"Sometimes you need to be forward. Sometimes you need to take what you want. Sometimes, it’s not the nice ponies who win, but the ponies who make an effort even if it’s a bit rough and coarse. Don’t be afraid to charge ahead when pursuing your herdmates. Nopony can expect happiness to just fall into their laps. Sometimes… you have to throw caution to the winds and grab what you’re after and make sure to never let go."

I girded myself for the horror that soon awaited me. Standing in front of the sickly adorable and fanciful business known as Carousel Boutique made ,e wonder just why I was torturing myself like this. It was just so… girly and uptight and altogether haute couture. What could have possessed me to ever think this was a good idea?

Then I remembered that unless I started to go commando, I was going to need someplace to get underwear.

I tried free-balling once and it was not nearly as invigorating or breezy as my friends insisted it to be. Especially when I wore anything that was tight in the lower areas or made from rough fabric. Fuck did that shit chafe something fierce!

One thing rarely mentioned in any movies where the characters were displaced into populations of non-humans was how fashion was not exactly universal. How do you swap clothing between a normal humanoid and a multi-armed badger with legs half the size of yours?

And unfortunately for me, I’d lost a good portion of my clothes to a mysterious fire that’d had originated in my laundry room, more specifically the lint trap of my dryer, not even a few days prior to me being sent to Equestria.

I didn’t know the thing had to be cleaned out every wash! I’d always assumed it was more of a weekly- monthly- whenever the lint bunnies started rebelling and had to be massacred at the source thing!

Luckily for me, ponies more or less shared my body structure. As long as I looked for clothes in earth pony style, I was already halfway to an acceptable collection. Shirts were easy enough, and even pants were good if I got ones a couple sizes too big, strapped on a heavy-duty belt, and slapped some patches over the tail-slits (though they still itched like a mothereffer after a while). Of course, there was the slight problem that shoes seemed pretty much non-existent in this world, and unless I got into the habit of nailing metal or rubber to my feet, my current couple pairs were going to have to suffice until I got a few more made.

Curse my lily-soft, squishy, fleshy, and all-around weak-baby-man soles!

No, the real crisis for me was what I put on underneath all the other stuff. I’d taken a gander at the mass-produced drawers at the local superstore and had come to one sad, sad, not-so-surprising conclusion – the phrase ‘hung like a horse’ was just a fact of life here.

Not that I was going to attempt to compete with humanoid ponies in that department. I was pretty average myself (shut up, I totally was) but compared to the average stallion, there was just a little too much… ‘wiggle’ room in there, not to mention some weird extra strips of cotton that went up and above the waistline. What the hell was that even used for…

FUCK HORSE ANATOMY AND ALL IT ENTAILED! Never again, Wikipedia desktop! Never again would it darken my browser history with that utter bullhocky!

So yeah, I needed underwear, and my best bet was to ask this Rarity chick if she could help me out in that regard. I hadn’t had the chance to meet her yet, as she’d been out of town for about a week during my initial drop in to ponyland. Apparently, she’d been visiting this small-time fashion show in Neighlan (fuck these ponies and their horse puns) to gain some inspiration.

But now she was home, available, and brimming with ‘ideas.’ Purple pone had given me a minor warning about the fashionista’s proclivities towards high-class society, even though she had insisted that the mare was a generous and gentle pony. I knew the type – always looking to inject some culture into the cultural wasteland known as their backwater hometown. Probably had a snooty attitude towards anything lowbrow and a posh accent to match her pretentiousness. Oh, I was not looking forward to this.

Still, if it meant keeping my jubblies happy and comfortable, I could brave some bitchy bullshit.

Confident that I would survive the endeavor (if with a few new scars), I opened the door to the business and walked in. A tinkling bell announced my entrance.

“Just a minute~” a feminine voice trilled. Already, the voice fit with what I’d been told – self-assured and flighty with a mid-Atlantic accent (or ‘Canterlotian’ or whatever upper crust was in this verse).

While I waited, I examined the premises. The decor was just as over-the-top inside as it was outside (why did anyone need so many ribbons and so much satin and crushed velvet?) and screamed of overcompensation and probably histrionics. There were a lot of clothes, some finished, most in half-completed states. With my amateur eye, I couldn't tell if they were good or not, but they did seem like they were at least properly made. There were a variety of mannequins of all sizes and pony types scattered around the edges of the large showroom, some of which sported clothes with pins stuck all over them.

And then there was the most majestic fluff cat licking its paw on a raised dais and pillow in the corner. Its eyes roved over me and, deigning me not even worth the effort of a condescending sneer, went back to cleaning itself

Oh hell, I was dealing with a designer version of Blofeld, wasn't I?

As if answering my internal screams and whimpers, the voice’s owner flounced into view, decked out in the kind of airy, billowy dress that reminded me of Hollywood starlets from the 50's and 60's (and her figure honored their memory well). Okay, so at least this pone had some concept of good taste. Though that purple mane and tail was way too curled to not need gallons of hair gel to keep it so bouncy.

The alabaster white unicorn trotted daintily up to me, working into her spiel. “Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where every garment is chic, unique, and magnifique. How may I help- oh.” Her eyes widened slightly as she finally recognized I wasn’t her normal sort of customer. “You must be that mysterious visitor that dear Twilight mentioned.”

“Yup,” I snarked, giving my name. “I’m the newest weirdo here.”

She frowned for a moment before sliding her smile back on. It reminded me way too much of every customer service worker I’d ever seen. What, did I put the emphasis on the wrong syllable or something? “Well, I am Rarity, owner and proprietor of this fine establishment.” Her eyes closed as she gave a polite curtsy. “Charmed to meet you.”

“Uh-huh. Look,” I said, deciding to just jump in and get it over with. “I’m sure you want some sort of song-and-dance number for introductions but I don’t really care enough. I need some clothes, and Spergle said you were the best around. So can we just get to it?”

She glanced at me, her eyes introspective and judging. I was certain I hadn’t garnered any brownie points with the unicorn, but frankly, I was currently trapped in a furry’s wet dream and I was all out of fucks to give. Another smile flashed across Rarity’s face, though this was less artificial and also less… accommodating. I didn’t like the dark twinkle in those bright blue eyes; they reminded me way too much of when Twilight had been demanding ‘samples’ from me.

“Yes, Twilight did warn me that you were lacking a certain degree of decorum and manners. Though I suppose it could be excused given your unfortunate circumstances.” She brought a hand to her chin and gave me the once over. “Besides, I can appreciate a stallion that is straightforward with his wants and desires, even if he acts like quite the rapscallion.” Her fingers snapped. “Very well! Let us get down to entrepise.”

Rarity turned on her hoof and walked over to a desk covered in binders and notepads. She pulled out a drawing pad from underneath a roll of fabric and started to sketch something on it, mumbling to herself. She flicked her gaze at me as she talked. “Here at Carousel Boutique, every work is custom-made, perfectly oriented to what the customer wants and needs. What exactly are you looking to procure?”

“Mostly everything from the waist down.”

Her eyebrow raised as she glanced over my t-shirt. “Hmm, yes, you do seem to have your upper body in working order, though I can’t say much for the taste.”

Yow, little miss fashion had claws, did she? I knew my taste in fashion wasn’t exactly well-put, but then again, this was a person/pony that seemed to live for making clothes. Eh, I could at least give her that much. “Yeah, don’t have to worry about that. Pony legs are weird, though, and you don’t even seem to have the concept of ‘feet.’”

“I assume you are referring to those apparatuses that Twilight called shoes?” she said, pointing at said apparel with her pencil. Her muzzle scrunched up in mild disgust. “Tell me, do all ‘humans’ prefer such a garish color scheme and overblow design in their wares or are you just the hopeless exception?”

“They’re sneakers,” I rebutted. “And they’re more for comfortability than look.” Well, okay, maybe marshmallow pone had a point in how tacky my sneaks were. The things looked like a rainbow had vomited on them, but hell, they were on sale and I had to choose between brand shoes and eating for the week.

“Yes, well, I’ll take your word for it. I suppose it’ll be a challenge for me to see if I can suitably create a new type of slipper for your species.” Her tone may have been dismissive but I saw her eyes studying my shows, dissecting them, her pencil a blur on the pad. Despite her words, she was overtly fascinated by them and clearly had something percolating in the back of her brain. “I’ll take some measurements later. Anything else?”

“Human needs pants badly. Underwear would be great as well.”

“I see.” She continued to draw, flipping a page over to start a new one. “I understand it might be breezy without a tail where the pants want it. Anything else? Your hips appear to be less defined than a stallion’s. Any catches? Sliding? Chafing?”

“Like you have no idea,” I muttered to myself. Involuntarily, my stance shifted as I put more weight on one leg. My movement caused her to lock on something south of the border. Her pencil stopped scratching

Rarity’s lips quirked. “Ah, of course. The one thing all stallions have to be concerned about. Tell me, is the problem too little space… or too much?” I tried to but I just couldn’t help the twitch that shot through my cheek. Her smirk deepened before I could say anything. “Too much, then.”

“…I feel like I should be insulted but then I pretty much served that to you on a silver platter. With a little bow and everything.” I flipped a little salute. “So… touché.”

Rarity tapped the pencil against her cheek. Her voice had a slight lilt and tease to it. “Ah, and a stallion that knows when he’s been bested. Perhaps there’s hope for you after all.”

“Yeah, yeah, so? Can you help me or not?”

“Of course I can help I, darling. It would be a great disservice to all fashion pioneers everywhere if I surrendered the chance to create clothes for an entirely new species. Why, I can already feel the flow of ideas springing forth from the well of inspiration!”

She giggled and suddenly I was blasted by the image of a young girl all aglee with the chance to put all the clothes on her new doll. Hopefully I wouldn’t get shoved into a dress like the last time I dealt with a clothing clerk.

I knew I had great gams but damn it, that hemline was too short!

Soon enough, the sparkling terror of obsession left Rarity’s face and she turned to pick up a binder from the desk. “Now, let us move onto the discussion of payment.” She licked a finger and flipped through the book. “I am quite willing to give you a discount seeing as anything me create for me will be the first of its kind and therefore may have some defects and kinks that will need to be worked out, but if you are to be a repeat customer then the sales shall end up quite hefty.”

I winced. For someone who always shopped from clearance and bargain bins, the idea of paying more than absolutely necessary for clothes was not a pleasant idea for me. “How bad are we talking here?” I asked, reaching for my wallet.

“Well, darling, you are asking for a full wardrobe of customized clothing. It will not be cheap, but you will be receiving the best the fashion world can offer you.” Her eyes looked at me from over the top of the binder and they narrowed into a slight cant. “Much like their maker.”

