Five Star Service - A Gentleman for Mares Tale
Chapter 7: Part 6: Las Pegasi
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By Five Stars of Manehattan
Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines
April 6 issuesEditor’s Note: We are currently compiling a list of reader questions for Five Stars to answer. If you would like to participate, please either write a letter to the editor, or for human readers, simply leave a comment on the website. Please note that only serious and thoughtful queries will be accepted. We will utilize a range of viewpoints, but any question deemed insulting or offensive will be ignored.
Signed,
Hot Topic and Kalido Tema, owner and chief editors, Manehattan Post and New York Life magazines
Dear Readers:
To my great chagrin, it would seem my sharing of Cayenne’s letter has made him both a celebrity among humans and a pariah among ponies. Whether you think good or ill of him, I would ask that everyone, person or pony please let him be; my publication of his letter was NOT an invitation to invade his life.
To my human readers, I reiterate I bare him no ill will—he was and is no coward; it took no small amount of courage to write that letter and sign his name to it. To my pony ones, PLEASE stop making him the face of failed herds and a scapegoat for unsatisfied mares. He was in fact a VERY good lover—better than most stallions and even many humans I’ve known. He genuinely wanted to do right by me and the others but was caught between an abusive lead mare and an oversized herd. Give him credit for owning up to his mistakes and know that I have every intention of one day taking him up on his invitation to visit him on Earth.
Friends and Family
Two days after the Royal Wedding and the abortive changeling attack on Canterlot, I found myself boarding a train to see my brother and sisters for the first time in nearly a year. It was an odd feeling as I traveled east, almost like I was retracing my route to Las Pegasus, walking backwards through my life. Deserts turned to mountains, then plains, then to the rich forests and hills of the east, now lush with new spring growth.
It was certainly a more scenic and less unhappy trip than my last one had been but was still hard to enjoy. Security was tight, almost uncomfortably so with royal guardsponies stationed in every car backed by at least one unicorn who knew the quickly-developed (and initially unreliable) changeling detection spell. Everypony was individually scanned before boarding and all tickets were scrutinized closely, causing delays and frayed tempers, turning a three day trip into four.
It also didn’t help that the train stopped in both Appleloosa and another certain town along the way. I found myself craning my neck out the window looking for familiar faces; I very badly wanted to get out and find my cowcolt and dentist lovers again. But I had no way to contact them and also didn’t want my poor cowcolt to think I was stalking him—he’d made clear he wasn’t comfortable with seeing me again, and I was determined to respect that.
I finally reached Baltimare four days later, which was where my four siblings lived—we grew up in Manehattan but all except for me had left the city after our parents died. My two younger sisters pounced me as soon as I got off the train and my older brother gave me a huge hug we didn’t break for several minutes—“I’ve been worried sick about you, sis!” he told me through tears (he’s a big softie and I love him for it—he finished raising our younger sisters in our parents’ stead). Even my older sister was civil as she met us for dinner, offering me a perfunctory foreleg hug and refraining from put-downs and snide remarks when I told the full story of what had happened with my herd.
When they asked me why I’d kept them in the dark for so long, my brother somewhat accusingly pointing out they’d received no word from me for months, my ears went flat and I told them the truth—that I just couldn’t face telling them. Acknowledging my herd had failed to myself or even a stranger was one thing, announcing it to those who knew and loved me was quite another. I just wanted to get as far away from the pain as possible, I explained, but the changeling invasion had reminded me of the importance of friends and family.
“Find them, hold them, tell them you love them,” Rising Star had implored us before she left for Canterlot to visit her own family. I made sure to do so, repeatedly.
* * * * *
It was a good—and needed—week in Baltimare. I made it a point to spend time with all my siblings (yes, even my older sister) but spent the bulk of my stay with my brother, a dock worker and sailor (he was the oddball in my service-oriented family; mom and dad never seemed to quite know what to do with him). We spent plenty of time together and just talked a lot. He wanted to know what I now saw for myself being between herds and starting over; I answered truthfully by saying I still wasn’t sure but believed I belonged in Las Pegasus for now.
