1.23 – Dairy

SuQ Dairy's milk is made by people!!!!

On the outskirts of the city was the SuQ Corp Dairy warehouse. It was near enough to the wall that if you faced it, it took up a quarter of the sky. Several wagons were in the lot and some of them had giant wooden barrels attached for transporting milk in bulk. Next to the building were two silos standing three stories tall.

Each one had the SuQ Corp logo on it, painted in pink. As did the sign by the entrance. It was a stylized heart with horns and a thin spaded tail.

There was no mistaking that this was the place. There weren't any cows, but Maple figured the actual farm must be outside the wall. A few other people were coming or going, and gave her the usual sideways glance they did from seeing a Human in their city. She ignored them.

She entered and was hit by a refreshing wall of cold air. It was the first building she'd encountered that had anything like air conditioning. She found herself in a brightly lit reception area. A man with features like Sasha's wore a tidy suit while manning the counter.

The short line ahead of her moved quickly as women signed in with little input needed from the Incubus before continuing further into the facility.

Overall, the place seemed quite nice.

"Whoa."

"Hello, Miss. Can I help you?"

He waved her over to the side of the counter, past the line. Maple gulped and checked her pockets for her ID. Still there.

"Um, I was looking for a job?"

His face brightened up, and his voice took on a refined cheerfulness.

"Oh, certainly. It's rare that we get a Human. Is this your first time? I could fit you in today after you finish the paperwork. It won't take long."

He slid over a pile of forms to fill out, along with a dip pen and inkwell. Maple had never used one before. She picked the pen up and her hand twitched toward the inkwell before she aborted the movement.

Would she look like an idiot if she asked how to use it exactly? Would she make a fool of herself if she just tried the obvious? She examined it and bought time by pretending she was just skimming the form first and asking some questions. One of the first few fields was for a referral.

"I guess it's my first time. Um, what's a referral exactly? The owner of the inn I'm staying at told me I should try here since nowhere else would hire me because of my classes."

"Oh good, so someone told you a little about us. That's for if another affiliate referred you here; they'd get a bonus for it based on your output. Same for you, if you wanted to invite any friends. Which classes? It's usually not a problem, but could I see your work permit real quick please?"

She handed it to him and his professionalism slipped for only a moment as his eyebrows raised in surprise. He didn't acknowledge it as he handed it back to her with a polite nod.

"That's quite alright with us, Miss Caraway, you don't need to worry at all."

"You can just call me Maple, uh..."

She searched for a name tag and came up empty.

"Of course, Miss Maple. I'm Maztaran. Or just Maz if you'd like."

How oddly formal still, but he was kind of cute. He had darker skin and a boyish face that made him look like he could be an idol. Not that idols were even her type—it must just be his natural charm as an Incubus that was making her mind wander. She flipped through the form and tried to keep from blushing.

"Alright Maz. Actually, I don't know what this job is even for or how much it pays or anything. Will I be milking cows or something?"

As she said that, her eyes caught on a section of the form asking how often she wanted to work. It ranged from once a week to daily, with the more frequent options including a warning.

"Cows? Haha. Pardon me, but I think you might be mistaken about something."

Maple pinned the pen flat against the counter and looked up at him. He must have sensed her unease as he chose his next words carefully.

"Miss Maple, there are no cows here. And the 'employment' we offer might be different from the kind you're thinking of. If you become an affiliate with us, you have the freedom to choose the days and hours you want to work yourself, and you get paid based on your actual contribution. It's a much more fair exchange for both parties, compared to being paid by the hour."

She blinked at him. He was dancing around the issue. To her right was another woman signing in on a sheet. Now she saw how massive her chest was, and realized the others' had all mostly ranged from large to massive as well.

A bead of sweat dripped down Maz's face. His mouth moved twice in false starts. He seemed eager to convince her, but couldn't quite work out which combination of words would do it. Maple had a thought.

"Do you get paid a commission or something too if I sign up?"

"Ah, that is—Ahem. I do, yes."

"Okay. So where does the milk come from, Maz? And—eugh—is that where all the milk in this city comes from?"

She'd had it at the inn. Breast milk—from people. No wonder it tasted different. Why hadn't anyone mentioned that? Especially Sasha, curse her.

"I can see you're bothered, but I assure you it's perfectly safe and healthy. Affiliates like you, or Betty here, sell their milk to us, and we then process and distribute it both locally and all over the continent. Our pasteurization process ensures there's no risk of disease, and it's no different than if it had come from an animal. If you'll just give me a moment to convince you, then I'm sure—"

Maple processed her disgust while he spoke. Maybe not disgust, but discomfort with the idea at least. She didn't want to become some kind of Human cow. At least not if grown adults were going to drink it. Maybe if she were selling it for infants with mothers who couldn't breast feed themselves. That would be normal and fine.

"Nope, sorry. I didn't know what this place was. I don't want to sell my milk."

'Betty' turned toward them and decided to chime in. She looked like some kind of cow Beastkin, almost like a Minotaur, and that was kind of interesting. She could have been a variety of things though, so Maple didn't assume. When she spoke, her voice was almost grandmotherly.