I ignored her taunt at the realization that I had forgotten to take something into consideration. Something very important, something that I really should have thought about before I even approached the designer in the first place.

The fuck was I supposed to pay for this?

No, seriously, I had maybe forty bucks in cash on me, and I was pretty certain that US dollars wasn’t a viable form of currency in ponyland. The cheap-ass pants I’d gotten for testing was due to the very small collection of bits Twilight had pity-given me, and those were already pretty much depleted.

I didn’t have a job, so how was I going to buy all these new clothes? Shit did I need to start using my brain for things that were relevant for more than short-term survival mechanisms.

Rarity noticed my frozen expression and posture and came the same conclusion far sooner than I (depressingly belatedly) did. “You don’t have the bits to pay for this, do you?”

“…I don’t suppose you work on credit?”

She shook her head, her eyes pitying. “I may be the element of generosity, but I still have a business to run. I cannot waste time and money on a venture that will not bring me dividends in some manner. And with how you’ve explained it, it will be quite the expenditure for me. It is a pity, but I will have to put your orders on hold until you have the wages to pay me.”

Ah fuck, I knew I was going to be a charity case but then again I never really considered just how it may affect the ponies I was mooching off either. Course they had their own bills and shit to pay. Hell, I was lucky that pink pone had wasted so many ingredients to bake that welcome cake for me; it was the only consistent source of food I’d had since I arrived here.

…Maybe I should have used some of those bits to buy some groceries before I wasted them on ill-fitting pants. I really needed to work on my planning and life-hack skills.

Resigning myself to the fact that I was going to be wearing my clothes through a much more considerable rate than usual, I politely (for me) bid the unicorn goodbye and made my way for the door. I was stopped when the mare called out.

“Actually, Nemo, darling…” she started, the binder now floating in the air from her magic. Rarity stepped around me, her hooves clacking on the wooden floor, and gave me the once-over. “I believe I have a proposal that will benefit the both of us.”

“And that is…?” I prodded suspiciously. Once again, I didn’t like that expression. It was too… predatory for my taste. Then again, beggars (which I very well could soon be) couldn’t be choosers.

“I might be willing to comp you a few outfits to help you start out if you just do me a tiny, itty-bitty favor in return.” At my hesitant nod, she continued, her smirk growing. “You see, I have been looking for a model to help me test out how my works fit. It would behoove both of us if you fulfilled that role.”

I saw how that could work out but a couple (out of many, many) things bothered me. “Don’t you already have, like, a ton of mannequins to do that for me? And didn’t you say I’m already a bit off from ponies?”

“Every pony has a different structure, dear, so making some small alterations won’t be too much of a challenge,” she waved off. “And you fail to grasp the advantage having a model with smooth and full articulation would give.” She chuckled deeply. “Though they are a bit more vocal when stuck. So… do we have a deal?”

I gave it a thought. On one hand, pseudo-free clothes; on the other, my ass was hers – quite literally in this case.

Ah fuck it, not like I hadn’t made deals heavily tilted not in my favor before. I was relatively positive I could outrun the girl if it came down to it, especially if I cut through a mud puddle (or dozen). She was totally the kind of lady who would huff and puff and go into fits if even a speck dirtied her.

“Yeah, sure, you got a deal, Rare.”

Her eyebrow quirked. “A petname already? How forward of you, and so early in our partnership. I do hope it wouldn’t be too shameful of me to ask if we could start right now?”

I shrugged. I didn’t have anything better to do.

“Very well then.” Her horn lit up with blue energy.

The room spun into a mass of controlled chaos and sewing tools. Caught in an azure aura, the mannequins were pushed to the sides of the room and the sounds of sewing machines revving up in one of the back rooms ignited. Following suit, bolts of fabric and rolls of ribbon and thread circled around the fashionista like birds of prey, and I could almost hear the jaunty tune that matched their motions.

So caught up in the marvel that was frickin’ magic all around me, I almost didn’t notice the small tug on my waistline. I looked down to see that same blue glow infuse the bottom of my shirt and belt and then snapped my head back up to stare at the only possible perpetrator.

Yet again, that dark and mad spark in her eyes shined, perfectly at odds with the clear blue of her irises. A measuring tape floated down to her hands, and she gripped both ends before snapping it taut with a loud crack. Her mouth split wide open into a ghoulish and hungry grin.

“Wahaha! Excellent! Now… strip.”

As the inside of my shirt clouded my vision, I could only think of one thing –

Goddamn fucking crazy ponies.

I arrived at Carousel Boutique with a stiff upper lip and paranoia seeping through my very veins and marrow. If the past two dates hadn’t already given me enough to freak out over, I very much doubted this one was going to ease my frayed nerves any more than they were now.

It didn’t help that I was most likely about to go on a date with the admittedly scariest mare of all I’d met since coming here. Rarity had the kind of personality that always managed to throw me off balance – a self-serving individual who never hesitated in going after what she wanted at the expense of common sense or foresight, but also one of the most giving and charitable ponies I’d ever met who’d literally given the tail off her ass to someone in need.

Paradoxical chicks always confused the hell out of me, particularly when they were also bombshells of a woman who knew their charm and had no compunctions with abusing it. It was a rare occurrence when I left an encounter with the fashionista without losing something of value, whether it be monetary, intellectual debate, or dignity.

The hyperbolic mare had a tongue like a barbed-tooth whip and used it to full effect on any that displeased her, rendering the poor sod a quivering lump of jelly and despair.

…I liked that in a girl. I’d never tell her though; giving her any indication of her superiority would only make her even more insufferable than she already was.

Still, just because I was heading over to her place of business didn’t necessarily mean that she was going to be my date for the night. Maybe I was just picking up a set of clothes that would impress one of the other girls and I couldn’t even finish that line of thought without laughingly kicking it into a broken pile of submission.

Like Rainbow or Applejack would ever willingly change into anything that would fulfill Rarity’s entitled sense of propriety. The moment either of them wore a formal evening gown to anything that wasn’t a full-blown diplomatic event was the moment I sicced the town guard on them for being changeling spies here to sap my toxic love.

Twilight may have been an honorable mention, but I also doubted that she would expose herself so soon in this wretched debacle. Probably saving herself for last while I was too emotionally and physically drained to fully protect myself.

So nope, Rarity was my next date and I was dreading just what the foppish pone had planned for me.

Walking up to the front entrance, I noted that the sign on the door had been flipped to closed. Strange given that Rarity often kept the place open till late at night, always willing to take an order from her adoring clientele. Then again, if she was going on a date with me, she very well couldn’t keep the business running while she was gone. Figuring that, I rapped my knuckles on the door.

“I’m sorry, but we’re closed!” her muffled voice answered from within, that customary trill whimsically intertwining her words. “Please come back again tomorrow!”

“Rare, it’s me,” I shouted back.

There was a stampede inside as her hoofsteps rushed to the door. The door was flung inward, the white unicorn filling in the gap. She seemed more than a little out of breath and flustered, her normally perfectly coifed mane several strands out of place and in disarray. She smiled brightly and brushed a bouncy lock of purple to the side. “Darling, it’s so good to see you!” She leaned forward and pecked/nuzzled both my cheeks in her usual bombastic fashion before beckoning me in. “Come in, come in! I’ve been waiting for you to arrive.”

I walked after her, closing the door behind me. Rarity walked over to her front desk, a full sway to her hips as her tail followed suit. My eyes dipped down a little too much, taking in the curve of her full heart-shaped ass through her skirt, before they snatched back up, just in time, too, as she turned back to face me, leaning lightly on the desk. She raised an eyebrow, coquettish in appearance behind her red-rimmed reading glasses, and pursed her lips, clearly waiting for me to say something.

I gathered myself up, swallowing some spit to moisten my suspiciously sudden dry throat. Ah fuck, I’d only just got here and already I was on my last nerve. “So, I’m guessing I’m here for our date?” I hated how I sounded so unsure when I said that. Rarity would no doubt jump on such an obvious vulnerability.

Unexpectedly, she didn’t, though her puckered mouth did slide to a bemused curl for a moment. “Yes, indeed,” she said, raising the back of her hand to her mouth. She gave a proud laugh that would not be out of place in noble society. “You have the incredible honor of taking me out on the town tonight. I do hope you recognize this stroke of good fortune for what it is. Most stallions would give their left arm for such an opportunity.”

I took her grandstanding for what it was, a good-natured attempt to draw my sarcastic ire to the forefront and calm my nerves. I did not let her thrown bone go to waste.

“I don’t know,” I smirked, feeling more at ease now that I was back on more familiar ground. “I’ve been in pretty high demand lately. Two dates in as many days and a bunch more planned. And they’re all pretty fantastic to look at. Really, I think you’re getting the better end of the deal here.”

Rarity pushed off the desk and stalked towards me, her hooves purposefully stepping ahead of each other in what I recognized as the same kind of walk used by runway models. Seemed she’d picked up a thing or two on her many fashion expeditions. She stopped not even a foot from me and bent down, looking up at me through her eyelashes.

“Ohh…?” she crooned, her eyes lidded. “You proclaim to be more in demand than this lovely and fashionable mare? I do believe somepony has a rather high and mighty image of himself.”

I chuckled unabashedly, returning her teases shot for shot. “Says the mare who constantly wants to get into my pants and more often than not rips me out of them.”

“That’s only to put you in your rightful place, my dear.” She tapped the very tips of her fingers on the bottom of my chin. “Where else would you belong but with my mark imprinted on you.” Her eyes twinkled and teeth nibbled on her lower lip.

…Fuck.

I pouted and swung my head to the side. Sighing, I scratched my temple, eyes refusing to acknowledge how thoroughly she’d trounced me in a battle of wits again. “Fine, fine, you win again. Damn it, Rare, can’t you ever go easy on me once?”

She giggled and fondly patted my cheek. “Ah, my dear Nemo, you simply make this too easy for me. You really must work on your verbal riposte if you ever intend to best me.” She giggled cutely, a loose sound rare for the usually debonair mare, at my sulking. “Though I do fervidly await your next attempt~”

Much like Pinkie, Rarity was an unrepentant flirt. She never surrendered the chance to get me, or any other guy for that matter, hot and bothered under the collar. Unlike Pinkie, though, she was also just as big a cocktease, willing to rev any man up but then also leave them eternally hanging for a sultry event that would never come. If there was any woman that would take advantage of their inherent femininity and appeal, it was her.

Rarity was the type of girl that would have you chauffeur her around town, carrying bundles of goods that towered to the sky, and make you glad for the chance to be her mule. She never did anything directly – always hinting, always giving the quick flash of leg or subtle wink, just enough to give you hope, that maybe your hard work would be sexily rewarded – and then shattered your preconceptions with the kind of ease and appreciation only a woman who knew manipulating the male mind was more a game, an art, then anything else had.