He later asked if he could—or even should—visit me out in Las Pegasus sometime, and my response was something along the lines of, “feel free, but come to have fun and don’t count on keeping your bits!” He was a little dubious, saying he’d been gambling in nearby Antlertic City with his coworkers, but I shook my head and told him to trust me—that I’d been to both places and there was no comparison at all. He was still skeptical… until he finally did come out my way. And I’ll never forget the look on his face when he stepped off that train and beheld The Street for the first time…
But that’s a story for later. My week in Baltimare done, I bade my brother and sisters farewell with the promise I would stay in touch from there on out. But before heading back west, I had one more stop to make, taking a short detour north. I wasn’t willing to return to Manehattan—the memories and hurt remained; I knew just the sight of the city would bring them all back—but I did want to see Willow and Snow Lily again, asking them to come halfway and meet me outside of Fillydelphia.
They did so, and many hugs and tears were exchanged as we saw each other for the first time in five months. After swapping stories over a nice dinner about what happened during the changeling invasion, we caught up over drinks in the lounge afterwards, filling each other on what had been going on in our lives. Things with Cayenne’s herd were getting steadily worse, I was told, with Cayenne run ever-more ragged and Autumn getting ever-more intolerable, both towards her herdmates and towards her hotel staff in general. “She was paranoid to begin with, but the invasion made her even worse—she’s treating us all like crap or potential changelings now,” Snow Lily shook her head, adding that staff morale was falling and guest services was suffering for it.
I can’t say I was surprised, but told them that if the worst should happen, to get in touch with me—that I could definitely find them work in Las Pegasus. “It’s a very… welcoming place,” I noted, a little coyly. They saw the gleam in my eyes and sensed I’d had some fun, demanding details. So I told them about my winter holidays. They were both almost giddy when I finished the stories, a visibly wistful Willow saying she would VERY much like to meet my dentist friend, and Snow Lily listening with envy as I described New Year’s night with my cowcolt lover, demanding I send a picture of myself wearing his vest.
I did so after I got back. I imagine they got a good laugh out of it.
As my train didn’t leave until the next day, they invited me to stay with them in their hotel room that night “for old time’s sake,” but I declined. I knew it would be fun, I knew I would enjoy the sex and snuggling. But when it came down to it, that was simply not an emotional door I wanted to open again; it would pull me back and not let me move forward. My life and potential lovers were in Las Pegasus now, and that was where I belonged.
Once again, they tearfully saw me off from the train station the next morning. I was crying too—it was an eerie and uncomfortable feeling as we parted again; it was hard not to have flashbacks to the night I left the herd. But this time, I wasn’t fleeing an old life…
I was returning to a new one.
A Changed City
I came back to find Las Pegasus had changed quite a bit in my absence, and not for the better.
Much like the train ride, Security checkpoints were now present all over The Street; police and royal guardsponies stationed throughout—in all honesty, I found their presence more oppressive than reassuring—and everypony that entered the casinos or a major show or event was required to undergo a rather intrusive magical scan to ensure they weren’t changelings in disguise.
In fairness, it was not without some cause—we had learned by then there were changelings among us, including to my shock, a pair of rather popular servers I knew and had even been friends with.
Northern Lights and Moonglow, as they had called themselves, had been disguised as twin sister unicorn server mares and were known for being particular flirty and frisky, bedding a different guest just about every week. Northern Lights in particular had teased me good-naturedly about my cowcolt friend quite regularly after New Year’s, though it wasn’t until much later I got what she meant when she told me she “envied my ability to pick out loving and worthy partners,” looking quite wistful as she said it.
She and her sister vanished the day of the invasion; it was the same story throughout the city as there were dozens of reports of workers, friends, lovers, and even in some cases, spouses suddenly disappearing without a trace. All Changelings, it would seem, though we couldn’t know for certain. In the case of those two, we knew because Rising Star found a letter scroll waiting on her desk inside her magically locked and protected office when she returned from Canterlot, apparently jointly written by the pair.
Though in consternation that a changeling had defeated her anti-intrusion enchantments to gain access to her office, Rising Star shared the letter with all us, posting it on the staff bulletin board and distributing copies throughout the hotel. In it, Northern Lights and Moonglow said their real names were Aurora and Corona (thus trying to make the point that changelings weren’t just mindless, nameless drones) and apologized for the attack on Canterlot, insisting that the vast majority of changelings were no threat and would never hurt anypony.
