The first thing Spike noticed the instant he awoke naked in bed was the vast picture window to his left. Instead of a view overlooking the Strip, it displayed dolphins swimming underwater; under where the Flimflam Brothers’ main water fountain was located. And left of it was a marble hallway that led to a marble bathroom with a marble Jacuzzi.

“I’m in Trixie’s room?”

Spike wasn’t sure what time he finally drifted off to sleep. The last thing he remembered for certain was when Trixie brought him back to her room: 11:15 P.M. After that, everything else felt like a dream. Trixie led him by the hand as they got out of the hot tub and she took him to an enclosed elevator that went down to her suite. She squeezed his arm and looked at him with wide, doe eyes. The way she always did when they were younger.

“Spike, will you stay with me tonight?” she had asked. “I... I don’t want to be alone.”

He knew what she meant. She was afraid that, after all this time, she was going to lose him again. And just like that, that overwhelming sense of responsibility to care for and protect his childhood friend came rushing back.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised her as he held her in his arms.

They made love again, the second time to the Scorpions singing “There’s No One Like You”, and Spike found himself agreeing with the words—there really was no one like Trixie.

Now, as he looked at her, the woman with whom he had grown up, this woman who loved him, he longed to touch her again. He didn’t, even though the cold of the night had sent her into his arms. She lay, beautiful, naked and sleek, against his side. She was at a half curve, her front to him, her arm cast out, her knee curled high. Her breasts peeked out from the tangle of hair and the crook of her elbow, and they were as tempting as ripe fruit. Spike barely restrained himself. Yet he did. Trixie sighed and smiled in her sleep, and he wondered of what she dreamt. He had touched her passions. He had reached inside her and found a deep sensuality he knew lay beneath her sizzling eyes. He sighed softly as he stared at her, following the elegant lines of her features to the slender, beautiful curves of her body, and smiled.

“So I wasn’t dreaming after all,” he said to himself.

Spike and Trixie were called into Flim and Flam’s office a few hours later.

“What are you talking about?” Spike asked. “You mean you knew that Trixie and I were childhood friends all along?”

“Of course,” Flim replied.

“We want to see you two as a package deal: Spike and Trixie’s Dynamite Magic Showtime Deluxe!” Flam added. “Double the pleasure, double the money.”

Spike smiled as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“It’s always about money with you two, isn’t it?” he asked.

“We’re not completely heartless,” Flim replied.

“Wait, who told you that Trixie and I knew each other?” Spike inquired.

“Do not underestimate our web of information,” Flam answered. “We know everything from if any given woman is single, to hidden treasure and secret recipes of fanciful chefs from every country... even stuff we can’t talk about.”

“We also know Trixie is 5’ 7” tall, and her body measurements from the top down are 91, 59 and 86,” said Flim.

“Eight-eight, actually,” Trixie corrected him. “Your intel is outdated.”

Spike and Trixie took their leave and the Brothers went back to watching the security monitors. The biggest screen showed a zoomed in view of Twilight talking to Rarity behind the front desk.

“Good morning, darling,” Rarity said.

“Not for me,” Twilight groaned. “That damn magician stole my date.”

“Oh, yes. When Spike called me this morning I did hear someone in the background yelling ‘ta-da,’” Rarity commented.

“I love this channel,” Flim said.

“A favorite,” agreed Flam, “an absolute favorite.”

As they rode the elevator down to the lobby, Spike asked Trixie if she was all right with the fact that the Brothers put his name before hers in the (more-or-less) official title for their new show. Trixie smiled, saying that there was no one else that she would be happy to play second fiddle to. Then, when Spike saw Twilight’s name pop up on the screen of his cell phone, he almost didn’t answer.

“This is a recording. You have dialed the wrong number. Now please hang up and don’t do it again,” he said with a laugh.

“Spike, Fluttershy’s in trouble!”

