True Elegance

by SFC Ponycron

First published 13th of March, 2012

A birthday tradition of hanging with friends in a gentlecolt's club leads to a startling surprise...

A 2nd-person Sensual Fanfiction

A birthday tradition of visiting a gentlecolt's club for drinks with friends leads to a birthday present you would never have expected. Not even in your wildest fantasies...

Rated [Saucy] by the Sensual Fiction General's rating system for moderate to heavy horn-play in a heavily suggestive adult setting.

Cover image by the talented John Joseco (http://johnjoseco.deviantart.com), used with his permission.

Chapter One: Stepping into The Rough

Our birthday is coming up, little brother. The colts and I want you to come back to town for the weekend and party with us ‘till the cows come home. I know you prefer to keep to yourself over there in quiet little Ponyville, but I’m sick of hearing Mom and Dad wondering how you’re doing. You might as well just come over, tell them yourself over dinner, and hang with your brother and his angelic, non-troublesome friends.

Let me know as soon as you can whether you can spare some time. It’d be good to see you again. Getting into trouble just isn’t the same without my little brother there.

Hope to see you soon.

-- Tungsten Ring

P.S.: ‘Sharp Twirl’ says hi and hopes you can come by this weekend. She said she misses you.

*-----*-----*-----*-----*

You fold up the letter and place it back into its envelope with your magic, sighing with a knowing grin. Angelic, my back left hoof, you think. You like hanging out with me because you know I could pretty much weasel us out of trouble. You look up and adjust your glasses with the tiniest amount of magic as you approach your destination: Carousel Boutique.

You pause in front of the door and take a deep breath before knocking.

“Who is it?” Rarity calls out from behind the door in a singsong voice. You hear the door click before it swings away from you, revealing a stunning snow-white unicorn with an expertly curled purple mane. Her eyes widen and she smiles broadly, trotting up to you.

“Darling!” she calls out as she wraps her forelegs around you in a hug. “What brings you here? Do you need an alteration for one of your costumes?” She turns and trots towards the main room of her boutique.

You shake your head. “No, Rarity, the costumes are fine.” You sigh. “I just dropped by to tell you that I’ll be out of town this weekend."

“Oh? I heard from Pinkie Pie that it’s somepony’s birthday this weekend.”

You grin nervously. “Yeah, well, my twin brother sent me a letter, inviting me home for my, er…our birthday. I couldn’t be there last year, and I don’t want to disappoint this year.” You lower your head. “I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head casually. “It’s fine, my dear. Family is always important. Where does your family live?”

“Over in Manehattan,” you reply. “We lived in the quieter side of town.”

“Is that so?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve heard that the ‘quieter’ side of Manehattan can get very rough if you’re not careful.”

“Oh, my brother, his friends and I got into a few little scuffles back in the day,” you say with a shrug. “We never did get into anything too serious. My brother always got me to smooth-talk us out of trouble.”

She tilts her head and gives you a small smile. “Did it work?”

You can’t help but feel a small wave of warmth rush up to your cheeks. “Well, my folks didn’t name me Silver Tongue for nothing.”

She winks. “So it would seem.” She looks back at the marequin, but not without catching something going on beneath her eyes, as if she’s planning or waiting for something.

“W-would you like to...”

She gently presses a hoof to your lips. “It’s a family affair, my dear. And from what you’ve told me, your brother and your old friends will take up your time this weekend.” She kisses you on the cheek. “It’s fine, darling. You go and have fun. I’ve got friends, too, you know?”

*-----*-----*-----*-----*

“Hey-hey! It’s Silver!”

“High-ho, Silver! It’s been way too long!”

Hoofbumps and heavy hugs abound as you and your brother’s old friends crowd around you. A hug from one of your friends nearly knocks your black fedora off your head. You use your magic to right it.

“Thanks, guys. It’s good to see you guys again.”

“We were wondering when you would show up. Marz was getting annoyed waiting for you.”