“Why would we want to injure or antagonize those whose love we need to survive?” the letter asked pointedly, saying that Chrysallis had acted alone without the knowledge or consent of the other Changeling hives but now they were ALL being punished for it… their hives and young starving after being forced into hiding, cut off from the love that was their source of life.
There was a bitter note in their letter that came through even on ink, and their words had a grain of truth in them, I suppose. But after witnessing the changeling assault on Canterlot, we were in no mood for such protestations, and such claims fell upon deaf ears.
It was a very paranoid time, and, much like what happened to thestrels after Nightmare Moon’s return, innocent ponies ended up getting swept up in aftermath on mere suspicion of being changelings. Until unicorns deployed a hastily-developed changeling detection spell, we had no way of knowing. And even then, the spell wasn’t perfect—several dozen ponies and one or two griffins got wrongly accused, either because the spell was a false positive (it turned out eating excessive sweets, particularly mint chocolate could set it off!) and in at least one case, scan results were deliberately falsified as a form of payback by a grudge-bearing unicorn guard.
Not our finest moments as a nation or species.
A New Interest
As the weeks passed, things settled down. The detection spell was more fully developed and improved to the point that scans were much quicker and could be done to entire crowds instead of individuals, and security loosened back up as there were no further changeling-related incidents. Life returned more or less to normal as we reached Remembrance Day and the start of the summer tourist season, ponies and griffins alike standing still and observing a minute of silence to mark the armistice of our long-ago war.
For myself, I was keeping my promise and now looking for a new herd in earnest, and it was shortly thereafter a new stallion—or actually a pair of them—caught my eye: a dark blue pegasus male with a fiery red mane, violet eyes and poker-hand cutie mark named Royal Flush, and his twin brother, a red pegasus with blue mane and green eyes adorned with a two-card cutie mark named Blackjack. As their names and marks might suggest (names are destiny, remember), they ran the Mystique Poker Room and 21 tables respectively, looking not unlike the red and blue-backed card decks their tables dealt to patrons.
They were definitely my physical type—big and sleek pegasi (Don’t know why, but I’ve always had a weakness for winged males!) who kept themselves in shape, accomplished in their professions and comfortable in their own hooves. They also had a rather friendly rivalry going, occasionally sitting down to play each other in poker and other games.
I was further surprised to learn from a bartender I worked with that they had a shared herd of four mares.
Multi-stallion herds are somewhat rare but not unheard of among ponies. They tend to be more common amongst the very wealthy and very poor, for different reasons—the former because wealth makes it easier to keep multi-household herds, the latter because you need that many ponies to pay bills in a single household. I should also add that stallion births being rare and blessed events in ponydom, twin stallions are considered a gift from the sun and moon goddesses themselves; an incredible stroke of luck to the mare mother who bears them. I’ve known a couple such twins and can say from experience that such males tend to be coddled from colthood and grow up very pampered and poor-mannered for it.
Not so these two, which only piqued my interest further. They were friendly enough, stern but fair to their dealers and always remembered that their guests were there to have fun. They were generous with their comps (The Mystique buffet is to DIE for) and pleasant to their players, but woe to those they caught cheating… they weren’t afraid of anypony and had no qualms about getting physical or ejecting unruly patrons themselves, even facing down a group of drunk and rowdy young griffin tiercels that were causing trouble and harassing guests one Saturday night in mid-May.
They proved their wings weren’t just for show when they accepted a challenge to engage the male predators in an aerial duel over The Street, to the consternation of all mares present. We needn’t have worried. They took a few slashes but proved superb flyers and bested their griffin opponents in fine fashion, knocking them into the lake in front of the Buffalagio. After the humiliation of being shown in up in the air by a couple of ‘leaf-eaters’, the four tiercels never showed their faces at the Mystique again.
Stallions willing to put themselves in harm’s way are rare, I thought as I helped out with another such episode, tackling and pinning a pegasus mare who snatched some chips from a 21 table and tried to make a getaway by air (there’s a reason the ceilings are low by the entrance!), closely pursued by the pair. I think it was only then they really noticed me themselves. They chatted with me briefly, and I asked them when they got off shift—the usual prelude to a mare asking a stallion out on a date. Somewhat surprised, they appraised me for a moment—favorably, it would seem—and agreed to meet me for drinks later that night, recommending The Prancing Pinto lounge across The Street at the Palamino.
