soft, red-brown lips. Once the door shut behind her, Tawny Broad tilted her head back and revealed deep hazel eyes with a smile.
“Good morning.” The depth and richness of Tawny’s voice flowed into Fluttershy’s ears like honey.
Fluttershy folded the newspaper and leaned forward, her breasts sliding onto the desk before her. Even with the support of her bra, it was nice having a little extra help from the tabletop.
“It’s good to see you, Tawny.” Fluttershy’s voice remained soft as butter and sweet as sugar, and she tilted her head with a grin aimed at Tawny.
The two had a decent working relationship. Tawny had her fingers in many pies, an ear to the ground. Whatever saying one would prefer. It meant that she was one of the first people Fluttershy would ask when she needed information. Tawny was almost always able to deliver, even if it was just pointing her in the vaguely correct direction.
She was also about as stacked as Fluttershy was, though the coat partially hid it. Though her hip and bust line was the same, Tawny’s waist was narrower, yet they were close enough in size and shape that they shared a tailor.
She sat in one of the chairs across from Fluttershy and crossed her legs while she reached beneath one of the lapels of her coat. Unlike Fluttershy, who tried buttoning her shirt to her throat to mixed success, Tawny was quite happy to leave a little more skin and fur on show, a rich, brown valley of cleavage that Fluttershy could easily get lost in. The fantasy was broken when Tawny produced a brown envelope and tossed it across the desk at Fluttershy.
Not a social call, then.
Wordlessly, Fluttershy opened the envelope and emptied the contents onto her desk. A small pile of polaroids spilled out, photographs of the marina southwest of Fillydelphia, and a few with hard-to-make-out individuals.
At least one wore a stark, stretched-out white blouse and a wide-brimmed floppy hat on top of her purple mane, her bottom half obscured by a car.
“Thought you would like to know what she was up to,” said Tawny. She reached into the other side of her coat and pulled out a small pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “You don’t mind...?”
Fluttershy did mind, at least on principle, but for some reason, the smoke there smelled nice, nor did it didn’t bring her to cough. So, Fluttershy shook her head and waved a hand forward as permission.
A police transcript had slid out beneath the photos, evidenced by a star and circle, the latter decorated with Fillydelphia Police Department around its edges. Most of it had been blacked out, likely indicating that whatever strings Tawny had pulled still had their limits. Among what could be read, three words repeated. ‘Product.’ ‘Marina.’ ‘Rarity.’
“I suppose I don’t get paid for pointing out she’s up to something.” Fluttershy giggled as she looked back up at Tawny.
“No, but you do get paid for the job.” That time Tawny reached into a pocket and tossed a wad of bills onto the desk between them. “Usual rate, plus a little extra.” She glanced up and down Fluttershy’s front and smirked. “Something tells me you need it.”
The blush crept across Fluttershy’s cheeks, and she reached for the money. Most likely, Tawny hadn’t shorted her, but it was still sensible to flick through and count the bills to ensure the correct amount was there.
“What’s the address?” Fluttershy asked as she prodded one of the photographs of the marina. “I know I could just wander on by, but I’d appreciate it if you could tell me.”
“1024 Magnus Avenue. One of the newer warehouses that’s got an interior dock, I think.”
That made sense for Rarity. She liked her privacy when she wasn’t showing off. Hiding what she was up to meant the two previous grand displays were magnificent and breathtakingly astounding.
But using the docks wasn’t her thing. Very little of value moved in or out there. Trawlers brought fish from downriver, closer to the sea, though most would end up canned and sent back out. Rarity also didn’t have much interest in things like steel refining either. Fillydelphia--any version of Fillydelphia--didn’t have anything worth taking at the marina except perhaps the purses of the few bar owners that way.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Tawny stood and wandered around the desk before sitting on the edge with her legs crossed. “Couldn’t find out much about the traffic. Harbourmaster is locked up tighter than my coat on the edge of town. Don’t know what sailed in or out.”
Fluttershy couldn’t help herself from drinking in Tawny’s figure up close. It was breathtaking, even when concealed by her coat.