“Had to spend time with the folks,” you say. “Wasn’t able to see them last year.” You grin. "Besides, I had to look good."

“Yeah, well, the folks weren't the only ones missing you, little brother,” your brother says with a grin. Being older by a couple of minutes, though shorter in stature, you don’t mind being called ‘little’. “The girls missed you.”

“Ahh, I’m sure you guys had fun without me,” you say.

Your brother, a silver-grey stallion with a black mane with a silver stripe, grins knowingly. “Oh, no. Like I said in my letter, Sharp Twirl was hanging around us all night wondering where you were.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Candy Cane was also asking about you, too, you charmer.”

You blow a small raspberry as the eight of you walk down the empty Manehattan road. “You’d think that you’d have picked something up from me by now.” You look over your shades at your brother and raise an eyebrow.

“I’ve tried my hand at sweet-talking. Sultry Step just laughed and said to leave the talking to you.”

Marzipan (or Marz), a rust-red earth pony with a tan-colored mane, laughed out loud. “Ha-ha! You should have seen the look on his face! He looked like he was going to cry!”

The others laughed, while Tungsten made a mock sour face. “At least I tried, Marz. Let’s see you try to schmooze your way to Fiery Tango.”

Marz shakes his head. “Nope. I leave all the talking your brother. I prefer to have a pretty mare come to me if she wants my time.”

“You’ll have to wait a long time, then, Marz,” you say with a chuckle as you and your group reach a building with a bright pink neon sign over its double doors. The neon lights were shaped to outline a female earth pony, pegasus and unicorn. Underneath, the words ‘The Rough and Tumble’ burned into your vision.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Suave and his entourage,” the bouncer, named Brick Wall, says with a grin. “Haven’t seen you ‘round our neck of the woods in a while. Where ya been?”

“I work in Ponyville, now, Brick,” you say. “I drop by when I can.”

“Which isn’t too often, these days,” Tungsten cuts in. You shoot a glare his way and the bouncer laughs.

“Go on in, boys.” He picks up the velvet rope with his mouth and tilts his head to the doors. Leading your little group of friends, you turn your head towards them with a devilish grin.

“The night starts now.”

Chapter Two: Finding the Diamond in The Rough

Chapter Two: Finding the Diamond in The Rough

A disco ball spatters spots of white light all around the club as you are stopped by a stern-looking male unicorn wearing a white shirt.

“Hold still, Silver,” he says. You can tell he’s only feigning seriousness from a faint twinkle in his eye.

“Fine, if I must,” you say as he walks around you, his horn glowing. You pretend to be impatient as he finishes circling you.

“Happy birthday,” he says with a ghost of a grin and tilts his head towards the main seating area. As you step aside and let Tungsten get searched, you take in the scene before you.

Colts and stallions (and more than a few mares) crowd around tables, each and every one riveted on the scene unfolding on the elevated stage. A slender unicorn mare with two-toned electric-blue hair is gripping a pole around a foreleg and spinning around it, a coy smile on her face and a sultry look in her eye. The song playing in the background is one you’re not familiar with, but the mare onstage is dancing to it well.

“It’s been a while, Silver.”

You shake your head, snapping yourself out of your reverie, and come face-to-face with a cream-colored unicorn mare with freckles and an orange-red mane. She’s wearing a white shirt collar with a red bowtie, and her cutie mark is a martini glass with a crescent moon in it.

“Martini Shake,” you say with a wink, “it’s been too long.”

She winks back at you. “Too long. Should I get the guys to clear a spot for you?”

You shake your head. “I feel like sitting back this time, ‘Tini,” you reply. “Maybe a couple of tables closer to the stage?”

“Sure. Anything to drink?”

“Something special from you,” you reply with a wink of your own.

She giggles and gently nudges you back with a foreleg. “Always the charmer,” she says as she turns towards the bar. “I should warn whoever manages to finally nail you down that you’re nothing more than a smooth-talking rogue.”