Though I found the place a little pricy (then again, what ISN’T on The Street?), I did what mares are supposed to do for stallions on a first date—bought them their drinks and let them talk about themselves. That can quickly get rather boring, but they were surprisingly interesting to listen to. It turned out they’d taken a rather… checkered past that befit their red-and-blue coats; both were former players that had once taken casinos for a ride.
“We were card cheats,” Royal Flush told me straight up. “Nopony thought pegasi could do what we did, so we got away with it for a while,” he said, pulling out a deck of cards, shuffling it in his hooves with an ease and grace that put my own skills to shame and dealing out a poker hand to the three of us. He flipped his cards face-up to show… four sevens. His brother had a full house, Aces over Jacks. And me…
I turned my cards over to find… a five-high straight flush, in hearts, leaving me openmuzzled, certain it had to be an enchanted deck—and alarms would sound if you brought one anywhere near a casino table. “No magic,” RF read my mind and assured me with a white-toothed grin that stood out sharply against his dark blue coat. “Just a lot of practice.”
“And a little sleight-of-hoof,” Blackjack added, showing his own skill by waving a wing over the table. I blinked, and the red deck cards turned blue. Seeing my surprise, he turned his wing up to show… the red cards carefully hidden and camouflaged in between his equally red pinions, a rack of blue cards nestled in his secondaries. Another wave of his wing, and he’d laid down a pair of A-J blackjacks, the cards almost perfectly matching his cutie mark.
Needless to say, I was impressed. As they continued their story, I made a guess and suggested the reason they were so good at flying, then, was because they’d had to make quick getaways to dodge pursuing pegasi and spellcasting unicorn guards.
Their grins answered for them. “But as good as we were… we got cocky and finally got caught. Casinos wised up to us and we eventually got ourselves blacklisted in Antlertic City and Neighagra”, Blackjack explained with no little pride, going on detail how they’d finally gone straight after a few stints in jail and been given a second chance by Rising Star, their employment and cleared records conditional on keeping their noses clean.
Two years later, they had. Now running the games they once ruled at, they took their greatest pleasure in finding and busting cheats—being former ones themselves, they knew all the tricks and what to look for. They didn’t play much themselves any longer, occasionally entering a poker or 21 tournament for charity or bragging rights, but that was fine with them—they were living the high life legally now and still got a healthy dose of excitement for it when they had to run down a thief or face down a group of drunken griffins. To my surprise, they then wanted to know a little about me, noting my Manehattan accent and airs, even asking me how I gained my cutie mark (story for another time, sorry!) and its meaning.
Initially, I gave them only an abbreviated version of my story, saying I’d had a herd back in Manehattan and it hadn’t worked out. But after a few drinks my lips were loosened, so when they asked why I had left, I broke down and told them the whole story of my first herd… of Cayenne, of Autumn Leaf and what had happened the day Discord returned. They both stiffened at the chaos god’s mention, falling silent and looking pointedly away from each other. Seeing their reaction I dropped the subject as well—clearly, whatever had happened to them that day, they didn’t want to remember it.
When I finished my tale, the two males were aghast and offered—no, demanded—to pick up my tab. It was a welcome gesture—stallions don’t usually treat mares like that. When all was said and done, the evening went well, and they both indicated they would like to ‘see more of me’.
As I returned to my well-appointed Mystique hotel room, I laid back on the bed, unable to believe my luck. I’d barely started looking for a new herd, and already had a pair of attractive stallions interested… and two brothers, at that? Two ex-felon brothers who were con artists and card cheats, I mentally corrected myself, wondering how far removed from that life they really were. What are you getting yourself into Five Stars? I asked myself, uncertain if they could really be trusted or were what I really wanted.
As I thought more about them and saw them a few more times, I was increasingly convinced they were. They were lookers and they knew it, not afraid to flaunt it either. I’d met plenty of interesting and attractive stallions before; even bedded a few since New Year’s, but these two… they were different. They were edgy, to borrow another human phrase. A couple of bad boys that a decade earlier my parents would never have approved of me seeing, but there was no question that was part of their allure.