No wonder she had, perhaps unintentionally, strung Spike along for so long. It was like she knew no other way than to be just a big old classy ball of courtesan-style allure. She certainly broke through my apathy defense enough with it.

Of course, it helped that she was a genuinely nice person to be around. Being a tease only worked if she had the affable personality to back her up when she wasn’t sending my hormones into overdrive with a lazy touch. Though prone to taking everything too seriously and huffing off, she had a quick wit and burning passion for her work and friends. Even if I didn’t understand a good ninety-nine percent of what she was babbling about, it was kinda endearing whenever she went into a tangent on stitching patterns or the latest popular styles.

Seriously, what was it about ponies and their sparkling eyes whenever they were into something that made them so adorable to watch?

Finding myself calm enough after Rarity’s latest flirt-sault, I cleared my throat, giving her the signal that I was ready to continue. “So, now that you’re done with emasculating me yet again, what’s going on? How will I ruin tonight’s date?”

“Oh, you could never ruin our date,” she proclaimed. Her eyes narrowed irately. “I wouldn’t let you.”

“…you scare me, Rarity.”

“Good~ First rule of taking a lady out – always know that she’s in control. Trust me, it’ll make everything so much easier for you.”

I laughed. “Fine… So, milady.” I pretended to take a hat off my head and swept into a deep bow. “What doth thou have fashioned for us tonight?”

Rarity answered with a curtsy, raising her skirt up past her knees and giving me a nice view of her toned legs from my lowered stance. She had to be doing this on purpose; there was no way miss proper was granting me such a show without planning to use it to her future advantage.

“As you wish, milord. You will take me out to dinner and a show at a newly opened venue in the Eclipse district. You will be polite and cultured, and if you are not, I will be very cross with you.” She punctuated her promise with a threatening glare, though it was ruined by her tail curling around her to tickle my face. She laughed when I sneezed while still making sure I didn’t get any snot on her luscious locks.

“Now then!” She waited until I was upright again and led me over to a clothes rack. On it was a single suit garment bag. She plucked it off the rack and handed it to me. “Change into this.”

I peeked a glance. “Really? We’re doing this, too?”

“Second rule – fulfill a lady’s desires as though they were your own.” Rarity smiled and ran a finger down the bag and winked. “Seeing you in this suit will be a good starting gift for me, especially as you didn’t think to even bring me flowers to our date.” Her tone stated she was not happy with my lack of foresight and dating etiquette.

I paused. “I was going to but the flower sisters thought I was there to eat them and locked me out.”

She effortlessly saw through my impressive fib and clicked her tongue. “Try again, darling.”

“…I’ll make sure to bring flowers next time?”

“Now you’re getting it. Do well tonight, and I may not have you wear anything on future ones.”

Wait, was she implying there’d be more dates?

…and that they’d involve being naked?

Goddamn this mare.

Rarity ushered me through the store, breaking me from my wandering thoughts (and delusions), and pushed me into one of her many changing stalls. Glad with how she'd corralled me away, she shunted the privacy curtain partially closed. Half turned, her figure clearly presented itself to me in all its wonder. “Now then, be a good colt and put that on. I’ll be changing as well to match.”

I glanced over her, silently appreciating the long pencil skirt and dress shirt that molded to her form. Unlike the other girls, Rarity was as close to a classical beauty as one could get. She was of average height for a unicorn, very similar to any human girl you’d find back home. She wasn’t substantial in her goodies like Applejack, Pinkie, or Fluttershy; wasn’t small like Twilight or Rainbow. Her proportions were much closer to that of a traditional model (ironic given her career), a commendable compilation of subtle curves. She wasn’t heavily endowed, wouldn’t make the hounds howl for her full moon, but she had a modest hourglass shape, a pert beginnings of a bubble butt, and toned parts that still triggered the ugga-ugga in my caveman brain. Also, I’d seen her ass in a bikini once; the mare did not put her yoga and spin classes to waste.

A lascivious smile rolled across my face. “Really? I think you’re looking pretty good already.”

“You rogue.” She rolled the ‘r’ like the best of them. She lightly slapped my shoulder and tittered. “A lady never reveals her best at first. You must earn it. Besides, I can’t let you outshine me, now can I?”

“It always comes back to that…”

“Oh hush now.” Rarity blew a kiss and fully shut the curtain, leaving me to myself.

Figuring that I may as well get it over with, I unzipped the garment bag and pulled out its contents. I was both stunned and yet not by what I saw. This wasn’t the first time Rarity had made me formal attire – that was when she’d dragged me to one of Twilight’s social events after she’d ascended to alicornhood – but it still amazed me whenever I witnessed the masterpieces she’d sewn.

An emerald-green three-piece suit stared back at me, along with a pair of argyle socks and meticulously shined dress shoes placed on the bottom of the bag. I knew pretty much next to nothing about mensware besides if it was washer-friendly, but even I could tell that this set had a ton of love and care poured into it. I couldn’t see any stitches where they should’ve been, and each piece – from the shirt to the jacket to the pants – looked like it had been sculpted from a single piece of fabric, like it was folded into some weird fashion origami.

The fabric was too smooth to be wool or cotton but too sturdy to be silk. Seriously, what kind of witchcraft had the unicorn performed to make this outfit. I was suddenly scared a demon was going to pop out and demand my soul in recompense for the deviltry that had certainly occurred.

Meh, I’d just point it to the nearest lawyer and run in the opposite direction. Maybe Celestia’s oversized doggy would save me before it dragged me off to hell.

I quickly changed into the new clothes. I wasn’t even the least bit surprised that she’d even included a pair of purple briefs with the suit. Of course, she would; crazy mare had to make sure I knew who owned my ass for the night. I debated for a minute whether or not to exchange the pair but I just knew she would know if I wasn’t wearing the entire set, so I sucked it up and slipped on the admittedly snug pair of undies. The rest of the outfit followed until I found myself stuck at the most frustrating part –

How the fuck did you do a tie again? No, seriously, there were like half-a-dozen different ways to do so, all of which were mashed together in my memory, and I didn’t need to set off miss anal’s sloppy detector.

Figuring it’d be better to just ask my jailer at the source, I walked back into the main room, fumbling with the white-and-green striped tie. “Hey, Rare, need some help here!”

“Over here, darling!” I heard her voice, and saw her silhouette, from behind a collapsible divider and quickly headed over. “What is it~?”

Grumbling pettily to myself, I made my way around the edge of the divider. “Can you help me with this tie? Damn thing won’t…” Whatever I had left to say died a miserable and gurgling death in my throat.

The slayer of my articulation rose in the form of Rarity’s naked back. Pure as the fallen snow and curved like a swan’s neck, it shone in the lighting as Rarity reached behind herself with one arm, the other one holding up her dress to cover her breasts. She perked up at my appearance.

“Ah, wonderful, could you help me zip my dress up? I can’t quite reach the seam.”

My eyes trailed down her back, skimming over the dimples, to where her tail swished back and forth. Just above it I could make out where the zipper came together. Her fingers barely brushed up against it.

“Darling, stop drooling and help me out here.” Her delicate eyebrow was raised, but I was much more mesmerized by the generous portion of sideboob her undone dress and lack of bra revealed. “Or must I remind you how to treat a lady?”

I shuddered and resisted the urge to slap myself to break out of my funk. Didn’t mean I couldn’t say stupid shit instead of doing it. “Can’t you just use my magic?”

She scrunched up her muzzle. “Shut up and do it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I hesitantly grabbed the zipper and pulled it up. Again, I shuddered at Rarity’s barely audible pleased moan-nicker as I tightened the seam right up to just below her shoulder blades. As soon as I finished, I jumped away like the mare was on fire. My hands shook and buzzed at the textural memory of her fur on them.

Rarity stood up, running her hands up through her styled hair and giving it a testing bounce. It swirled and curled, concealing the remainder of her now much more covered back but still leaving a tantalizing strip of white to peek out. She turned around, placing one finger on the corner of her mouth, the other hand on her slightly stuck-out hip, and smiled teasingly.

“Well, how do I look?”

She looked… gorgeous was too common a term, but it was the best I could come up with on such short notice. A fresh coat of makeup had been applied – dark blue eyeliner, pitch black mascara, and dark ruby red lipstick. I almost never saw the fastidious mare without makeup of some sort, but this time seemed especially… thorough. She had several necklaces of various designs and materials – gold hoops, pearls, silver chain links – looped around her neck, each jingling and bringing attention to her slender neck and throat. They matched the opal earrings on each perky ear. Her hair had an extra twist added in the form of a long, wide red ribbon, placed ever-so-lopsidedly so that it hung just to the side of her head and trailed along her shoulder and dress.

And the dress, oh gods above and below and wherever else that fucking dress…

The dress I had so achingly helped her with was a rich burgundy and shimmered in the light as though many fine jewels had been sewed within. It reached down to mid-calf, but I saw so much more of her leg thanks to the long slit on one side that ran far enough to her hip that I would’ve sworn I saw the edge of her cutie mark. Oh, and the sheer amount of cleavage (and dat tuft) granted by the strapless and mildly backless gown only enhanced the image of pure sex in front of me.

Many were the times I was speechless, but this was one of the more scarily-frequent-and-disturbingly-recent few that were caused by something not even close to being in my control.

Rarity’s smile deepened and she placed a hand below my chin, closing my mouth shut with a clack of teeth. “Careful, dear, you’ll catch flies like that.” She traced her fingers down my throat and to the tie that dangled abandoned around my neck. “Now, let’s help you out with this.”

I silently watched her fix my tie, not trusting my voice at all. If I even tried to talk, I would only say something unknown, incomprehensible, and more in tune with the elder gods of yore and madness.

I caught a whiff of Rarity’s perfume. It smelled of vanilla and butter cream. But it was mixed with something else – fresh soap and clean linen.

Rarity finished with the knot and tightened it so that it barely touched my throat, rubbing against my Adam’s apple. She gave it a satisfied pat and beamed up at me, that familiar twinkle in her eyes. “How’s that? Better?”

“…Better.”

Fuck that squeak toy stuck in the back of my throat. The actual date hadn’t even started yet and I was already a complete mess of hormones and fear.

…Oh gods, what was she going to do with me when it officially began?

Rarity’s giggles as she flounced away to pick up her purse did nothing to soothe my anxieties. The extra sway in her hips and tail and flickering of her ears only made it worse.

Was it too late to write up a will?

“Come along, darling, or we’ll be late~!”

Fuck. Yes. Yes, it was.

I hitched my messenger bag over my shoulder, feeling its contents shift around inside. Lucky for me, my deliveries for the day weren’t anything fragile or high-priority, so a little jostling wouldn’t do them any harm. Then again, one of them was for miss freak-out herself, so maybe I should be a little careful so as not to gain her ire.