Spike and Trixie darted out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened and made a beeline for the casino. When they got there, they saw Applejack, Sunset, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie, Rarity, Starlight and Twilight joined around one of the blackjack tables... and Fluttershy in the arms of a big, beefy, barrel-chested man in a dark suit. He had frizzy hair, long sideburns, a silver nose ring, and weighed over three hundred pounds.

“Get your hands off her!” Spike ordered.

“You here to make a bet against me?” the big man asked. “If I win, this little lady’s gotta join me on a date. Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” he said to Fluttershy.

“I accept your challenge,” Spike said.

“You’ve got guts. I like that,” the muscle-bound man said as he let Fluttershy go and motioned to a tall appliance that had recently been set up. “The name of the game is Lottery Vending Machine, imported directly from the Akihabara District in Jockeypan. It’s my specialty.”

“For real?” Rainbow Dash asked. “That’s so lame.”

“So lame,” Pinkie repeated.

“I’m the Lotto Vending Machine Master!” the burly guy proclaimed. “Call me Iron Will! I have a hundred percent win rate. I’m the best there is! NO ONE CAN BEAT ME! I!! NEVER!!! LOSE!!!!”

“I’ll go first,” Spike said as he approached the vending machine and deposited a silver dollar.

Spike skimmed the list of drinks. Many of them were marked “HOT” and “COLD” in red and blue letters respectively. He made a selection and the machine’s lights flashed off and on, complete with fanfare.

“Aw, shit!” Iron Will exclaimed. “That was just dumb luck! No one make a fool out of me!! You make me lose, I blow my fuse!!!”

He inserted his own coin into the machine, and the same process repeated.

“Looks like it’s a draw,” Iron Will sneered. “As a tie-breaker, we’ll have a speedy drinking contest!”

“Wow, what a sore loser,” Dash commented.

“Don’t worry,” Sunset told her. “There’s no way he’ll finish his first.”

“Say what?” the girls asked.

“He pressed the ‘hot’ button,” Sunset replied.

Sure enough, as Iron Will chugged his drink, his face instantly went red and steam shot out of his ears.

“Hot, hot! Water, water!! IT BURNS!!!” he cried.

And he took off running.

“Fluttershy, are you all right?” Spike asked.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied. “Thank you.”

“That was impressive,” Trixie said.

“You think so?” Spike asked.

“That was awesome!” Dash exclaimed.

“But I didn’t even do anything,” Spike added.

“All right, people, as you were,” said Applejack, “nothing to see here!”

“Spike, I can’t thank you enough for coming to my rescue!” Fluttershy said. “I promise I won’t forget this! I will find some way to repay you, I swear!”

“Well, what are you doing right now?” he asked.

“I’m working, but I’m free this afternoon,”

“How would you like to have lunch with me?”

“I would love to!” she exclaimed.

“Perfect,” he thought.

It was a nice day for a picnic, Spike thought as he laid a red and white plaid sheet out on a secluded sand dune just outside the city limits. No one else seemed to know about it, and Spike considered himself very lucky. Then again, who else would go picnicking in the desert even on a cool day? He sat on the sheet across from Fluttershy, who had changed into a green turtleneck sweater and faded blue jeans. She opened the picnic basket and pulled out a tuna sandwich.

“Um, Fluttershy, aren’t you a vegetarian?” Spike asked.

“I am, but that doesn’t mean you have to be,” she said as she gave it to him.

Spike took a bite of the sandwich as Fluttershy helped herself to a bowl of salad, and he was overwhelmed by the flavor: ripe cucumbers, real mayo, fresh dill, and fresh ground pepper!

“Is it good?” she asked.

“It’s great!”

Over the course of their picnic, Spike learned more about Fluttershy; what she liked and what she didn’t like. Like Rainbow Dash, she hailed from Cloudsdale, but she was delicate and frail as a child. She had a fear of heights and she was an avid animal lover, which explained why she was a vegan. She was only a little bit younger than Spike, and she’d had a couple of boyfriends back in Cloudsdale, the first when she was a teenager. That one ended in a messy breakup. The second one she talked about even less.