It wasn’t just that, though. Much like I’d told my cowcolt over New Years, my interest in large part stemmed from the fact that unlike so many other Las Pegasi, these two were real. They didn’t hide their identity or make any apologies for their past; they didn’t pretend to be something they weren’t. That counted (and still does) a lot with me, and the fact that Rising Star had redeemed them said a lot for them well. If she thought they were at heart good ponies, there was no doubt in my mind they were.
And so, just two weeks later… I bought a pair of golden flowers from the hotel florist and presented them to the pair that night.
* * * * *
Our courtship proceeded at a slow but steady clip over the next several months. We got together for lunch, then dinner, and then I started meeting the other mares of their herd and found them a rather eclectic, but tolerable bunch.
Windfall, the earth pony slots mechanic. Cocktail, the unicorn bartender, though I knew her from my own stint as one. Bluegrass, an earth pony singer with a country voice. Madcap, a pegasus acrobat and show performer with a flair for theatrics. We had a few girls’ nights out interspersed with my dates with the two boys, and found we seemed to get along well enough.
As I got to know them, I remembered well the lessons of my previous herd—too many mares, an overbearing lead mare—and this new herd seemed to solve those issues. I quickly realized they had only a very loose herd hierarchy; there was no real lead mare and certainly no Autumn Leaf in their mix. “The only rules we have are that we share RF and Jackie equally, and that we respect each other’s privacy and pitch in when somepony needs help,” Cocktail told me.
I heartily approved of such sentiment—to me, that was exactly what a herd should be! Better still, instead of one stallion servicing four mares, it’d be two serving five with my potential addition—a much better and more manageable stallion-to-mare ratio. There’d certainly be no problems with getting enough attention from these two, I was assured; they made it a point to not play favorites and keep their mares happy. “They’re… fun…” was all I could get out of the four mares when I finally got up the nerve to ask how good the brothers were in bed, though Cocktail blushed hard as she said it. “But you’ll find that out for yourself,” Madcap assured me, giving me a knowing grin.
The foursome refused to say any more—they didn’t want to ‘spoil the surprise’ I later learned. For the time being, I took that to mean the boys were a little kinky, but hey… considering some of the things I’d done since arriving in Las Pegasus, so was I!
(Ah, Five Stars… once again, your naivety would know no bounds.)
Rising Star soon noticed my interest, calling me into her office to discuss matters and give me a bit of motherly advice about dealing with the pair (“They don’t play by the rules, Five Stars. Don’t expect them to be traditional stallions,” I remember her saying) and entering a workplace herd. It was good advice too; some of which I really wish I’d known before joining my previous one. In the end, she gave me her blessing but advised me to take it slow and make absolutely sure it was what I wanted; I think—but don’t know for certain—she had some private talks with RF and Blackjack about me as well.
So, slow we took it, trying to make sure it was the right thing for all of us… that there would be no unhappy surprises waiting upon my entry into their herd.
A Night on the Town…
It finally happened in late summer as September rolled around, and with it the Dedication Day holiday that, along with Remembrance Day in May, bookended the summer vacation season. Royal Flush and Blackjack didn’t make quite the production of inviting me into the herd that Cayenne had, but it was still a very happy surprise when it happened.
That Friday afternoon, I was called from the concierge desk on the pretense that an emergency needed my immediate attention over in the hotel atrium. And there, in front of the waterfalls, I found both Blackjack and Royal Flush dressed to the nines in expensive evening wear and wearing the flowers I had offered them, their other mares in attendance as they presented me with their red-and-blue feathers attached to a clip (in the form of a purple Mystique 500-bit casino chip!). Rising Star was there as well to give the union her blessing, looking like a mother giving away her daughter, and all activity in the casino briefly stopped as everypony’s attention turned on us.
The crowd, which consisted of both guests and staff, clopped and stomped their hooves in approval as I accepted their feathers with wet eyes and shaking hooves, clipping them both to my mane along with flowers from their other mares, who, I quickly checked and noticed, all seemed genuinely happy at my entry into the herd. We all posed for a picture with myself at the center flanked by my two new stallions, their wings symbolically flared over me as I struggled to keep my tears in check.