Dragging her eyes from Tawny’s chest, Fluttershy cleared her throat and asked, “Is my job to find out what she’s doing at just the marina or what she has planned overall?”
With a shrug, Tawny leaned in, a finger running down the front of Fluttershy’s shirt. It dented the fabric, gently straining the buttons. “We’ll take it step by step. Forgive me for taking advantage of your curiosity and charity, but I know you’ll chase the lead a little further than I can pay right now.” The finger flicked up, catching Fluttershy’s chin. “In cash, at least. Surely you’d be more comfortable out of that thing, no?”
The heat in Fluttershy’s face bridged her nose, and she looked away, back at the photographs. “I need to stay professional,” she said. It was a true enough statement. Fluttershy could probably get away with worse and maintain her reputation easily, but a little less skin went even further.
The offer was mighty tempting, though.
“Hun, you’ve done more than enough professional work for me to get a little TLC in return. We won’t go further than you’re comfortable, and I’m not the sort of girl to go the whole four bases with you, but come on...”
Tawny fingered a button open like she’d practised the motion over and over again, training for the moment. For all Fluttershy knew, she had.
“Let them breathe a little.”
Fluttershy breathed in deeply, her chest heaving up. The one button was enough to let her heavy breasts bulge up, even if just by a tiny bit. It was also paradoxically enough to strain the remaining buttons of her shirt a little more.
Tawny reached down and plucked another button open with a finger, spilling out a little more yellow cleavage before Fluttershy gently pushed the hand away. Yet she lingered rather than throwing her hand back over herself to cover her chest. Even though her breasts ached a little more from the incredibly mild attention they received, it was still a relief to have a little less over them.
Tawny clucked her tongue and leaned back before she took a long drag of her cigarette. “Alright, hun, I get the message.” She retained her smile, but to Fluttershy, it seemed a little less than it was before. Should I assume the job is taken?”
Fluttershy looked straight ahead, Tawny’s body in her peripheral vision, and nodded.
She received a nod in return, followed by Tawny standing and strolling to the front door of Fluttershy’s office. Aside from the hungry look in her eyes, she looked just the same as when she stepped into that room; she looked just the same as when she stepped into Fluttershy’s life.
“I’ll be waiting for news. You know where to find me.”
With that, Tawny left, shutting the door behind her. Though she could only watch Tawny through thick, frosted glass, Fluttershy enjoyed the sway of the earth pony’s hips until they became too blurry to make out.
The breath in Fluttershy’s chest squeaked out in a vocalised sigh as Fluttershy sank into her seat. There she sat, her bosom resting on her belly in her curled-up pose for a minute before she shoved herself out of her chair and stood by the windows.
Fluttershy kept them down and partially open, obscuring wandering eyes but letting her peer out at the traffic below, pedestrian and otherwise. Round-roofed cars and soft-topped convertibles rumbled in the cobbled streets, and foot traffic filled the sidewalks. Though no sound rattled off the windows, there was a drizzle, a light sprinkle that kept the cars and roads shiny and wet.
A minute after Fluttershy stood, she caught a glimpse of Tawny walking through the streets. Her hat obscured her well enough from above, and if Fluttershy weren’t looking out for it specifically, she’d never be able to pick her out of the crowd.
The crowd, though, she could easily pick out individual details.
Dozens of ponies walked the streets. Mid-morning meant a lot of lingering foot traffic, though Fluttershy couldn’t tell what any individual’s job was. They all wore much the same, various soft-brimmed hats and coats that obscured but didn’t hide figures.
When first arriving, Fluttershy thought it was strange how many mares walked the streets at all times of the day. Even back home, there were still many stallions despite the disparity. It didn’t take long for Fluttershy to realise that stallions likely weren’t present in that Fillydelphia. The police force was all mares. So were many of the labourers, the blue-collar workers, the criminals. Every politician, every teacher. Every doctor.
