Slam.
“I’m home!”
C# yelled out into her nearly unfurnished, dark apartment.
“You here?” The holstaurus allowed a moment or two of silence to tick by before releasing a relieved sigh and dropping a duffle bag containing her work clothes onto the floor of the long hallway that stretched her entire apartment. Brushing her wet hooves against the welcome mat, she took a quick left and jumped onto the empty couch her living room, not bothering to flick the lights for the dark living room.
C# laid back and quickly closed her eyes, hoping her exhaustion would quickly save her from a long night of tossing and turning in her sweltering bedroom. After a couple of long minutes listening to traffic and seeing visions of passing by headlights she opened her eyes and turned her head, looking at dim room, lit only by the ambient light of the city.
Like the rest of the unit, the walls were covered in yellowing wallpaper decorated with the silhouettes of dark flowers. Across the largest stretch of wall was a giant diagonal stripped patch of wallpaper, ripped away by a long absent landlord who promised to be back to finish the job and paint the walls. Of course, he never returned and weeks of nagging calls from her and her dwarf roommate never yielded only empty promises of a return sometime in the distant future. Contemplating turning on her small TV, C# again wondered how she got here
---
C# came from a large and prosperous family of rural holstaur. Fourth of five sisters, C# was born with a very unfortunate trait- despite being from a renowned family of large breasted holstaur producing the best milk in the region, she herself barely managed a C cup. Pathetic by holstaurus standards, let alone her own family. This combined with her only average looks, a death stroke for most mamono, earned her the status of the ugly duckling of her hometown. While her sisters were off making her family farm a fortune and nabbing any boy they pleased, C# was stuck with hopeless crushes and a feeling of deep uselessness.
It was an everyday occurrence that C# would return from a day of school to walk onto one of her sisters being ridden by a classmate or boyfriend. When trying to produce milk herself, only to squirt out an ounce or two before being subtly dismissed by her mother, whose sympathetic reassurances only deepened her sense of failure.