With that, Rising Star presented me with the key to their shared hotel suite, and announced that we’d all been given the long holiday weekend off, effective immediately. “Show her a good time,” Rising Star ordered the pair as she gave me a wink. “And treat her well,” she further instructed, in a slightly more admonishing tone.
“Yes, Ma’am…” they both grinned, though I thought I heard a mischievous note in their voices. “Well, you heard the boss. Let’s go, Five Stars,” Blackjack told me, gently urging me forward with his wing.
“Go… where?” I asked, thinking they were going to take me back to their suite to consummate the union immediately and not altogether certain I was ready for that—kind of odd considering my willingness to jump into bed with a guest, but this… well, this was commitment, and it took a bit of a mental adjustment on my part.
“Out,” Royal Flush replied with his trademark toothy grin. “I mean, all this time in Las Pegasus, and you still haven’t had a night on the town?” he said with a tsk-tsking sound. “We’re going to have to fix that, brother!”
“Agreed,” Blackjack agreed with a smile of his own. “But first… I think you’re a little underdressed, Five Stars,” he said as he somewhat suggestively pulled open my uniform vest with his teeth, giving me a quick little nibble on my neck as he did so. My breath caught and cheeks flushed at the unexpected action; it was all I could do to hold still as the pair began to undress me—wait, did he say underdressed?
Indeed. After I was helped out of my uniform—which Rising Star forbade me to wear again until my honeymoon was over—they took me over to a high-end clothing store in the resort’s shopping wing, where two rather effeminate-looking stallions (they almost HAD to be colt-cuddlers!) fussed over me, having me try on outfit after outfit. I didn’t get what the big deal was, but they finally found a glittering purple ensemble that both complimented my colors (it also helped that purple was the symbolic mixing of the red and blue coats of my stallions!) and nicely emphasized my neck and earth pony curves. Have to say, I’d never really understood the allure or purpose of wearing clothes outside of work and formal occasions (aside from my uniforms, my entire wardrobe consisted of ONE dress meant for balls and the like)… but I have to admit I really did look good in it.
And judging by how my two new herd stallions were ogling me, I wasn’t the only one to think so. Wow… who’d’ve ever thought that wearing clothes could make one MORE sexy? I asked myself as I turned from side to side, admiring myself in the mirror, noting how the high-cut hip showed just a subtle hint of flank, riding just high enough to expose my cutie marks. But that’s one of the allures of Gentlemen, I know now. Since humans are always clothed and tend to leave things to the imagination, there’s more mystery and magic about them…
There’s also the joys of undressing them, as I would learn for the first time later that night.
They next took me to the Mystique hairstylist, who added some sparkle and style to my short-cut mane and tail, including darker highlights that really drew attention to my curly locks. Lastly, we visited the jewelry store, where I was given a gorgeous diamond necklace and a pair of matching earrings, though I demurred on the foreleg bracelets. These places were expensive but Royal Flush and Blackjack paid for everything—I once again emphasize it’s usually the mares who are buying for the stallion, not the other way around! And with my eveningwear ensemble completed, we were finally—finally—ready to hit the town hard.
* * * * *
As we departed the Mystique, I felt like the luckiest mare on the planet, escorted and attended to by two gorgeous stallions. Royal Flush had said I hadn’t had a night on the town, and he was right—for all the time I’d been there, with the mild exception of Hearth’s Warming, I hadn’t really actually experienced the place… not as guest would, anyway.
It was the first time I’d really gotten to explore the city since I’d arrived nearly ten months earlier, and my two new stallions knew all the good spots. It seemed everypony and their sister knew them wherever they went, and they made sure to introduce me to them as well. Never ones to be shy, they were announcing our pairing quite loudly and proudly, allowing and even encouraging me to show them off. I’m a little embarrassed to say I did so; I saw the looks of longing and envy on the faces of other mares as we walked down The Street and ate them up. They first took me gambling down the street at the Buffalagio—as terms of their probation, they weren’t allowed to play any card games, but that still left the dice tables. I did surprisingly well (beginners luck; I won’t say different), and had a great time, leaving with a large stack of chips.
I didn’t keep them long, but I didn’t care, spending them on my two stallions and myself. Here’s a helpful hint for anypony visiting Las Pegasus—like I told my brother, you’ll have a much better time if you assume the bits you bring will be gone by the end. Spend your bits to have fun as opposed to make money, and you’ll be happy.