It was nice being surrounded by so much beauty, at least. Fluttershy enjoyed the view of the wet city street, her eyes catching onto a few more... well-endowed figures. Most of the city’s population wasn’t quite as endowed and heavy as Fluttershy, but there was still plenty of mass to go around. In some cases, that mass lay between their legs, too, as bulges significant and small indicated a few of the mares with something else to flaunt.
Fluttershy opened her shirt more, button by button, as she raised her gaze to see the rest of the city. Red and grey bricks dominated much of the skyline, broken by round-topped windows, neon lights, and cables that crisscrossed every street like lace on a bodice.
A big city, seedy on every corner, full of life and adventure that Fluttershy was a little too afraid to leap into.
Now all that kept her from jumping into action was a little more self-care and a plan of action.
Fluttershy discarded her shirt on top of her coat, leaving her bosom bare to bulge over the top of her bra. The cups pinched it just enough to create a delicious divot where black fabric met tit, though it didn’t remain there for long. As Fluttershy approached her office’s door, she unfastened her bra and let it drop where it may, freeing up her hands to turn the lock on the door and bring its blinds down too.
Once Fluttershy got out on the street, she figured she had three critical tasks to accomplish before she moved onto the Doozy. Every job had a Doozy, the part of the job that made her heart race, and her chest ache.
Firstly, she’d need to contact the harbourmaster’s office. Tawny’s description was apt, as the mare in charge of Fillydelphia’s waterways didn’t like to blab too much about day-to-day operations. Someone beneath her, however, would likely have some indication of who and what was going where.
Fluttershy hurried over to the tiny bathroom tucked into the corner of her office. It was small enough that she almost tripped over the toilet, sink, or shower every time she stepped in.
At least it had a mirror that she happily used to examine herself. Right then, it was to check out her breasts, her eyes following the indentation in her breasts left by the bra. She heaved both hands up, relieving some of the sag and weight from one spot in her back to another. Fingers brushed over saucer-sized areola, and with a little squeeze, she produced half a dozen tiny white droplets.
After getting the water-way traffic records, the next step seemed to be worth visiting the marina and talking to employees at some of the surrounding businesses. They likely won’t be able to provide much more information, but there was always something small she could glean from the locals. Sometimes it was what she needed in the moment, plus she could also conduct a distant survey of the warehouse proper just to get an idea of what security might be like.
Leaning over the sink, Fluttershy rested her head on the mirror and squeezed along, running fingers from midway along her rack to the areola. She travelled a little further every few squeezes, making the pink circles bulge a little, and some of the tiny rivulets squirted in response, spraying the white porcelain with milk.
She bit her lip and stifled a moan, burying it in her throat with a gulp.
The bigger of the three tasks, and the last step before the Doozy, was for Fluttershy to speak to a mutual acquaintance of Rarity and hers potentially. It came with the risk of tipping her hand, but at the same time, the acquaintance also came with potential leads. It took some coaxing, but Fluttershy knew how to, ahem , milk the information out of her.
Each jet of milk felt like a tingling pinprick in Fluttershy’s chest, simultaneously uncomfortable and relieving. Draining herself of milk always had a feeling of shame and joy, something she dared only do in private. Tawny knew, though. She must have, or else she wouldn’t have commented on Fluttershy’s inevitable need for an updated wardrobe.
As the milk glistened in the light, hinting at where it ran down and into the drain, Fluttershy pictured the river that ran through Fillydelphia and the canals around the marina.
Once she had all the information she felt she could get there was only one more thing for Fluttershy to do. There was the Doozy.
She had to sneak into the warehouse and look for clues.
The poor pegasus’ breasts wouldn’t drain any time soon. The process was a form of maintenance. Periodic, frustrating, and she even had to repeat it a little more often to ensure she could go for longer periods before milking herself again.
She only needed to empty her udders a little, though. Just a few minutes while she thought about what she needed to do, despite how it twisted her gut and heated her chest and upper thighs. Then she would be small enough the bra wouldn’t pinch, and so long as she kept her flowing, pink mane tied up and tucked under her hat, she could go about the city unnoticed. Just another curvy face in the crowd to be ignored.