Delivering packages was just one of the many odd jobs I did all over town. Considering I didn’t have a butt tattoo that spelled out my life’s purpose for me, it was hard to find one thing to settle on, but I didn’t mind. I enjoyed the freedom picking and choosing the random tasks I did, and not having to do one thing meant I didn’t have to deal with the same nosy coworkers for too long.

Sure, that just made me more otherworldly and strange in the eyes of these tight-knit and homogenous ponies but, then again, I never really cared what they thought about me to begin with. Idly, I wondered if this is how that witch doctor that lived in the Everfree felt. Zecora was an okay kind of chick, but damn did her iambic speech pattern get on my nerve after a while.

My freelancing for the post office was my main purvey for the day, and I was already at the tail end of it. Only a few more stops and I would collect enough bits to feed my booze addiction for the night! I was going to need it, especially since the next day was another of Twilight’s ‘study’ sessions. Urgh, could that woman drill into my soul with her nonstop barrage of questions.

Speaking of mares that wouldn’t leave me alone even on the wrong end of a clue-by-four, my next stop was lady fashion herself. Surprising enough, I had swiftly gotten used to the over-the-top sight of her establishment. I kind of had to - with the amount of times I stopped by to either pick up clothes or act as her living pincushion, it was either adapt or go into an apoplectic fit of manly disdain for, ew, ruffles.

The tingling of her bell announced my arrival, but I doubted anyone could hear it over the fierce and yet subdued arguing going on in the building.

I quickly found the source of the tension. One of the dueling half was, not shockingly, Rarity, the white and purple mare standing behind her front desk with an expression and posture that all but screamed politely-pissed-the-fuck-off. I didn’t know why she hadn’t throttled the cause of her strife already (she certainly had no problem with me) but she seemed to be doing her utmost best to hold her cultured façade up. One ear threatened to break her veneer, the single appendage twitching back and forth like it was trying to swat away a particularly stubborn horsefly.

The other half was a unicorn stallion I’d never seen before, an oddity as Ponyville was the sort of small town where everyone knew your name whether you wanted them to or not. The way he was dressed only added to the assumption that he wasn’t from around there. With a mane slicked back from copious amounts of oil or pomade and a suit with enough frills to choke a hydra, he looked like your classic city-slicker noble. Strange, as those kinds of folks never came down from their ivory towers in Canterlot to mingle with the common folk.

So what was he doing here in Ponyville? And what had he done to piss off marshmallow pone so badly? I might have to ask him later for pointers.

Seeing that neither one had noticed my arrival, I snuck around the curve of the room to see if I could listen in on what they were talking about. Hey, if Rarity didn’t want me eavesdropping, then she shouldn’t have forced me into that monstrosity she'd called an ascot. I’d been hacking out glitter and pink for a week.

Besides, the gossipy mare didn’t have much of a leg to stand on when it came to rooting out juicy rumors on matters she had no right sticking her snout into.

I was only a few feet away, hidden behind a cluttered mannequin collection, when I finally managed to make out what they were saying.

“Look, Lady Rarity, I don’t know why you’re being so adamant on refusing this proposal. It’s quite the beneficial deal for the both of us.” The stallion’s voice sounded just as slimy as his hair looked. No wonder Rarity did not look like she was enjoying listening to the guy. I doubted I’d get through a full paragraph before wanting to punch him on general principle. “I just cannot see why you continue to pursue such an illogical course.”

“And as I’ve told you, Lord Pincher,” she said, a not-small amount of vitriol and steel laced in her words. “I feel that, while your offer is indeed generous, my services and business would be best suited kept under my full control and operations.”

“Come now, my dear. Surely you can see that your works would only be put on the wide-spread display they deserve with my help.” I almost heard the grind in Rarity’s teeth at his attempt to play to her vanity.

Ooh, bad move. If there was one thing that Rarity hated more than not being appreciated for her industrious work ethic and tireless efforts at improving her craft, it was being hollowly flattered for same said work. She did not take kindly to being buttered up if it was only a means to an end.

Unless you was just messing with and/or teasing her, then she would just titter and effortlessly curbstomp you in a verbal smackdown or dramatically faint away with the vapors (while also pulling a chaise lounge out of her ass).

Rarity could be all kinds of fun when she wasn’t harassing me about my ensem-bleh.

Rarity’s eye twitched. Her tail whipped behind her and then settled down, the occasional snap the only indication of her temper. She gave a facetious laugh. “And surely you, as the upstand gentlestallion you are, can understand that when a lady says no, it is only polite and proper to bow to her wishes.”

“Even if said lady is quite clearly ignoring the advice of her betters?”

She went still. Her voice was cold and deadly. “I do hope you consider your words before you continue this train of thought, good sir.”

“What train of thought? I simply worry that living in this small hick town and alongside its inhabitants has poisoned you and your judgment. After all, I cannot believe that a mare so ingrained with the politics of nobles could be so blind to the consequences of working against the grain, my dear.” He used Rarity’s trademark use of the word like a battleaxe against her, a weapon of venom and curses.

Urge to punch – overwhelming. Desire to make him eat his own mane – rising. Why’d I have to leave my dumbass exterminator (aka a flat-head shovel) at home?

“I would very much thank you not to speak of my neighbors and friends that way,” she whispered. “They are good ponies and need not listen to such salacious words, especially from upright citizens that know the meaning of noblesse oblige.”

Oh shit, she was being extra polite and using high-falutin’ vocab. I wondered how much my grave digging skills had atrophied. I had the distinct feeling I was going to put them to the test very soon.

Pincher leaned on the table. I couldn’t see his face, but I imagined the smarmiest, smug, and oh so elbowable smirk on it. “Then perhaps it would find it in your best interest to take my offer up before certain and more reputable… others bring to bare that the name Rarity Belle is not nearly as important as the masses may think.”

There was a crack of wood and plastic. Rarity had destroyed a clipboard with a single hand, the crunched splinters scattered on the table and floor. Her face was on the verge of fury, her lips even paler than normal and eyes threatening to shoot lightning. Angry horse noises intensified. “You wouldn’t dare.”

His tail wagged. His voice grew even oilier as he added on the pressure. “Do not think to demand anything of me, my lady, less you want to see all that you struggled to build fall to pieces around you. The name Penny Pincher is not a title or brand to be trifled with.”

…Okay, I’d had enough of this shit. I very much doubted Rarity needed any rescuing or white knighting - this was the same mare that’d cowed a pack of diamond dog slavers into submission. If this PP-ass knew at all what he was he doing (or anything about the mare he was threatening), he would be preparing for the inevitable counterattack instead of relishing in his all-too-soon-to-be-celebrated victory.

If it was me, I’d brace for the soul-blazing tongue lashing or dainty hoof right up my crack that was going to happen in the next nano-second or so.

Also, Pincher was threatening a national hero and personal friend to the country’s four princesses. It was like standing off against a panzer with a rubber band gun and expecting anything other than a gruesome, karmic, and chunky salsa demise. Still, Rarity had been holding herself back for a reason. Maybe he could cause her some modicum of harassment; I didn’t know how influential this fucker was. Still, even if he was nothing more than a thorn in the mare’s side, there was one line he shouldn’t have crossed.

You never fuck with a man’s tailor, especially one that could design pants that intentionally caused atomic wedgies.

Hypocritical, you may say, to claim there’s no need to white knight and then immediately do so? Fuck that shit, ‘hypocrite’ was my middle name!

…shit, I wished that was my middle name. But no, it had to be another fucking pun.

So with absolutely no thought on how to diplomatically handle the situation, I Kool-Aid Manned my way through the mannequins. The models exploded every which way as I barreled through them, arms held up in a guarding position, and leapt into the middle of the room.

“Oh Yeah!”

My dynamic entry may have been tarnished a bit by how I tripped over one toppled mannequin and faceplanted on the floor, coincidentally getting groped by one very handsy doll, but I totally picked myself up in a cool fashion and got into an impressive and intimidating brawling posture.

Both ponies jumped at my sudden appearance. Rarity’s anger drained away to befuddled shock. “Nemo! What are you doing here? How long have you been here?”

“Being a voyeur. And for the last ten minutes or so.” My bluntness made her shock smoothly move to annoyance, the best kind of look on the snooty mare’s face. If I looked closely enough, I might’ve even seen the wrinkles forming at my ludicrous actions.

My attention wasn’t on her; it was on the stallion who’d been bullying her business for some quick cash. I almost did a double-take at his appearance. He had a handlebar mustache, the ones that you’d see on the same type of villains who tied damsels to railroad tracks, and a godforsaken monocle on one eye. What, was he trying to emulate every clichéd bad guy since the emergence of cartoons? Just slap an eyepatch on the other one and the impression would be complete.

“Hey, fuckface,” I barked, sticking a finger out at Pincher. “Stop threatening my tailor. If you piss her off, I’m the one that pays for it.”

He reeled back as though he was witnessing something truly disgusting, his nostrils flaring. “Oh my word!” he gasped like a complete fop, fishing out a handkerchief and putting it to his snout. “What on Terra is that thing? Some kind of diseased monkey?”

“I’m a human, and you’re bothering my personal clothes maker. Now piss off before I throw your rude ass out.”

Pincher looked me over, his eyes analyzing my form. Something clicked, and his eyes grew dark and twisted. He turned to Rarity, his face caught between disdain and smug glee. “You make clothes for this… creature? The famous Rarity, the rural belle of Canterlot, personal tailor for this disgraceful and shocking abomination? My lady, what would the others think that you’re beholden to such a salacious and rude oddity?”

Panic flared in the mare’s expression. I didn’t know what anxieties had suddenly reared their ugly heads but my appearance had only seemed to embolden them. “Lord Penny Pincher, I can assure you that-“

“Assure me what, my dear? That the mare so keen on currying favor with her betters would not think her association with such a creature could have unfortunate afflictions on her reputation?”

“That is, I mean I, I mean to say that he-“

Okay, this was not going at all how I planned. My gallant entry was supposed to have cowed the dastardly knave into submission, forcefully ejecting his noxious presence with his tail between his legs and hopefully with some soiled britches to boot. Instead, all I had appeared to have done was bolster his cocky demeanor and set off some nerve bomb in Rarity.

I might not have known how pony politics worked but I did know when I done fucked up. So, the only thing me could do was fall back on my immense experience in dealing with pretentious asshats and take the one course of action that never failed to expunge them from my sights –

Talk out my ass like a snake oil salesman trying to sell some schlub the BrooklynBridge.

“Um… Lord Slickback, there seems to be some confusion here. Rarity’s my personal tailor because she was ordered to be.”

