Chrysalis knocks on the door again (reaching over her bosom, mashed all across the wooden panel). This time she shouts “Bug Bites Pizza!” in the hopes that it will make it more likely that somepony hears. For all she knows, the residents might be selectively incapable of hearing the sound of knuckles on wood. She’ll have to test their receptiveness to the sound of breaking the door down if they make her late for her route. She grumbles and grimaces to herself while she stands there, her arm growing sore from holding up the box of pizza.

Then, right as she’s contemplating what the best implement for use as a battering ram would be, there suddenly comes a loud crash from inside the home, a commotion of thuds and bangs like there’s a fight breaking out. “Hello?” Chrysalis calls. The small part of her that is starting to accept her place in society wonders if she ought to inform the authorities (less likely that she’ll be mistaken for the culprit if she steps forward, perhaps).

The turmoil goes silent again. She hears something that might be voices. Finally, hoofsteps come tromping closer, approaching the other side of the door, and at last it opens. A sliver through which the changeling sees a pony standing on the other side. She’s at an odd angle, turned away with her face twisted to the side. A big grey mass, the same color as her fur, rises up past her. “Oh, hey there, I’ve heard about you!” she says with a broad smile and a cheery giggle, “You’re that boobie bug who moved into town!”

“Uh…yeah,” Chrysalis mutters absently. She’s too distracted to be angry, distracted by the mare’s golden eyes which stare in completely different directions from each other. She isn’t certain that either of them is actually looking at her—not even ogling her chest. “You’re, uh…Ditzy Doo?”

“Uh-huh, big Double-D here!” she remarks as she pulls the door open the rest of the way.

Chrysalis thinks that that’s way too small.

Ditzy Doo is turned to the side because she never would have been able to face the door head-on. Her breasts dwarf her torso, rising up higher than her face and extending far to either side, like giant weather balloons grafted to her chest. She’s still shorter than Chrysalis, but those monsters could swallow her without a trace.

“Sorry I took so long,” she says with another chuckle, “I was in Las Pegasus, hiding from the mob, when—”

“Mom,” a voice calls from somewhere inside the house, “we’re talking about today.”

“Oh, yeah.” Ditzy Doo smiles bashfully and blushes. “I kinda got my head stuck in a jar.” And she shrugs, her wings fluttering.

Chrysalis stares at her and blurts out, “Huh?”

“Anyway, I was kinda hoping you’d be the one to show up,” she then says while she reaches into her cleavage and pulls out a small pouch, “I wanted to show you my appreciation.”

It takes Chrysalis a moment to catch up and realize that this is supposed to be payment. She takes out the jar from her own cleavage and the two of them contort and compress in order to come together. The doorframe creaks ominously as flesh pushes into it on either side. Ditzy finally gets the pouch in with a jangling clink, and a flurry of hearts rises out of the jar, a tip larger than Chrysalis has ever received.

“I work delivery too, you know,” Ditzy says with an earnest cross-eyed smile. “Us girls in uniform gotta stick together.”

“Th…thanks,” Chrysalis mutters while, unconsciously and automatically, handing the pizza through the doorway. Ditzy gingerly takes the box and rests it against her own bosom.

“No problem! You have a nice night and stay safe out there!”

“You too…?”

Despite the looming threat of her schedule, Chrysalis just stands there for a while after the door closes. She’s entranced by the smell around her, the scent of love lingering in the air. There was not a hint of lust in the way Ditzy Doo regarded her, not even veiled by embarrassment. This is pure, unfiltered love, given out so freely, and all for a stranger?

“This would be the perfect subject to take captive,” she impulsively thinks before mentally slapping herself on the wrist.

The idea of a friend is still something alien and repugnant to Chrysalis.

But maybe, just maybe, they can at least bond over their breast-related woes.

Author's Note

Originally written 1/7/25

Ditzy was on my mind so I thought about including her here.

Don't ask me what the norms regarding hyper are supposed to be in this setting.

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