Fluttershy slowly straightened herself as she panted, meeting her gaze above her red-hot cheeks. Embarrassment and timidity made her, but she lowered her brow enough to draw out a shiver, putting on a fierce stare. The months alone in the city mean Fluttershy had to rely on herself for support, to push herself along.
A brief splash of water cleaned off the remaining milk collecting on the bottom curve of Fluttershy’s breasts, and another splash helped cool off her cheeks. Fortunately, the little wet patch between her legs was small, and once she was out in the rain it would be painted away by water.
All she had to do after a few moments more of breathing, of waiting, was to redress herself, coat and hat included, and set off into the streets of Fillydelphia.
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 !
The Chronicles of Fluttershy, P.I
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 !
The Chronicles of Fluttershy, P.I
Suri Polomare dangled a clear bag before Fluttershy, filled with what appeared to be a set of small, round buttons. Pink, translucent, and pockmarked with popped bubbles frozen in time.
She was pretty sure they were candies of some sort, given those same buttons lay in the hands of the mares to Fluttershy’s left and right. Some looked tense, their jaws set into a dead-ahead stare, but most looked as if they were thrilled to be there, wearing lazy, benign smiles spread across their faces.
The theme to their garments was clear: bikinis, lingerie, and even half-hearted dresses in cow-print, straining to contain a dozen huge and heaving breasts. Fluttershy felt a little out of place, even before considering she made it a baker’s dozen plus one.
“Take one,” Polomare said. “And then we’ll talk a little more. I won’t say a single word before that.”
As an investigator full of leaks, it wasn’t as if Fluttershy couldn’t put two and two together to make four on this occasion. At least in broad strokes, she knew what that candy would likely do to her. It wasn’t the first she’d heard of something like that candy in Fillydelphia. A few other mares she’d met or seen had clearly taken something or other to improve their assets.
Fluttershy envied their need to take them at all. “Is that really necessary?” she asked. Timidity choked her voice, briefly turning it to a squeak until she cleared her throat and spoke again. She even added a small, crooked smile, her best attempt at a self-assured smirk. “I’m sure I’ve got enough to go around as it is.”
Squeezing out one of the candies between her fingers, Polomare stared down at Fluttershy’s tits. That never failed to make Fluttershy self-conscious, but she dealt with it well enough, ignoring the feeling of being commoditised that came with being ogled. The implication Polomare saw her as inadequate was a little disconcerting, but amusing too. Novel and unique, especially since she had at least half as much more than the next biggest gal in the lineup.
“True.” Polomare held out the candy, pinched between her curled index finger and thumb. “But I want you to take it anyway, okay? This will make things so much more interesting.”
After a few moments’ consideration, Fluttershy sighed, her entire chest heaving with her exhalation. As she reached up to take the candy with one hand, Solomare clucked her tongue.
“Nuh-uh. You have to actually eat it.” She leaned over the table a little more, one hand atop it. It creaked under her weight.
A little fluster prompted Fluttershy’s wings to twitch. It was one thing to have her tits out. It was quite another thing to eat out of somepony else’s hand. Yet she had to do it. “Just this, and you’ll talk?”
“Well, we might chat about a few other things.” Polomare giggled. “But yes. Take this and stand there like a good girl until we’re done, and I’ll tell you everything, okay?”
That seemed sincere enough to Fluttershy, and she leaned forward just enough to pinch the candy between her teeth. It tasted sweet and hard as expected, and the sugar stripped away by her saliva tasted sweeter still as it stuck to her tongue and molars. For a second, she opened her mouth fully to let Polomare see the sweet balance on her tongue.
The candy passed her teeth with a clack, and then she firmly gulped it down. Opening her mouth again to confirm exactly as she'd been asked garnered a blink from Polomare, who then clasped her hands together with a clap. “Ooh, such a good sport. Now, let’s get to business. Both kinds.”
With a clap of her hands, every other mare in the lineup took their sweet tabs with a chorus of gulps and slurps. A moan even rose up in the mix, a backing wail somewhere between pleasure and discomfort. Most remained motionless in the immediate aftermath, except one shorter pony at the far end.