Pincher glanced at me, his expression disbelieving. “Oh really?” His voice came out like a snake ready to strike at the smallest hint of weakness. “And who exactly would that be?”

I caught Rarity’s eye and smiled. Her eyes widened and she made a gesture as if to cut me off but I continued unabated. “Who else could order one of the elements, dumbass? It was a royal decree.”

His eyes twitched and he cleared his throat. “Really, and I’m expected just to believe some thing I’ve never seen before?”

“That’s cause I’m the only one of my kind here. Frankly, I’m an endangered species. And if you don’t believe me, you can go ask the princess in this town. I’m Princess Purple’s personal pet project, prick.” Oh yeah, combined alliterative threat, insult, and bullshit for the win. “I’m a spectacle in this town. You can ask anyone.”

Rarity tittered at Pincher’s questioning gaze. Her spirit seemed to gain ground at my relentless and shameless fact-spinning. She put a hand to her lips, a curl forming on them. “Quite right, darling. Why, I would say that causing you grief has ruined quite a few lives that shall not think to ever do so again.”

She wasn’t bluffing there. Though that was less retaliation from the royal guard and more my own twisted sense and desire of balancing the scales of those that wronged me. I could be a vindictive bastard.

Like right now, in fact.

“Did anyone ever find out what happened to Keen Note after he kicked me out of his store? I haven’t seen him since that strange noise violation at his home.”

“I don’t believe they have. There were rumors that he went to visit his family upland but no one ever saw him leave town. Strange, as he was always quite vocal whenever he went on a trip.”

Pincher looked much less certain in his position than before. Sweat appeared on his brow as the possibility that he’d just pissed off the one individual that had connections to those he could never hope to reach or bend to his will. I was counting on his wild delusions; made it easier for me.

“You, you’re bluffing,” he stuttered, clutching at straws in the face of my joint counterattack. “Not even the princesses would pull rank just to protect some lowly and primal oddity.”

“Uh, why wouldn’t they protect their property?” I questioned, folding my arms in front of me with a look that just screamed exasperated bemusement. “I’ve got the brand and everything to prove. Hurt like a bitch when they took the iron to my ass.” I nodded at Rarity. “I didn’t even know they still did that shit in this day and age.”

“It was quite popular during the classical era to mark beloved items with their sign,” Rarity explained. “With Princess Luna coming back to power, it’s not unexpected that there wouldn’t be some fallback to more familiar traditions.”

“Knew that nag had something to do with it.” I started fiddling with my belt, unbuckling the latch. “It’s pretty wicked in any case. You wanna see? S’like they mixed all their cutie marks together with the dankest death metal album cover.”

“T-that’s not necessary! Perhaps if I just-“

“Naw, don’t be embarrassed!” I interrupted. I focused all my attention on getting my pants off, whipping the belt off and flinging it carelessly to the side. The sound of my fly unzipping echoed through the now deathly silent hall. “You seem like the guy who needs to take in all the evidence before he believes in something. Hold on one sec, this pair is always so damn tricky to get off. Ah! There we go!”

My trousers hit the floor with a muted thump. Triumphantly, I tilted my head up only to find no Penny Pincher and one very amused if brightly blushing Rarity. “Huh, where’d Lord Shitstain go?”

Her mouth parted into a round ‘o,’ she broke from her daze and snapped her mouth shut. Rarity fanned her face with one hand, giggling softly at the absurdity of the situation. She let out a couple brazen chuckles until her flushed face settled down and she was more prepared to talk. “He…” She broke out in one very unladylike chortle-whinny before clearing her throat and put her fingers to her chin. Her eyes closed as she composed herself. “He said something about needing to run to an important meeting and galloped off.”

“Oh, too bad.” I shrugged and put my attention back on Rarity. All mention and memory of the past dozen minutes flew from my mind as I set myself back onto my duly appointed task. “So, I’ve got a delivery for you. Ya mind signing for it so I can get out of here?”

“Perhaps it would be wise to don your pants again, darling.” Rarity seemed mildly embarrassed at my dropped-trou state, though she refused to look away even as she scrabbled for a quill. I absently noted she did not tear her eyes from my figure while her hand skimmed across the desk, looking for its prey. Yeah, I knew I was all flavors of awesome.

“Uh, Rare, you see me with less on all the time.”

“Yes, but that is when we’re in a professional environment and I’m taking you measurements. A young stallion half-naked in the same room as an unwed mare in which anypony can enter could lead to loose lips spouting off ideas they do not know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know you love the show.”

“I never said I didn’t, darling.”

I opened my mouth and closed it again. Rarity just gave me a smoldering gaze, one hand perched over her shoulder, the other holding her arm up. Her hips were settled at a tilted angle, her tail languidly swaying behind her. I tried again and came up with the same degree of success. She bit her lower lip. I saw it tremble. Her nostrils flared and I heard a bridled mirthful nicker escape.

“Okay, okay,” I conceded. “Stop messing with the dumb human. I know when I’m beat.” I turned around, searching for my belt and swiftly found it. Bending over to pick it up, the light, barely audible sound of something snapping caught my ear.

My drawers, the elastic band finally giving up the ghost, fell to the floor to meet my pants.

There was no sound, no movement, no sign of life to distinguish anything in the room. Then, Rarity spoke.

“Oh my, I didn’t know you had a birthmark on your derriere. It is just the cutest image, as well!”

“…How much to never speak of this to anyone?”

“Nemo, there is nothing you can give that could possibly match up to what you’ve shown me.”

“…I’ll be your shopping mule the next three times you go to Canterlot.”

“Deal.”

Fucking ponies, man.

I was completely out of place here.

I surreptitiously stared around me, trying to get a handle on my surroundings. A large circular indoor stage, about a hundred or so feet in diameter, was surrounded by tables in an amphitheater design. There were three stories to the establishment, the higher floors stretching out towards the center as balconies.

Each of the tables was built to hold maybe only a few people at once, the circular shape made to give a cozy feeling along with a closeness to your tablemate. They had ivory tablecloths covering them, with origami napkin swans, a single flower in a high-lipped glass, and a couple candles to give mood in the darkened room.

The room was full of milling or sitting ponies, each dressed to the nines in fancy or expensive-looking clothes. They all seemed to be of rather high-class, though I did recognize a few familiar faces from my walks in town scattered throughout the menagerie of pompous and up-turned snouts.

Yeah, I stuck out like a sore thumb.

Sure, I was just as nicely dressed as any of the other ponies here (if I was to be honest, Rarity’s suit far outshined most of what I saw) but my unique form and heritage made me stand out even more, like a monkey shoved into a tuxedo.

Never mind, that’s exactly what I was.

Rarity gave my arm a squeeze, bringing me back down to reality. I recovered my stride from the stumbling mess it’d been as the two of me followed the hostess leading me to my seats. Rarity’s eyes were calm but her voice was not, soft and commanding “Nemo darling, you must calm down.”

I tugged at my collar. “Everyone’s staring at me, Rare.”

“Well, perhaps they’re just jealous that you’ve brought such an exquisite lady as your partner.” She preened smugly at me.

I laughed after a moment’s silence, the tension flowing out of me. Rarity’s smile shifted to something more tender before she flipped her hair. “Hmph! Well, maybe you’ll better appreciate me after this. Now!” She pointed to a chair at my assigned table. “Help me into my seat like a gentlestallion would.”

I chuckled as I pulled out the chair, Rarity smoothly sliding into it, and then pushed it back in. My hands lingered near her bare shoulders for a moment and her eyes crinkled. “Rule three, my dear – always make sure to treat a lady like a lady wherever you go.”

“Whatever you say, Rare,” I snorted, sitting in the chair opposite from her. I noticed the seats were situated parallel to the stage so that neither of my backs were to it. I guessed that was so everyone would have the ability to watch was going on without having to crack their spines twisting around. “So, what is this play about anyway? Seems pretty hoity toity what with all the rich pones here.”

“Oh, you’ll love it!” she gushed. “It’s by the playwright Dense Phrase created back near the end of the Classical era, and…”

She soon fell into a florid description of the ancient pony’s work. I could barely string two words together before she began to blather about something else, and I found myself lucky to try and parse what she was saying about the play. As far as I could figure out, it was sort of like someone had taken one of Shakespeare’s comedies and then given it to a French existentialist who dropped acid before, during, and far after production.

Normally I would’ve been bored out of my skull and looking for a chance to schlep off to the bathroom, but Rarity was clearly trying to get me interested in the night I was about to waste. The least I could do was humor her. Plus, her wild gesticulations made her dress move in all different kinds of ways, all of which were dessert for my eyes, and her face was just so lively and joyful. Luckily for my ears though, our waiter arrived to take our drink orders before she could go off on another tangent.

The waiter was a male earth pony, with stormy eyes and the most glorious mustache, dressed in his own monkey suit that suited him far better. He had a slight accent, reminiscent of western Europe. “Welcahme to the Equus Global Theatre, where we ah’re currently showing Dense Phraze’s ‘A Midsummer’s Mid-Morning Cant.' I ahm your server today, Crystal Decahnt.” For a moment, he eyed Rarity. I didn’t like the way he dragged over her body. Oh, I was not going to get along with him. “May I get you ahnything to drink before my meals ahre brought out?”

“I will have a glass of Chateau Charlemane 67’,” Rarity ordered.

“Excellent choice, mademoiselle,” he answered. He smiled charismatically. “I can see we have a connoisseur in ouhr midst. And is that a hint of a Prench accent I hear?”

“My, yes, I spent a few months there traveling the countryside! They have the most lovely villages there, and the air is so sweet-smelling! Have you been?”

“Ah yes, the rollinck fields of Deleur ahre breathtaking this time of year.” He bent and took her hand. “And if I may say, miss…?”

“Rarity.”

“Rarity…” He slipped into native tongue, all breathy sighs and heady words, and kissed her hand, his thick mustache brushing across her fur.

“Oh my!” She answered back in that same language, to which he said something else. Rarity giggled girlishly at me, putting her other hand to her mouth. “Isn’t he just so charming?”

“Yes.” I bit my tongue. Was it getting hot in here, or was it me? “So very charming.”

An odd expression passed over her face, something that almost looked like impatience and curiosity mixed with an upset gastrointestinal tract. “Well, darling, what would you like to drink?”

“Ah, yes, monsieur.” Decant somehow managed to tear himself from flirting with mymotherfracking date(!) to take my order, pad at the ready. “You do not seem laike a wine stallion, but I ahssure, we have something that can handle your… palahte.” The smallest hint of a sneer hid within his features.

He was so lucky Rarity would be pissed off at me if I got blood all over her handmade suit. I had plenty of stabbing implements within grabbing distance. “I’ll just take whatever you have on tap.”