“She knows,” you say with a smile, “and she’s still interested.” You glance behind you, and the unicorn bouncer nods as he finishes searching the last of your group. Turning back to the stage, you realize that the mare (lying on her stomach and shuffling her upper body backwards, hiking up her well-shaped rump) is definitely familiar.

“Waitaminnit,” you say as Marzipan walks up to you. “Isn’t that...?”

“Yeah, it’s Allie Way, the pro bowler,” Marz replies, “but here she’s ‘Seven Ten’.”

You look at your friend, eyebrow raised. “Oh, really?”

“She’s gonna be in high demand tonight,” Tungsten says as he walks up beside you. He looks around the floor then points a hoof. “Look. ‘Tini’s cleared up a couple of tables.”

You look where he’s pointing and nod as the waitress waves you over. You and your friends head over to the table, stealing a glance at Allie Way as she leans back on the pole and seductively slides down until she’s sitting on the stage.

“Shake, a bucket of Garronitas, please?” Marzipan asks.

“Sure,” she says. She looks to you. “Still want that something...” She waggles her eyebrows. “...Special?”

“You’re a waitress tonight, Shake, not a dancer,” you answer, “but if Gibson’s invented a new drink, I’d be willing to try it out.”

She sticks out her tongue. “Bucket of Garronitas it is, then,” she says before trotting off. You turn to the stage as a new song starts up, and ‘Seven Ten’ sidesteps from one side of the stage to the other. One of your other friends, Thresher, a deep green pegasus with a black mane, taps you on the shoulder.

“What was that you were saying about a filly interested in you?” he asks. “You never mentioned it to us.”

You turn your attention from the dancer just as she seductively leans forwards against the pole, staring down at the stallion right in front of her.

“I met someone in Ponyville,” you say simply. “She makes dresses and, at my request, stallion’s wear and costumes.” You grin smugly. “She’s drop-dead gorgeous, too.”

“What’s her name?”

You shrug. “Guys, I don’t want to make a big deal out of it. All you need to know is that she’s interested in me, and I’m...”

You let your voice trail off as Martini Shake arrives with the promised bucket with seven bottles of beer stuck in ice, a lime wedge in the mouth of each bottle. Marzipan picks up his money pouch and flings it on the table. He sorts out enough bits (with a nice tip on the side, you note) for the drinks and gently pushes them towards the waitress. She flashes you all a smile before she leaves.

“I think I’ve fallen in deep, guys,” you say hastily as you turn from the stage to address your friends. “She’s gorgeous, she’s generous, she’s sophisticated, charming...”

Your brother is all smiles as he levitates a bottle of Garronita from the bucket, taps the lime wedge into the bottle and takes a long drink.

“...What?”

He nods. “Oh, I agree,” he says. “I can tell you’re in it up to your ears because you actually turned away from the stage.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Thresher says with a wide smile, his eyes on the stage. “And Sharp Twirl’s had her eyes on you since she got up there.”

“What...”

You turn to see Seven Ten still up there, once again lying on the floor of the stage, her attention riveted on the drunken patron staring at her. They’re literally nose to nose as the song starts to end.

Tungsten snorts and starts laughing, and immediately the others join in the laughter. You can feel a blush rising in your cheeks, and you steal Thresher’s bottle as he’s about to drink from it. He continues to laugh rather than pout as he takes another bottle from the bucket. “I’ve got next round, guys.” He waves towards Shake and points to the bucket, still with five beers in it. You see her roll her eyes and nod as you hear the DJ’s voice from the speakers around the stage.

“All right, fillies and colts, let’s hear it for Seven Ten!” Mild applause ripples through the crowd as she winks, levitates a pile of clothing from one corner of the stage and leaves. “Let’s give y’all a breather before we bring up Sharp Twirl!”