Unable to make more than snippets of her mare’s dark grey coat, all Fluttershy could see were slivers of her fidgeting body and a pair of hands reaching over her front.
Fluttershy resisted the urge to follow her lead. She curled her fists tight at her sides as something knotted up deep inside her chest. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling. Throughout puberty and even before that moment, the tight, aching sensation in her tits had been an ever-present companion. It had forced her to roll onto her back during the night and made her wince as she knocked into doorframes.
There and then, Polomare weaponised her bosom against her, and she swore her bust felt a little heavier.
Polomare put a hand on her hip as she stepped back, and a duo of mares filtered in front of her, hooves clacking on the hardwood. On one splayed-out hand, they held trays filled with tumblers, which they placed one at a time in front of the gazonga gallery.
“I don’t suppose I’ll be able to get a name to who hired you?” Polomare chuckled, tilting a hand in front of her face.
Tawny floated to Fluttershy’s mind. As far as Polomare was concerned, she was a nobody, just a face in the crowd, though it wasn’t unlike her to attend such events as a lesser-known guest or as some of the… entertainment.
Best not to give Polomare anything that could put her in danger, though. Half the mares in the room would probably hire Fluttershy to rat in one of their erstwhile allies.
“You know I don’t—“ Fluttershy’s next words failed to come out as anything other than a choked grunt. The skin across her chest all of a sudden felt awfully tight as if the bloom in her bosom had filled out to the limits of her flesh while a pair of giant hands squeezed her tight. Her tits actually bounced as her body tensed up, the crease at the top of her chest growing more pronounced for a moment.
A familiar coolness made her teats tighten more. Milk expressed, forced out of her so suddenly to seem supernatural. It was only a matter of time before she started leaking again in the next few hours, but right in front of so many eyes, even those on either side of her.
Muscles relaxed, and Fluttershy’s diaphragm loosened enough to let her breathe again. She could feel herself tilting forward, and she rolled her shoulders back in a common reflex. Though she didn’t quite readjust herself as much as she’d like, the weight on her front was altogether unfamiliar to her then.
“Oh my goodness…!” she muttered, and the ride repeated itself, that time with stars sparking in her eyes.
With a deep, haughty chuckle, Polomare slid between the two waitresses, and with spread-out fingers, she hefted one of Fluttershy’s udders up a little. “Doesn’t that feel so good? C’mon, enjoy the moment. You’ll have everything you need when we’re done, okay?”
Biting her lip as she came down from the new high, Fluttershy tried to organise her thoughts. There was no way those pills could be so fast-acting, not on their own. “How?” Even one word was enough to turn her soft, yellow mammaries taut and gifting Polomare the glory of a milk-sodden forearm, with much of the rest spattering over the table.
“Enchanted,” the pony beside Fluttershy said. The little bounce in their bosom drew her eyes down instead of meeting their gaze, though she could tell out the corner of her vision they were focused on their own blooming tittage. The pasties over each nipple at least contained the potential flood within.
Fluttershy dug her fingernails into her palms. Just as she thought she was going to make progress, polomare altered the deal further. Protest, and she swells more, produces more, but if she remained silent throughout then there’d be no way to probe for more info, more details.
“Just a little extra our supplier likes to add, not that she mentioned it anywhere.” Fluttershy was starting to despise Polomare’s laugh. Somewhere between a giggle and a chuckle, all with the threat of a snort. “You could also make it run faster, but the effects tend to be a little… longer lasting.”
Potentially permanent, putting the pegasus into an progressively pernicious predicament as far as her bra size was concerned. She chewed on her lip and grunted, and then her shoulders tensed up.
The subsiding flood didn’t ramp up again. No unnatural squeeze, no sudden increase in weight, though the gradual filling and silent rumbling behind her teats remained more noticeable. At the very least, small noises of discomfort or pleasure won’t put her into a cursed loop.
Fluttershy’s head snapped around when she heard a squeal far to her right. The grey-coated mare leaned forward, past the lineup, with her hands curled underneath her udders. Her areola and nipples looked swollen and a little sore.