"It's really not so bad, dear. You don't need to donate so often that you end up with something like these."

She lifted the massive blobs on her chest up an inch before blushing and glancing away, self conscious about it after all. Maztaran looked appreciative of the support.

Betty cleared her throat and continued.

"It's very easy, and if you just stick to twice a week you won't have any permanent changes. There's no pain or anything, and the private rooms are always clean and comfortable. I've been coming here for, oh, going on eight years now and I've never had any problem whatsoever. I would highly recommend it."

Maple didn't have anything to say about the glowing review.

"Well, these babies won't milk themselves. Good luck to you."

Betty, always happy to help, nodded to Maztaran and Maple. She continued on her way and the clacking of her hooves echoed behind her.

"Um, yeah. I'm gonna go. Thanks though."

Maztaran didn't try to stop her, but called out as she neared the door.

"Feel free to come back if you change your mind! Ask for me!"

"Gimme something strong."

That made twice in the same day. Sasha looked surprised and didn't immediately pour a drink this time.

"What happened now? They shouldn't have had any issue."

Maple glared at the innkeeper for a moment and tried to decide if it'd been some kind of prank. Her face was entirely neutral.

"You didn't tell me it was that kind of job."

"What kind? It's not a sex thing just because your tits are involved, if that's what you mean, Maple. They have private rooms."

Maple crossed her arms. She thought about it on the way back, but hadn't been able to come up with a rational argument against it. Instead she ended up comparing it to donating plasma, which, broke college student she had been, she'd done several times before.

It was weird though.

"Yeah but—and you didn't tell me the milk here came from people. I thought it tasted different."

"Did it taste bad?"

"No, but..."

"Then what's the problem? Where should it have come from? Just cows? Goats? Why make it so arbitrary? People are at least able to consent to having their milk taken. Sorry, I guess, but you didn't ask. And you were so open-minded about everything else that it never occurred to me that that was what you'd finally have an issue with."

Maple grunted and unfolded her arms. Sasha spoke as if she were behaving like one of those bigoted Humans she'd heard so much about here. She wasn't—she just couldn't quite accept it. Nor would she be drinking milk ever again unless clearly labeled.

"How about just an ale? Dinner?"

"Sure. Not yet, I'm waiting for Emma to get back. Wait—does that mean cheese comes from people too?"

Sasha rolled her eyes while filling a mug.

"Yeah? Cheese is made from milk."

"Aw man. That's so gross though."

"How is it gross?"

Maple grabbed the mug and tried to formulate her thoughts. Even if the milk was from a non-Human person, it was still gross. It would be gross to drink a Gnoll's milk, or even a that cow lady's. Betty.

At the same time as she was thinking, that loud bulky guy from yesterday sat down a few seats over. Pops, he had said to call him. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck left and right. His skin was damp with sweat.

"Phew, what a day. The usual, Sash. What's gross?"

"It turns out she's one of those animal-milk purists. I didn't know that, and sent her over to SuQ Dairy because she's looking for work."

Sasha answered while mixing up his usual drink. Maple looked up, ready to defend herself, but Pops just laughed.

"Ha, that so? My wife used to do that. Good bit of side gold. I can half-relate to that take, though; I don't like any milk. Upsets me stomach. What makes an animal's milk so much better?"

"Because...Isn't it weird to drink someone else's bodily fluids? It'd be like drinking their sweat."

As the words left her mouth, Emma poked a hole in Maple's argument without even needing to be there. But that was just because they were in a relationship.

Pops tried to wrap his mind around her words, and then just shrugged and took the drink Sasha passed over. He chugged half of it before slamming the mug back down onto the bar.

"Well, it's all milk to me. Nothing wrong with having preferences, though."

Sasha wasn't satisfied with that and turned to Maple.

"Why would drinking an animal's bodily fluids be any different?"

Ignoring the obvious like disease, which that Incubus had already addressed—she couldn't say. Drinking an animal's almost sounded grosser when she put it that way.

Pops eventually pushed the conversation past it.

"If you're looking for work, we always need more [Lumberjacks] and [Woodsmen]! Or, [Woodswomen]. [Lumberjanes], come to think of it. I suppose the exact term don't matter that much."

"Look at her. She's no brute like you."

Pops shook his head, and downed the rest of his drink.

"I've seen gals smaller than her out there, tough as nails they are. You can do anything with the right mentality."

Maple laughed and politely declined becoming a [Woodcutter]. Maybe if she got desperate, but otherwise she really wasn't built for it.

Emma walked into the inn and joined Maple at the bar. She immediately melted and had to use Maple's body as support.

"Whoa, you look exhausted. Don't push yourself too hard, okay?"

Emma rubbed herself against Maple and then pulled out her notebook to a pre-written message.

Is that a dick in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?

"Oh my gosh, stop you weirdo."

Maple laughed and covered the page before anyone else could peek at it. Emma grinned at her Human's reaction and thought herself very clever. Sasha raised an eyebrow at the two, and then smirked as she remembered something.

"Ask her how her morning went later, Em. Oh and I'll be working until midnight tonight, so you two know."

Maple knew what that meant, but she would have to explain to Emma in private after dinner.