What. Why would anybody write this?
You lie back, resting your feet on the nearby table as you sit in your chair, a vapid, pointless magazine in your hands. You don't know why anybody reads these things, you're struggling to find anything of value inside. With a grunt, you throw it aside, and try to drift off to sleep - you have a gap in the day's bookings. Apparently nobody needs a massage this afternoon, and yet you still can't leave, because there's one last appointment at the end of the day. Ah well, at least you're unlikely to be disturbed. In the silence of an empty spa, you slowly drift off to slee- Nope. You hear hooves clip clopping along the tiled floor, getting louder and louder as the pony they belong to gets closer and closer. Maybe they're here to see Lotus or Aloe, they must be here somewhere, maybe. No such luck, as your door swings open, revealing Rarity, her purple mane as pristine and well kept as it always is, and her fur white enough to cause pain to your sleepy eyes.
She stands there for several seconds, silently, while you stare. Like she's basking in your admiration, when you actually would rather she went away. You open your mouth to ask her what she'd like, when you cuts you off - "You! You can help a mare in need! You can be my... knight in gleaming armour!", she exclaims. Your attempts to introduce familiar expressions to Ponyville have not met with much success, apparently, but she'd pout if you corrected her. As you've learned is best, you calmly ask what you can do for her, prompting another over-dramatic explosion. "Oh!" she cries, "The indignity! Forced to a backwater spa through my own physical needs!", she says as she walks towards you, placing a hoof on your chest and staring at you, "I simply cannot go on! I feel so full, my work is in danger! My career lies in the balance! Won't you please help me, won't you? Won't you pleeeee-ase?". She calmly walks over to the massage table and, with a flourish of her hoof, faints backwards onto it.
"What.", you deadpan. Maybe if you let her keep talking she'll actually tell you what her problem is, no doubt something inconsequential that can be fixed in minutes. She looks up from her carefully orchestrated fall in annoyance, snorting slightly as she reaches down and pokes her left hand teat. "I simply cannot work like this, it's distracting. Fix it."
If there's anything you've learned about marshmallow pony biology, it's that they do a lot of things that don't seem to serve any practical purpose. This is one of them - it tends to go away after a few days, and indeed, most mares just leave it. A few days of mild discomfort isn't unbearable. For most mares. Rarity is, of course, not most mares, as she would tell you quite forcefully were you to imply it. Which, of course, you won't - you still owe rarity one for putting you in touch with Lotus and Aloe, and you know you don't have any other appointments, so you swing your legs round as you get out of the chair, and go to get the machine normally used for this. It extracts the milk into a tank, which the pony in question can do what they like with.
"Stop!", you hear, as soon as it's obvious you're going for the machine. "You aren't seriously considering subjecting a *lady* such as myself to such a cold, undignified machine, are you? No, no, that won't do at all. Come, use your mouth.", she commands. You wait a few moments for her to laugh and allow you to continue getting the machine. She doesn't. She's serious. So you walk over, telling her to shift down the table so you can reach her if you kneel, her hind legs lying loose at around head level, pointing off in either direction. Licking your lips to moisturise them, you lean forward and clamp your mouth around her left teat, as Rarity "oohs" at the sensation. You hope to Celestia that Lotus and Aloe aren't within earshot, or you're going to have quite a lot of explaining to do.
You begin to gently suck, a few drops of milk emerging from her engorged nipple, which run down into your mouth and on to your tongue - vanilla. She tastes like vanilla beans, except a bit sweeter. It's surprisingly delicious, so you begin to suckle a little harder, drawing out a slow stream, which flows slowly over your tongue and down your throat, as you continue a slow pattern of suck, and release. Suck, and release. After a few moments, you feel her body shift beneath you as she lifts her head back up, and looks at you expectantly. You take a break to lift your own head, her breast wobbling slightly, and the slow stream of milk dribbling a little before it slows to a stop, to ask "What?".
She replies, sternly, that she does not have all day, and if you could use your tongue to hurry things up a little, that would be ideal, thank you very much. Yes, mein fuhrer. Doing as you're told, you use your tongue first to clean up the dribble on her fur, before clamping your mouth once more, sucking with renewed vigor as you begin to slowly run your tongue over her nipple, the speed of the flow increasing in direct response to your stimulation. Momentarily flicking your tongue away to lap up the milk gathering in your mouth, you swallow it down rather more greedily than you'd planned to - much as you dislike being interrupted while trying to sleep, you have to admit this is one of the better things that could have happened, and despite trying to keep things formal, it's difficult to remain unexcited when you're burying your face so close to her most intimate areas.
You're also, quite clearly, not the only one. As you get more and more aggressive with your tongue, lashing it across the side of her breast before bringing it closer to the middle to tease her nipple and feel the constant stream of delicious, sweet milk before it hits your tongue and streams down your throat, as you gulp down what you can, taking care not to spill a drop of her glorious nectar, you can feel the heat emanating from her body, and, much as she's trying to stifle them, probably considering it unladylike, you can hear her gasp under her breath as you slap the side of her breast with your tongue once again. Taking the initiative, fearing that she'll shout at you again if you don't, you begin to lightly brush your teeth against her nipple, prompting a a full on moan, before she quickly squeaks and tries even harder to remain quiet. Well, if she's going to break into your place of work and demand free service, she's at very least going to get a little hot and bothered, so you begin to try a little harder. Temporarily removing your lips from her, you move them over to cover just her nipple, wrapping your lips around them and sucking hard, before pulling back, feeling it slip from your mouth with a satisfying pop, and an even more satisfying groan. You bring up your hand to cup it, and begin to massage it, letting her milk dribble down her body and collect on the table, which you happily lick up, making sure to spend extra time on the bits soaking into her coat, even as you feel the last of her milk begin to dribble down onto you from above, prompting you to lift your head and catch it on your tongue.