“Looks like we got here just in time, eh, Silver?” another of your friends, a blue unicorn with a snow-white mane, asks.

“Shut up,” you say with a smirk. You glance over to see Tungsten grinning.

“A spot just cleared up at the stage,” he says, pointing at a just-vacated chair in what’s deemed ‘Pervert’s Row’. “Go for it.”

“The guy’ll be back,” you say as you shake your head and take another drink of your beer. Martini Shake comes back with another bucket of beers and a tray with four shot glasses.

“Thanks, Shake,” Thresher says as Tungsten moves the bottles from the first bucket to the second.

“Thanks, Tungsten,” she says as she lays the tray down and levitates the ice-filled bucket.

“What are those?” you ask.

“It’s a shot named after the owner of the club,” Martini Shake replies. “Gibson’s under strict orders to only make these when the owner asks. She’s kinda weird like that.”

“Wait, the owner of this place is a mare?” Marz blurts out.

“Nothing wrong with that, is there?” she asks, offended.

You jam a hoof at Marzipan’s mouth before he can say anything else. “Nope. Nothing’s wrong with that. Marz and I just expected the owner to be male. I mean, weren’t you surprised when you got the job?”

Shake just rolls her eyes. “Anyway, the owner asked Gibson to make four shots. You and Tungsten get two shots each, on the house.”

You and your brother stare at each other blankly. “Hey, I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth. Tell the owner I said ‘thank you’,” he says.

“Same,” you say as you levitate the shot glass and examine it.

“No prob.” She glares at Marz briefly before leaving. You set the shot glass down and turn to your brother, who just knocked back one of his shots. He shakes his head and lets out a breath.

“Good stuff,” he says. “Try it.”

As you levitate the shot glass to your mouth, the entire club goes dark.

“What the hay...?” you hear Thresher exclaim over the rest of the crowd. A spotlight suddenly flicks on and points at a lone chair right in dead center of Pervert’s Row.

“Silver Tongue, your seat has been vacated,” the DJ calls out.

“The hay...?” Marz says. You glance back at your friends before lifting your beer and shots up with your magic and moving to the illuminated seat.

“Fillies and gentlecolts,” the DJ calls out. “As a special gift to one lucky colt, as well as to you all this evening, may I present the owner of our very own Rough and Tumble, for a one-time only appearance...”

The first words of the next song start up and you can see the shadow of somepony stepping onto the stage.

I pick all my skirts to be a little too sexy
Just like all my thoughts they always get a bit naughty...

The DJ’s voice booms like that old-time fight announcer.

“LIQUIIIIIIIIID CRYSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAL!!!”

...When I’m out with my girls I always play a bit bitchy
Can’t change the way I am
Sexy Naughty Bitchy Me...

A boom shakes the entire club and every light pointed at and around the stage flares on, blinding you for a second. When your vision returns, you see a face you never thought you’d dare see in front of you in a gentlecolts’ club. Her normally-curled mane and tail are straightened and look like they were just doused with water, some of her mane falling in front of her eyes, the rest framing her face. Her eyes are half-open and staring at you, dark with desire, and the smallest teasing smile is on her lips.

Sparkling blue shoes cover her forehooves and lace up the entire length of her forelegs. A silver choker lined with tiny diamonds is on her neck, and a single blue diamond-shaped gemstone rests comfortably just underneath her chin. Her flank and cutie marks are covered by a flowing, shimmering purple skirt the same color as her mane that seems to split at her tail.

“Oh. My. Celestia.”

Without bothering to use your magic, you pick up one of the shot glasses with your teeth and knock it back. You shake your head and look back up to the stage. Her smile only seems to grow wider and she winks at you in a ‘come-hither’ fashion. Her name is a whispered sigh on your lips as you look her over again.

“Rarity.”

Special kudos goes out to Youtube user 'FluttershyElsa', whose Rarity PMV to the above song gave me the initial inspiration to write this. I do not own the songs used.