“Ah, as I expected, monsieur. Then, I shall be back with your drinks shortly.” He exited stage right but not before shooting off another string of foreign words that sent Rarity into another girlish tizzy.

Rarity calmed in her giggles. She shot me a look, her brows drawing together. “Is something wrong, darling?”

…Was she fucking serious? The dude was licking her with his eyes and seducing her with his stupid fancy, foreign silver tongue and she wanted to know what was wrong with me? Did she even-

Wait.

What the fuck.

Was I… was I fucking… jealous?

…Ohhhhh no. I wasn’t going to play this game. This was only a practice date. Rarity wasn’t going to make I feel anything me damn didn’t want to feel like Pinkie and Fluttershy had. And she fucking wasn’t going to make me feel like this whole dating shit was real and get me all emotionally invested and shit! Fuck, I’d had enough trouble already; I wasn’t going to succumb to her bitchy mind games!

Fuck all’em mares!

“Nemo…?”

“It’s… nothing!” I hissed out. How red was my face? No, wait, I was angry; I tended to go unnaturally white as a sheet when fire burned in my carbonized heart.

“Well! There’s no need to be so short with me! I was simply worried for you, you’re pale as a ghost!”

“I’m fine, Rare…” I warned.

She grumbled, and I both fell into uneasy silence. I needed it anyway. It was better for me to have a grudging temper than a flighty anxiety, and the last few days had done nothing but make me worry that I was going to snap from the stress.

The mood was soon ‘rescued’ when Decant returned with my drinks. “For monsieur, a pint of Stalliongrahd Steel…” He roughly placed the mug in front of me, some of the frothy contents spilling over the side and onto the tablecloth. He didn’t apologize for his ‘accidental’ misdemeanor as he threw all his attention back on Rarity. “And for the lovely mademoiselle, a glass of our fahnest wine.” He tenderly put the wineglass down before slicing through the seal and popping open a new bottle.

For a moment, there was a disgruntled look on Rarity’s face before it slid into a perfectly demure and surprised one. “Oh, but I only ordered one glass,” Rarity said.

“Compliments of the house,” he smoothly rebutted. “A lahvely drink for a lahvely lady.”

Rarity giggled again at the lavish gesture and praise and swiftly entered an involved conversation with him on the fields and winery where the wine had been gathered and fermented. I just watched in stony silence, holding back the dark miasma in the corner of my mind.

What did it matter that Rarity was flirting with the guy? That was the kind of woman she was; she never failed to draw out flattery from any stallion that had his eye on her. And besides, like I already knew beforehand, this was just a practice date, something to draw me out of my shell. It wasn’t like she wanted to go out with me. Her snide remarks on my constant crude behavior and antics certainly proved that. Even when she sometimes smiled at me like I was an unpolished gem, a work in progress that she had to finish.

…ah fuck, now I was sad. Ugh, and I promised to stop being so damn mushy over a damn broad!

Look at her, she was clearly enjoying talking with the stallion. Someone with the same likes and past times as her made a much better partner if her appearance was any indication. Her eyes were glowing, her mouth in constant movement, her hands perfectly placed to draw attention to her face and throat, her hooves rolling on top of my feet.

Wait wat.

One eye narrowed in stunned amazement, the other trained on Rarity. She laughed at something Decant said and rolled her eyes, briefly connecting with mine. The corner of her mouth curled up, and I felt one hoof trail up my lower leg. And then the spell was complete, and she was back to talking with the flirtatious waiter.

Her hoof wasn’t done with me. It rubbed up and down my entire length, sometimes switching with the other leg to give that one the same fair treatment. I reflexively twitched and nearly slammed my knee on the underside of the table when she touched me under it, and Rarity responded with a giggle and bit the end of her thumb. Decant’s mustache wiggled at her apparent delight in some witty remark he made.

The breaking point came when she traveled all the way, past my ankle and calf, past my knee and thigh, and planted her hoof squarely in my lap. I instinctively grabbed it. Rarity let out a disappointed sound. Decant raced to cheer her up. She rolled her eyes at me again, and that same dirty ditty of a grin flashed across and away.

Oh, so that was how she wanted to play it? This really was just a big game to her, wasn’t it? Well too fucking bad, I wasn’t going to lose to her feminine wiles!

My hands slid up and down her leg, her downy layer of fur feeling more like fuzzy satin than hair. Every so often, I would press into the limb, feeling out the assortment of tender, firm muscles within. Rarity jumped and bit her lip whenever I did, though her voice did not break stride even the tiniest bit. Mare could be a top-class actress if she ever went for it.

I continued this game of cat-and-mouse footsies until finally I couldn’t take anymore. I released Rarity’s leg and she glanced over at me. With the minutest of nods, so subtle I barely saw it, I took my stand.

My hands crashing down onto the table, knocking over silverware and my beer mug with a clatter, echoed through the room and silenced any of those in proximity. My eyes locked onto Decant, whose amiable features had changed to something more startled and concerned, and slowly rose to my feet.

“Hey. Buddy.”

“Yes, sir?” Even now, his service voice was strong.

“I’d really appreciate it you’d stop making goo-goo eyes at my girl and fuck off.”

“My goodness!” he gasped. “There’s no need to be so combahtive!” I saw the gears turning over in his head. He faced Rarity, gave a short bow, and said, with a remorseful tone, “Mademoiselle, I don’t know what I could have possibly done to cahse your partner to be so barbaric, but please, accept my apology for whatever trahnsgression I might’ve crossed. I did not mean to shame such a wondrous example of marehood with such frivolous bellicosity.”

Shit, even now he was still smooth-talking her! And with that frown on Rarity’s face aimed at me, no doubt she was pissed at me. Had I read the situation wrong? Was I really just an uncouth asshole? Just how manipulative was this mare?

I sank into my seat with a petulant snarl as she followed me with a glare. I wanted to say something else but found myself unable to – not because of any sense of propriety, but because of two other details.

One, Rarity’s glower, for a sliver of a second, melted into a capricious, grim smile and back again before she switched her attention to the waiter. And second, her leg was back in my lap again, stopping me from moving away and demanding my obedience

She smiled congenially and presented her hand. Decant took it and planted another chaste kiss on the back of it. “No, my good stallion, you have done nothing to offend me.”

A triumphant and smarmy smirk settled, and he tried to make some other witty and enthralling compliment, but she wouldn’t let him. Oh no, she wasn’t going to let this proceed at all.

Rarity’s smile never left her face, but her tone and eyes could have easily been substituted for liquid nitrogen in their efficiency in icing the wannabe-Don Juan’s spirit. I could just make out a very quiet and subtle cracking noise, and Rarity’s fingers on the other pony’s tightened by an almost imperceptible amount.

“You have, however, been exceedingly rude and disingenuous to my date.” She said the word like it was a gift given by the pony gods on high and therefore his behavior towards it the most wicked form of blasphemy. Sweat appeared on Decant's brow as she continued her lambasting.

“I do not know how your parents raised you but a proper gentlestallion does not try to steal away a special somepony like a devious thief in the night. Your actions are deplorable, your table manner repugnant, and you use much too much mousse in your mustache.” She brought her hand to her snout and turned her head like she’d smelled something rotten. “I declare, do you dunk your muzzle in a vat of it every morning, or are your insides so greasy that you only need to sweat it out?”

“M-Miss Rarity, I-”

“There is no miss for you, you hooligan in stud’s clothing! I wish for you to leave and never show you face again! You may send another waitstaff in you place, hopefully one that knows how to show all their guests the same and proper amount of respect!” She snapped her fingers and flicked them at him. “You are dismissed!”

I held back the surprised and yet evil smirk as the waiter paled, stammered out an apology, and then ran off with his tail literally between his legs. The ponies surrounding me quickly went back to their conversations, though I could easily speculate what their current subject matter was.

I turned to the queen who’d just given an unworthy serf twenty lashes and whistled appreciatively. “Fuck, Rare, I thought he was going to piss himself.”

She hmphed primly and flipped her hair back, her lip in a thin, neutral line. “A lady can only tolerate such rudeness for so long. For him to think that I would even consider…” She growled and then sunk her teeth into me, her barbed tongue finding fresh meat. “And you! What took you so long? Where was your normal ignorance of basic social etiquette?”

I blinked. First the mare pretends to flirt with the guy while she plays footsies with me and then she gets pissed when I didn’t immediately act like a jackass? Holy shit, what was with this female? If she was a human, I don’t think I would’ve lasted with her for even a day!

So why was I still here, then? Oh, right, her leg in my lap, that dress of hers, and the very clear and sharp twinkle in her eyes that stated, no, promised that I was not going to escape from her without a fight. And she would employ every dirty tactic in the book to ensure that it would not be an easy or swift one.

Fuck did this mare scare me (and the general) in all the wrong and right ways.

“Honestly? I didn’t want to ruin tonight for you. Half-expected if I just kept quiet, I couldn’t say anything stupid.”

Rarity’s frown deepened. She poked me in the stomach with her hoof. “And the other half?”

Her frown trembled and threatened to break as I dug my fingers into her toned calf again, running along the fetlock, feeling out the tension in her muscles. “What do you think?”

Her lips morphed into a slinky smile and she nickered happily as I continued to massage her leg under the table. “Fourth rule – a lady may not respect a stallion who is crude, but she respects even less one who does not defend her from foreign if charming conquerors.” With a rueful whine, Rarity pulled her leg back away from my grasp and leaned forward onto the table. She picked up her wine glass and swirled it, watching the liquid that matched her dress in color glimmer and cast crimson shadows.

“Do not be afraid to be aggressive sometimes when you want something, darling.” She brought the glass up to her lips and took a sip. Her eyes narrowed over the rim at me. “I certainly have no problem with it.”

…What a mare. I shook my head and chuckled. Rarity mirrored my action, her giggles still reaching me despite the ambient noise. They turned to a mellifluous croon when I reached out and took her free hand.

“Right now, I just want to enjoy my night out with a beautiful mare.”

She winked at me. “Good start. Now…” She turned to the stage, though she did not shake my hand from hers. The lights dimmed as she did, signaling the introduction to the play. “Try to pay attention to the show. There will be a quiz afterward to make sure you did so.”

“Will there be a prize if I do?”

I felt her hoof strum up my pants leg again. Her expression said more than her words ever could at that moment. It was a good enough promise for me.

I looked down at the package in my hands. I looked up at Rarity’s beaming and expectant face. I looked down again.

It looked harmless. It was wrapped in a sheet of white silk and tied with a purple ribbon in a very tasteful if complexly arranged bow. It wasn’t that heavy, not even a few pounds, and the contents were soft, giving to the touch, and melded in with the texture of the wrapping.