As her reserves finally end, you feel her sigh in relief, and her tense muscles relax, letting herself droop onto the chair, still breathing heavily. Looking up, over her body, you notice something which perhaps shouldn't be a surprise to you - she has two breasts. Not waiting to be told, you run your tongue along her body, causing her to tense up beneath you, and lightly squeal as you run very near to her clearly excited, quite possibly candy flavoured, vagina, but that fades as you pass it by, your target made all the clearer by the white droplets peppering its surface. Bringing both hands up this time, you grab it forcefully at the same time you wrap your lips around it and begin an enthusiastic, if sloppy, attack with your tongue, timing the pressures of all three to force out as much of her gorgeous milk as possible. She may consider it unladylike, but it truly is nothing less than divine - of course, she'd consider a lot unladylike. Her moans, gasps, and screams now perfectly in time with your sucks, licks, and squeezes, both of you have stopped caring about being overheard. What's going on should be clearly private to anybody nearby. With a grunt and a snort, you feel Rarity getting slightly warmer, at the same time as your pants. Much as you're very much excited down there, you're not sure it should be getting that warm, and your fears are confirmed when you feel your pants unzipping and the button, after a moment of fiddling accompanied by an irritated grunt, slip open. She's decided to fight back, using the only thing she's still in control of - her horn. Quickly putting your efforts back into her, you cause her to lactate ever faster, sending streams of milk down into your waiting throat as the overflow spills out of the corners of your mouth, lubricating your hands, and irritating you at the lost ambrosia. They say that there's no sense crying over spilled milk, but you're fairly sure they'd never tried this.
Rarity finishes pulling down your underwear a few moments after her other teat finally runs dry, your desperate attempts to extract more from it stopping several seconds later. As she feels you retract, she angrily snaps that she certainly hopes you aren't even CONSIDERING leaving a lady waiting, as her tail flicks round behind your head, pulling you closer to the pink slit in her soaked, white coat. Much as you could probably slip free, it's far too tempting an offer to turn down, especially as her horn has now found its bearings and is beginning to rub your manhood up and down, the heat from her magic providing a unique sensation as dozens of tiny feelers work in unison. It's now your turn to moan, something she takes clear delight in. No, that won't do - it's HER that needs to be loud, here, she's the one who stormed in acting like she owned the place. With new reasoning, you pull her tail off your head, and use it to bring her closer to you, as she loudly asps and loses concentration for a moment, before beginning her assault even harder. Your tongue is tired, but its cause is just, as it worms its way through her most private regions, tasting her (More vanilla - you've never liked the taste of vanilla quite as much as you do right now, but you're pretty sure you're going to be having ice cream soon) and probing deep, her moans almost constant now as you keep your tongue moving, running up and down, taking special care to not avoid her clitoris in any way, running the tip of your teeth against it and enjoying the even louder moans - if there were a part of you not currently concentrating on the beautiful white pony in front of you, it would probably be concerned about the rest of the town hearing this. But that part of you can't ignore Rarity either. Instead it's putting its efforts into running your hands down her flank, lightly slapping her side to hear her squeal, or pulling her tail. The part of her that's not entirely concentrating on you, is instead trying to maintain its grip on your penis, as it shakily tries to pull up and down - it's not a perfect emulation of a handjob, it's about a dozen times better, her love of precision translating into dozens of separate magical forces at once. But you shall hold - your work is not yet done. She came into your office first, so she shall cum first.
Abandoning your aching tongue for now, you bring around your hand and quickly insert three fingers, shoving them in and out roughly as Rarity adds "Oh!", "Yeah!", and combinations of the two to her now limited vocabulary of moans and screams, using your other hand to lightly massage her flank and stomach as you feel all of her body start to tense up. She's close, but so are you, the tendrils around your dick contracting and expanding in time with your thrusts. It seems she doesn't want to lose first either, but you want it more. Pulling her tail roughly, you disrupt her concentration for just long enough to redouble your own efforts, quickly bringing her to the edge... to the edge... and, as the convulses around you, over it. You feel her contract around your fingers, squeezing them and pulling them, as her magic loses control, but gains power, taking you over with her. You'd be surprised if nobody heard THAT one. Pulling yourself up with your arms, you clamber onto the table to lie next to the beautiful mare, her perfect hair now lying ruffled and drenched in sweat, and her coat glistening white - just now with milk. As you get to head level, she takes your face in her hooves, and kisses you - "My Hero", she proudly states. You yawn, suddenly remembering just how tired you were, and, unable to resist, close your eyes and fall asleep in her legs.
Clip clop, clip clop, down the hallway. Two ponies. You can hear Aloe. She's bringing your last appointment here. She's at the door. Fuck.