The waitress marehandling a tit, gave reason for the squeal, holding a glass up to it as she tried to angle the nipple down. A dozen thick jets of white cream flooded into one of the glasses until it was a quarter full. The mare was released, the squirt reduced to a constant leak that dribbled down the curve of her breast, darkening her fur.
The waitress held out the glass, up above her, examining the contents. Without a word she then held it out to Polomare, who gracefully took it, even swirling the contents around to paint the glass walls white.
“Good and thick.” She stuck her snout over the top, sniffing. “Almost odourless, but there’s a faint sweetness there.”
Fluttershy squeaked when Polomare put the glass to her lips and tipped her head back, dumping the contents into her mouth. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, followed by that satisfied click and sigh one made whenever they finished off a refreshing drink.
“She’s coming along well?” In all her mixed surprise and fascination, Fluttershy hadn’t noticed Middie float up beside Polomare. At the same time, other guests approached the tables, taking glasses for themselves. A few more mares groaned along the lineup, but again some of them remained steadfastly quiet as ponies filled their cups.
“Almost the best I’ve had. It feels like I wasted everypony else’s time.” Another giggle-snort from Polomare, and she smiled down at Middie. “Help yourself to whichever you’d like. You deserve it after bringing these new kegs to me. Hell, break them in if you want.”
“B-break them in!?”
Fluttershy’s squeaking voice shifted high enough she could no longer hear herself. Stars burst in her eyes, against the dark backdrop of her lids squeezed so hard she saw an aurora of colour. That time, the tangle of pressure built up enough that her knees shook under her, but she stood her ground, holding herself up as best she could. Even as the weight bid her to bow forward, to reach out for the table with her hands and catch herself.
Her tits met the surface at the same time as her hands, and the squeeze her torso put on them urged out more jets of thick, white cream. She could feel hands pressing into the broad, buttery coat stretched out in front of her, loosely wrapping around puffy areola and distended nipples.
She managed to open her eyes enough, seeing through bleary, squinting vision. Her focus remained on the ego-rending tingling across her bosom, so she struggled to see much in detail. Yet she made out enough to see Middie lean back from where she’d doubled over, holding something pure and white in her hands. She brought it to her snout and sipped it with the delicacy of a true sommelier; then her big, golden eyes shifted their sultry sleepiness to bright stars. For a moment, she and Fluttershy locked gazes, and an electric buzz shot up Fluttershy’s spine, it’s source from a particular point in her pelvis.
“Can we keep her?” Middie asked, looking up at Polomare.
Even as a joke, the risk was too great to not protest it. “N-no!” Ironically, as the words came out and the gurgling mass ballooned up again, the table bore the brunt of the weight, actually taking away some of the strain from Fluttershy’s shoulders and back.
Polomare clucked her tongue and huffed. “Would that we could, but I think Fillydelphia would miss its favourite investigator. We’ll just have to make do with what we have.” One of Polomare’s hands came to rest atop the wobbling shelf beneath Fluttershy’s chin, and she slowly put her weight onto the hand. Her fingers disappeared into the flesh as if she were instead squeezing a latex balloon, surprisingly plush and giving, though Fluttershy knew better. The audible gush of milk across the table made her acutely aware of the sodden nature of her thighs, especially as she rubbed them together.
The other, milk soaked hand pulled back a glass overflowing with Fluttershy’s milk, which Polomare tossed back like a triple shot. Another click-sigh, and she held the glass high above her.
Silence fell in their corner of the room, dozens of eyes first falling on the glass above them all, then on Fluttershy herself. She felt, quite literally, like cattle.
She hated that she liked the thought.
“You.” Polomare snapped her free, milk drenched hand and pointed to one of the waitresses. She pointed to herself, digging a finger into her bosom, and Polomare nodded. “Get some pitchers for us. I’m not letting this opportunity slip by us.” She then looked back to Fluttershy, one eye brow cocked and her smirk pulled back and up so far she showed teeth. “Unless you’re offering to stay for the next party.”