I assumed that it was another clothes bundle like the ones Rarity normally gave me when she finished a batch. However, they were never this formally presented, and she never watched me like a waiting puppy that had just brought back the best throwing stick ever. Hell, when she’d jumped me as soon as I entered her establishment, shoving the package into my arms and demanding I open it with the most pleased expression on her face, I half-expected it to be her magnum opus.

But the package was much too small to hold anything too elaborate. I would be surprised if it was anything larger than a basic shirt. Anything larger and there would be unseemly creases. Like Rarity would ever give wrinkles a chance to infect her work with an improper and haphazard folding form.

“Well?” she prodded, her hands clasped in front of her. “What are you waiting for, darling? Open it up and take a look! I’m positively brimming to know what you think!”

“…This isn’t going to explode in my face, is it?”

“Oh Nemo, I’m not like Pinkie Pie or Rainbow Dash. I wouldn’t dream of falling so low as to do that.” Her eyes narrowed. “Though you will find yourself in dire straits if you do not open this package right this instance.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep your panties on,” I muttered. Ignoring her gasp of ‘how rude!’, I tugged at one end of the bow until it loosened enough and allowed me to slip the item from out of its binding. Carefully unveiling the package, making sure to drop it and run if I saw or smelled even the hint of gunpowder, I opened it up to reveal its contents.

“Well, what do you think?” Rarity asked.

I was quiet for a moment. “It’s underwear, Rare. What am I supposed to think? It’s not like you haven’t made me these before.”

“Well it’s more than just one pair, you ignorant cad. Go on, purview the rest of them before you shake out any unknowing opinions.”

My deadpan expression did nothing to throw her off. She only continued with that same damning twinkle in her eye, the one that I knew could only spell trouble for my immediate future.

Finding that there was nothing me could do to excuse myself from this predicament, I acquiesced to her request and started to rifle through my newest collection of drawers.

They weren’t anything special – at least, nothing that would explain her dogged persistent to get me to rate them. Boxers with a checkerboard pattern, plain tighty whities, briefs that were a mix between the first two, a thong that would ride up my buttcrack something fierce.

…Another thong, this one a dark purple with a scarlet heart where my junk would rest.

And another pair of boxers, pink with the word ‘juicy’ boldly sprawled on the back.

Some briefs with a very (distressingly) familiar collection of jewels on one of the ass cheeks.

It devolved from there, a whole series of unmentionables that even I would be too ashamed to buy, handcrafted for me by a beautiful and elegant if wholly raunchy mare.

My head achingly tilted up, my cheeks pale and yet the tips of my ears a stark red. Rarity simply cocked her chin, one hand on a cheek while the other rested on her torso just below her breasts. Her smile hadn’t left her face, but it’d morphed into something more impish and enticing. She was just daring me to say something, anything, that would fit the mood of the situation.

I didn’t disappoint.

“Rarity, what. The. Fuck?” I almost had the tone down, my voice cracking on the last syllable like a desecrated stained-glass church window. A little more deep man-angry and less squealish woman-on-chair-avoiding-mouse next time, but ‘A’ for effort.

“Tut, tut, language,” she chastised, tapping a finger on my nose.

"Sorry, let me try again." I cleared my throat imperiously. My eyes went flat. "Rarity, what the everlasting fuck?"

"Must you be such a brute?"

“Then explain this!”

“Oh, did I get the sizes wrong?” She placed a finger to her lips and appeared deep in thought. Her ears flattened against her head, and her tail swayed to one side. “I thought I made them even closer to your exact measurements than before.”

That was not what I meant.

Rarity took my look to mean something else. Actually, no, she took it exactly as it was. She just wasn’t going to admit it. She rolled her eyes sheepishly and bit her lip. “Well… perhaps I took a few liberties with that region. It wouldn’t do to not give you the wiggle room you need if you were to find yourself in precarious times with a lady friend.”

Okay, now she was just fucking with me. Even more than usual.

“However…” She narrowed her eyes, making them more than just half-lidded. I felt tingly in all the wrong places as her magic took ahold of her measuring tape and drew it taught, the mare’s legs lightly clamping together. “I would be willing to rearrange for more ‘proper’ fitting if you find the size to be… inadequate?” Her eyebrows wiggled. “Perhaps over a light repaste?”

I opened my mouth for the greatest comeback ever to her overt teases and ceaseless sensual volleys against my god given masculinity. She would quake and tremble beneath the onslaught of my thunderous rage!

“You make me feel funny, Rarity, and I wish for you to stop before I do something I’ll regret.”

“Oh…?” She leaned forward, her loose shirt giving me the smallest glimpse of her lacy cream-colored bra. “And what would that be, my darling Nemo?”

“I’ll tattle to Celestia.”

She paused, clearly overtaken by my immutable defense. Her eyes searched mine for some manner out of the cage I’d trapped her in. There was nowhere she could run, nowhere she could hide from She Who Raised the Sun!

Now, how would she react to this? The ball was in her court, Madame!

Rarity laughed at my silliness and walked over to me, giving me a peck-nuzzle-combo on the cheek. “Oh, darling, never change. Though I am always ready for more from you if you ever desire to chance it.” With that, she spun on her hooves, her tail patting my chest in the process.

I sighed as she skipped back to her work, hips having that extra wiggle to them, looking for all the world a champion in her crusade to annihilate my mental fortitude.

Damn these ponies. I smiled and rubbed my cheek. Damn them all to heck.

There were fewer ways I could spend my evenings more pleasantly than walking on a moonlit path, the sharp, crisp breeze of the nighttime air chilling my skin, my only warmth the touch of a winsome mare sharing her arm with mine.

Rarity sure as hell beat that out. She had taken hold of my arm and hadn't let go ever since we’d left the dinner theatre, practically glued to my side like a barnacle. That she made every effort to keep as close to me as possible, even if it made walking difficult at times, only sweetened the deal.

Of course, she hadn't stopped babbling about the play the entire time either, but she was pretty and smelled good, so I'd let that pass. It definitely wasn't because of how adorably she squealed over the play like a giddy fangirl or how she just looked so happy running a nearly one-sided conversation with me. She hadn't even urged more than monosyllabic responses from me after the first few attempts! She really must've been in a good mood from the date, or the play was just that fantastic.

Not like I'd know - I'd been distracted the entire time through. Even though Rarity had insisted I pay attention to the stage, even teasing that she'd grill me later, that hadn't stopped her from playing footsies (hoofsies?) with me the entire three-hour presentation. How the mare could split her attention between following the actors, almost mirroring their lines word for word, daintily eating her several-course meal, and playfully rubbing her hooves up and down my legs underneath the table, easily keeping up with my pitiful resistance, I had no idea.

Her multitasking would make any millennial green with envy and bow at her hooves for guidance.

She would, of course, run with that worship for all its worth. I honestly wouldn't be surprised that, if the mare somehow found her way to my world, she'd create a cult that put her at the pinnacle of existence.

Right now, with her resting her head on my shoulder, plucking at my sleeve with her well-manicured fingers, and her full ruby lips ever-so-sinfully forming sentences, I wouldn't mind being one of her head priests, ready with the sacrificial wine.

Wow things went a bit weird there for a moment. Focus on something healthier, like the cute woman who was a little tipsy and making me feel all kinds of mush in the pit of my stomach.

"And Honest Wreath! Oh!" She kissed her fingers with a theatrical gasp. "She was absolutely perfect as Mon Petite. Didn't I think her fight scene with LongShore was just, ooo, tres bien?"

"Wait, was that the chick with the Christmas tree on her butt, or was she the one who clobbered that dude with a pineapple?" The whole play had been just one long string of non-sequiturs to me. It was like watching a clown car full of blind mimes crash into a Salvador Dali painting.

No, wait, that was the third act, second scene. Fuck was pony avant-garde confusing.

Rarity stopped in her ceaseless chatter and stared at me, her eyes flat. "Darling, were you even watching the play? Clearly she was the mare representing the juxtaposition of societal standards and courtly ideals in a cruel and stallion-driven world."

"So she was the pineapple chick, got it."

She sighed and put a hand to her face, shaking her head with all the gravity of a person who had stared into the eyes of uncultured Neanderthals and was not thrilled by what she found. "Nemo, we must work more on elevating your artistic integrity. Clearly you have been deprived of good taste for far too long."

I shrugged. "I don't know, that earth pony with the brush did a good job of emulating the removal of trash from our civilization's underbelly."

"That was during intermission and he was the stage cleaner."

"And he did a great job of it!"

Rarity took one look at my goofy grin and gave a small, annoyed sigh of disgust. Ha, score one for me. She was about to say something else when a strong gust of wind swept over the two of me. She shivered and pulled herself closer to me. I felt the goosebumps form underneath her ivory fur and saw the minute chattering of her teeth.

Figuring me might as well put Rarity's gift to better use that dangling on my weakass frame, I shifted her aside so I could take my jacket off and smoothly draped it over her shoulders. Rarity seemed surprised at first, her mouth slightly agape at my rare show of chivalry, but she quickly recovered and snuggled back into my arm. She hooked a curl of her mane back and glanced up at me, her blue eyes piercing through her dark lashes.

"Well, perhaps we can make a gentlestallion of you yet."

"Don't hold your breath, I think you squeezed out any good manners I might've had left."

She slapped my chest playfully. I chuckled at her stern expression, the sound drifting away as I felt her tail wrap itself around my leg. She quickly became very demure and very enticing. I looked away and cleared my throat.

"So! In case I still have something left, what would a gentleman do in this situation?"

"Well, he would walk me to my door, wish me a good night, and maybe, just maybe..." Rarity rested her head more on me. Her horn scraped along my sleeve, drawing a trail of fire on my skin. "He might be rewarded for such gallant behavior."

Feeling a bit more brazen, I drew my finger down her bare arm. "Oh? And what kind of reward might that be?" Hey, if she was going to flirt with me even more after all she did, I wasn't just going to lie back and take it. I would get some parting shots in before she sunk me.

After I had been routed by both Pinkie and Fluttershy, I was waiting for Rarity to make her move. I wasn't going to get screwed over this time!

She hummed, pursing her lips. "I suppose you'll just have to wait and see~" The corners of her mouth looked more like something her cat, Opal, would make after devouring yet another helpless canary and washing it down with a pint of cream.

I decided to shut up and bide my time. I needed all the strength I could muster to withstand the inevitable assault Rarity would unleash upon my manhood and sanity.

The two of me talked about pointless things until we arrived at her place. When Rarity stopped, stepping onto her welcome mat, she untwined herself from me, but it became quickly apparent she wasn’t done yet. She hadn’t even released my arm for a moment before she snaked her arms around my neck and pulled me close. I laughed softly at her expectant expression.