So it was here. We worked our way down The Street, hitting restaurants, bars and nightclubs as we went. We ate, we gamed, we drank, we danced—to be sure, it took a lot of the former before I’d do the latter—and as midnight rolled around we took in a rather exclusive show at the Grande. As a wedding present, Rising Star gave us tickets to the premiere of Silverwing, the long-awaited film adaptation of a very popular mare-oriented adventure/romance book, even managing to get us a private booth—that plus the long weekend were why the brothers chose that particular day to accept me into the herd. And everypony was very anxious to see if they got that scene right…
Considering the fact I was ready to tuck my two stallions right then and there as I watched it unfold, I’d say they did. The filmmakers brought that fantasy to life in fine fashion, and judging by the sounds coming from the booth next to ours… I wasn’t the only one to think so.
In truth, it was rather hard for any of us to ignore the sounds of fevered rutting coming from next booth over—it sounded like a pair of mares were going at it hard—and all three of us started pushing closer together, my two males showing their own excitement quite grandly as the sounds made themselves known and the scene unfolded, even moving their forelegs back to give me almost teasing looks at their stallionhoods poking out hard from their bellies.
As I studied them, I couldn’t help but laugh—even their organs were color-reversed from each other! Blackjack had a black shaft with pink mottling, Royal Flush, black spots against a pink backdrop. They were certainly well-endowed, with their shafts running at around eight inches apiece (though as I so often remind my Gentlemen trainees, it’s not your size; it’s how well you use it that matters!), and as the scene went on and I found myself looking down to see two stiff and partially flared heads staring me in the face, my thoughts got decidedly naughty.
Maybe it was the lingering alcohol in my system, maybe it was the incredibly erotic scene I was watching, maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t had a real rut in two months (I was saving myself for them at that point), or maybe it was the time of my life I’d been having with these two, but… I found myself leaning back in my seat, reaching down with both forehooves to stroke them both, taking delight in watching my two new stallions squirm and twitch under my efforts. Though initially surprised, they grinned and quickly reciprocated, Blackjack nipping at my exposed neck lightly while Royal Flush worked on my ears, all of us trying to both watch the unfolding movie scene out of the corners of our eyes while still giving our respective efforts sufficient attention. The scene ended and I stopped stroking them before either of them could come—it would leave a mess, and I wanted them fully saved up for later, after all…
For at movie’s end, it was time to head for our hotel room and consummate our union properly.
I apologize to my readers for leaving this story off here, with the just barest of teasers. But there’s a reason for it. What was to follow would become, all at once, one of the best and worst nights of my life. But both it and its aftermath requires an entire article to tell.
One thing I would like to say here, though. I’ve heard from Gentlemen that a human woman being with multiple human men is something that is generally frowned upon in human society—that the woman is often assumed to be somehow dirty or something called a ‘slut’ for it.
I can’t really say I understand the connotations of the word, but it’s definitely not the case in Equestria—what consenting adults and especially herdmates do is their own business and nopony else’s. For myself, as we left the theater a very horny trio and headed back upstreet, I knew I was about to live a long-held personal fantasy, and it’s one G4M customers occasionally indulge in as well, particularly when they’re in heat—with stallions so rare in pony society, being serviced simultaneously by multiple males is the deepest desire and most forlorn fantasy of many a mare. It’s a very dirty and decadent, heady and happy feeling when it happens… to say nothing of a very guilty pleasure, because you know on some level if you’re taking more than one stallion, you’re taking a stallion away from another mare.
However, I think things are changing… and very much for the better. The coming of humans (no pun intended) means vastly more available males to the average mare. I believe that Gentlemen for Mares is the answer to our need of companionship; a way to provide experienced male companions to mares that, otherwise, have no access to them… with no danger of disease or the social stigma of having sex with a stallion outside of a herd. In truth, it is my fondest hope that one day Gentlemen for Mares will no longer be needed, for that would mean that our company aim and vision came true: that our societies integrated to the point that it’s as normal and natural for a mare to be with a human male as it is to be with a stallion.
But until that day comes… G4M is needed and answers the call of lonely mares.