"N-no," Fluttershy managed to stammer out. Swearing that her breasts had started to creak, their size began to push her back, as if their volume could force her to stand upright again, so long as the table remained to keep her well balanced. The idea of using diner tables to support or bosom sent a spike of something up Fluttershy’s back, a mix of disdain and pleasure.
Middie clucked her tongue, drawing Fluttershy’s attention just as she rolled her eyes. “And I’d have made sure you were so comfortable.”
A small, nervous laugh escaped Fluttershy’s mouth. Flattering as the thought was, she had other duties, a job to do that didn’t involve all the eyes and hands all over here—
Wait, hands? Those weren’t Polomare’s, nor Middie’s or her own resting and pressing on the sides and top of her tits. Her neighbours had got their mitts on her, too, too distracted to notice the one or two hands clamouring for a grope of their exposed tits.
“Mare, I wish I could get as big as this.” The one from earlier who had told Fluttershy of the enchantment spoke. “Price to pay for being a guy, I suppose.”
Curiosity pulled at Fluttershy’s eyebrows, and she felt tension build across her face as emotions and sensations pulled the muscles in far too many directions. She actually glanced down, noticing the busty boy’s bulge in his slacks. Not big, nowhere the size of some mare’s, some like Suri herself, but noticeable all the same.
She caught herself sucking in a little drool and looked back into his eyes just for long enough to see him wink, and then a galaxy exploded in her vision.
The sound of milky jets hitting the bottoms of plastic pitchers rang. She’d filled a bucket before, privately, away from prying eyes. It just got a little irritating, and she hadn’t exactly filled it far, nowhere to capacity.
Through one eye, squinting and blurry, Fluttershy barely made out the top of a pitcher over her ballooned cleavage. It filled with her milk at an alarming rate, cups of the stuff. She was sure there was another pressed to the other teat, judging by the could sensation ringing her nipple.
Right as the pitcher started to overfill, the curvaceous waitress holding it pulled back, and a bouquet of hands holding tumblers and wine glasses jerked into its place.
Too many hands. She’d drawn a good number of the party guests, faces she’d tried to avoid through her faintest attempt at anonymity. Some recognised her, and those that didn’t would from then on, if and when she had to cross paths with them in the future. A temporal thrill for a later date, a new note to dance around.
Her thighs felt slick, the warm, moistness of arousal barely felt except in how easy it made Fluttershy to slide one leg past the other, squirming on the spot. She’d unintentionally made a name for herself now. Fluttershy, Suri Polomare’s milk keg. A title she’d wear reluctantly and without admission, with pleasure too.
She endured the crowd’s indulgence. More pitchers floated away, a half dozen that Fluttershy could count, and then more besides when she forgot what numbers were. The electric buzz permeating her being, the wild, bucking pleasure that sent a twitch through her hips made it impossible to count, to properly form any thoughts other than bearing with the pleasure and awkwardness.
There was also a mix of shame and pride, the fact Polomare had taken her as a trophy, had successfully shown her off to all her upper crust peers.
In her procession to turning into a whimpering, whining blob of a mare, Fluttershy sunk into herself, becoming nothing more than all those sensations, the pair of walking tits that she was. Just let somepony else carry them, do the thinking for her. She could just pop sugary pills, grow and stretch and swell to her heart’s content.
She opened her mouth, to squeak out a word or three, whatever she could. The air tasted thick with her arousal and sweat, her proximity to herself overpowering the smoke and musk that permeated the room before.
Instead, Fluttershy squeaked as someone turned her hand over and pushed it across her bosom. Polomare curled Fluttershy’s hands around the transparent, plastic bag, then gave the mare a sultry wink.
She said something, indicating Fluttershy’s eventual freedom. Fluttershy didn’t take the words in, instead twitchingly turning the baggie over between her fingers.
A label. A logo. A lead. Bon Bon’s Bon Bons .
A shaky smile split Fluttershy’s face, and she let it fall into her cleavage with the most shameless moan she’d allowed herself in months.
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 !