“I guess I was a good boy?”

“Mm, passable,” she smirked. “I did have a lovely time, but there’s always something to improve on.”

My hands found their way onto her hips. “I thought it was more than adequate since I didn’t end up slugging that waiter.” The feelings he evoked in me when he flirted with Rarity (my date) weren’t something I’d soon forget… or want to dwell too long on. Damn but were these mares making me all kinds of confused and emotional!

“Mayhaps you are correct…” She leaned up, her horn tapping against my forehead. “I admit I found you more than a little studly when you defended my honor so passionately. Perhaps your brutish nature would be acceptable in such circumstances.”

“Yeah?” My head dipped further down. All I saw were her eyes, deep pools of dark, almost purplish, blue that shined hypnotically in the moonlight, and her crimson-moistened lips, looking much too irresistible to not taste. I might've been a little tipsy, too. “And how about these circumstances?”

She hummed. Her breath, warm and moist on my lips, smiled spicy and sweet. The tips of Rarity’s fingers scratched at the back of my neck, tangling themselves in my hair. “I think this little doggy deserves a treat.” Her head tilted so that she had better access, and she pulled me in without resistance.

And then she kissed me.

She wasn’t hungry like Pinkie, she wasn’t timid like Fluttershy. Rarity kissed me like a woman kissed a man, like a lover kissed their other half after a long time apart, like a damsel rewarded the valor of her appointed and daring knight.

She kissed me like a lady.

My eyes drifted shut, savoring the moment. The moment stretched to two then a few then several. Rarity’s mouth moved over mine, searching but not invading. The pressure was firm but not overwhelming. She nibbled on my upper lip but made no move to anything rougher. Finally, it ended, and I opened my eyes.

I felt like I was punch-drunk. It had been nice, very nice. I didn’t know how ponies viewed this kind of thing, but I’d kissed or been kissed by three different mares in as many days. And if the future dates were going to be like this, I would’ve certainly earned me place in hell back home.

“Wow,” I said in a daze. An honest smile was loose on my face.

Rarity, however, did not look as pleased. Her eyes were narrowed, her lip bit in ire, her cheeks puffed out in a pout. I froze. Oh shit, what could I have possibly done now? Was I not supposed to have kissed her? I knew she was the master of mixed messages, but I thought she couldn’t have been clearer if she had guided me in with airport runway lights!

“No, no, no!” she cried, lightly pounding her fists on my chest. "This wasn't at all how it was supposed to go!"

I panicked. "Rare, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Where's the forcefulness, the blunt passion, the spark that makes my heart race? This isn't at all how a cur like you is supposed to act!" She growled, a displeased 'mrowl' clawing its way out of her throat between hiccupping whinnies. "You were supposed to ravish me until I was naught but putty in your strong arms, not cuddle me!"

My eyebrows raised in confused tandem. “…What?”

I felt the tale-tell sign of magic, like warm static electricity, around the cuffs of my shirt. Blue suffused the articles and led my hands to her rear, her buttocks neatly fitting into my palms.

“Squeeze,” Rarity growled again. Her eyes were on fire.

“…huh?”

“Squeeze!”

I squeezed. Her butt was tight and firm and yet with just the right amount of bounce to it. It felt just like her legs had, taut and tender, only a million times better, perfectly curving to my hands so I got a nice heaping helping of it. I could feel her muscles spring against my fingers as they nearly lifted her off her hooves. The growl melted into pleased, decadent purrs and coos, though the flames in her eyes did not die out, only alter into some other form of passion.

"Much better, you cad. Oh!" She placed the back of her hand to her forehead and almost collapsed in my arms, only my game of grab-ass keeping her up. "Whatever is a lady to do? Grabbed by this debauched ruffian, forced to fulfill his every salacious desire!"

"I don't-"

Rarity yanked my head down. "Oh shut up and kiss me, my dear."

She did not kiss like a lady this time.

Maybe it was her warmth, her smell, her taste, the feeling of her tongue vigorously searching for my own, the fact I was just a teeny bit drunk or just the tiniest bit horny after having some of the strangest foreplay in my life, but something snapped inside me. A conglomeration of volatile emotions, simmering and burbling hormones, and thousands of years of feral predator instincts kicked into overdrive. Before I even knew it, I had the smaller mare pinned against her front door with her literally lifted off the ground as I encompassed her frame, a single leg of hers hooked around my waist to keep her supported while I cradled her.

My lips were going to be hella bruised and sore after this, especially with the way she was pulling on them with her teeth. The hardened keratin at the ends of her fingers ran furrows down my back and I knew that even with the layers of clothing, I was going to have lots of war trophies left over. In return, it was going to be hard for her to sit for a while, especially with the way I was roughly fondling her ass with one hand underneath her dress.

Side note – with the way I was only feeling bare bottom, either Rarity had gone commando or thong for our date. Not sure what was overheating my engines quicker. What was definitely overheating hers was when I instinctively dove to suck and nip at her throat if her passionate whinnies and neighs were anything to go by.

You ever hear lustful laughter mixed with overjoyed playfulness? It is such a turn-on.

After what seemed like an eternity, Rarity popped her lips from me and smiled rakishly. Her face was flushed, her hair in disarray. Her lipstick was smeared and a bit of masacara down ran from her eyes. Her lips were puffed and her eyes wild and moist. And she didn’t seem to give a single flying fuck.

As my thoughts slowly came back to me, I suddenly realized I’d just pinned Rarity – Rarity of all mares – against the front of her house and figuratively, and quite possibly literally, smooched her brains out.

She certainly had smooched out mine.

Okay, so obviously I had just failed some bullshit test of character to see if I wouldn’t molest a very pretty and flirtatious mare like a deviant. Clearly, if there was a pony hell, I’d just earned my own personal slice of it. Pony-Beelzebub had a pony devil set aside for me. I wondered if they were as big on pitchforks here as they were back home.

Rarity interrupted my internal damnation, her lips turned up. She swirled a fingertip on the back of my neck. “Fifth rule, darling.” With each breath of wisdom, she stole another kiss. “Sometimes a lady. Likes to be taken. Rapaciously. By her stallion. Not handled. Like fine china.” She giggled at my dumb expression and pecked my nose. “Oh, did I do something odd? I did say that your pugnaciousness was quite enjoyable at times.” Rarity’s eyes sparkled as she waited for me to answer, lovingly suckling on my bottom lip.

We’re sorry. We are not here at the moment. Your brain has been transported to technical support for routine maintenance. Please call back later or leave a message after the [BEEP].

FFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUU-

Rarity giggled again and patted my cheek. “Let me down now. We’ve had our fun tonight. Best we not ruin it by pushing too far too quickly.”

Well, that was complete and utter bullshit. Especially when she didn’t stop me from kissing her this time and getting a good grope in.

Unfortunately for the general, I did eventually let go of her, though I was clearly justified in being reluctant about it. She still rewarded me with another prolonged but sweeter kiss and then skimmed into her home. Rarity closed the door just enough for me to see her face, the rest of her body covered by my jacket. She smiled fondly at me, her face red from top to bottom beneath her alabaster coat.

“Good night, Nemo. I had a wonderful time.”

“Uh, what about my jacket,” I said absently. There was still a big disconnect in my brain between what had just happened and reality. I must’ve had the dopiest look on my face.

“Oh, I think I’ll keep it.” Rarity brought the jacket closer around her, nuzzling her face in and taking a deep whiff. “It will keep me warm and give me some… good fuel for dreams.” Absently, her whole body shivered and a nervous whinny escaped her. She wiggled her fingers. “Tata~!” The door clicked soundlessly after her.

I just stood there like a puppet with all its strings cut. Then, without any command from my brain, my feet marched me off to my home. I didn’t even realize I was back until I collapsed face first onto my couch, the lumpy cushions greeting me warmly and with minor asbestos inhalation. I put my finger to my lips and brought them back with the addition of red smeared across them, a reminder of Rarity’s mark. My hand involuntarily tightened and then released, that endless ripple of hers still sunk into my flesh.

Just… what the fuck? Why…?

I wasn’t going to win this. This was just a war I was going to lose… badly. Just accept that I was going to be conquered, divvied up, and hung above a mantle next to the other stuffed heads of those poor bastards that had the misfortune of wandering in front of a fat Englishman with a bore rifle.

And as if to seal this damnation, another one of Twilight’s scrolls conflagrated above I and bounced off my head, rolling onto the floor. I groaned, not wanting to give it the satisfaction, but figured that there was nothing more I could to deny my accursed fate.

I opened it and read.

“I hope you enjoyed your time with Rarity! I was a bit concerned with the play that she planned on taking me to (Dense Phrase’s work is an acquired taste even by most post-impressionists’ standards), but she insisted that she would force you into the light of enculturation even by just a little bit. Frankly, you could use a little polishing in that regard, even if it was a bit heavy-handed. Still, I’m certain that you had some fun even if you would never admit it to anyone, not even yourself.”

There was a small drawing of Twilight blowing a raspberry at me in the margins. Fucking alicorn, how did she keep figuring this stuff out?

“Your next date will be tomorrow in the late morning. She will be at your house to pick you up around then. Make sure to wear some outside clothes, preferably something light that will allow you to move around easily in. You’ll probably be sweating profusely by the end of it, so take care to stay hydrated! Till after again!

With love,
Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Dating (Just Kidding, That’s Cadence’s Thing)
xOxO”

…I needed a nap.

Dragging myself down the hall, I threw myself onto my bed without even bothering to take off any of clothes or even my shoes. It would take too much energy to do so. It would also take more energy than I wanted to waste shifting a foot to the left to grab the pillow so my neck wouldn’t wake up with a godforsaken crick.

Wait, hadn’t I also left my casual clothes at Rarity’s? Was I ever going to get those back?

…Ah, fuck it.

I soon fell asleep to dreams of backless dresses, exploding pineapples, and mares who were much too sexy and squeezable for their own good.

Author's Notes:

[Edited 1/21/18]

Rarity chapter done. God, was this a doozy - SO MUCH TALKING. The first time I had more characters other than the main pairing - AND IT BLOATED UP SO QUICKLY. Eh, still fun though; Rarity's vocabulary and manner of speech was a blast. And yes, she is a [BLEEP]ing tease. Don't know why but I keep coming up with 'lady in the streets, freaks between the sheets' vibes with her.

...I think porn may have corrupted me too much.

In other, sadder news, this chapter has a taken a lot out of me, for length if nothing else. Because of that, there will more than likely be an extra week delay before the next chapter comes out. Sorry, but I don't want to burn myself out. Hopefully this chapter will sate you for a while. In any case, enjoy!

Till next time; criticisms appreciated!