“It didn’t work out,” Fluttershy sighed. “He said I was nice, like a sister.”

“I know how that feels,” Spike told her, looking at her chest as it heaved ever so slightly beneath her sweater.

Spike wanted to say that Fluttershy’s ex (whoever he was) was an idiot for dumping her, but he decided against it. Eventually, he asked her about the man who’d had her in a headlock that morning.

“Do you have any idea who he was?” he inquired.

“His name is Iron Will, and he’s a motivational speaker,” Fluttershy said.

Spike recalled having seen pamphlets for a self-help guru who had checked into the hotel about two weeks before. He had also heard rumors about a high-octane, energetic dude that was built like a wrestler with an enormous ego to match... but Spike hadn’t paid much attention. In fact, he doubted it was even the same person.

“I attended one of his seminars on assertiveness last week so I could learn to be more confident,” Fluttershy explained. “He promised a one hundred percent guarantee and that anyone who wasn’t completely satisfied would pay nothing. I didn’t have much money, and I thought I wouldn’t be completely satisfied, so I figured it was a safe bet.”

“Did it work?” Spike asked.

“It did, but I became so violent that I attacked someone and threw them out of a taxi cab,” she went on.

Spike was shocked. Fluttershy wouldn’t hurt a fly! It was impossible for him to imagine her raising her voice, much less physically harming another person.

“Well today, Iron Will came to collect and I refused to pay,” she said.

“Did you tell him you weren’t satisfied?” he asked.

“I did. Unfortunately, Iron Will’s not the type to take no for an answer,”

“I noticed,” Spike replied.

“So, since I wouldn’t pay, he demanded that I go out with him as collateral,”

Spike grimaced at the thought. Suddenly, Fluttershy reached out and picked a piece of cucumber off of his lip. Then she ate it.

“I-I’m sorry, it’s an old habit of mine,” she apologized.

Spike smiled as Fluttershy’s cheeks turned crimson and she tried to hide her face behind the high collar of her sweater.

“Damn girl, you just got even cuter!” Spike thought.

“I never really did thank you for saving me,” Fluttershy said.

“Sure, you did,” he replied.

“Coco told me that she helped you save my job,” she added. “She also told me that you told her I’m cute.”

Now, it was Spike’s turn to blush. Ever since he first laid eyes on Fluttershy, he thought she was cute; but her kind heart, sweet smile, soft voice and shyness made her unusually attractive.

“That’s twice you’ve saved me. Twice,” Fluttershy said. “Thank you.”

She reached into the basket again and pulled out a cheesecake.

“Consider this a small token of my appreciation,” she told him.

“Baby, you are the greatest,” Spike smiled as he kissed her cheek.

And they dug into the cake.

When Spike and Fluttershy reached The Hive Casino and Grill later that evening, he stood aside and held the door open for her, bowing and swinging his hand in a courtly welcome. They stepped into the fragrant, dimly-lit bar and Arista, the bartender, paused inquiringly before them and Spike answered for them both.

“A double Scotch and a Virgin Marey,” he said.

Spike said hello to a few faces he knew and glanced at a few others he didn’t know – and didn’t want to know, including the few drunks that were sitting at the end of the bar. As he and Fluttershy gazed around the room, Spike noticed that the Changelings looked much different from the last time he had seen them. Some still wore black, but most of them were dressed in a variety of bright colors: reds, oranges, yellows, greens and blues, even turquoise, azure and the occasional purple. The drinks came and Spike slid a twenty past Fluttershy, let the change lie on the bar as he picked up his Scotch. Fluttershy raised her glass to her lips and sipped her Virgin Marey as she enjoyed the scent of desert bluebells.

“This is nice,” she said. “This is very nice.”

“I’m glad you think so,” said a voice.

Spike and Fluttershy turned and saw Thorax and Pharynx standing next to them. Thorax was dressed in a custom tailored lime green suit with an emerald green vest and an orange neck tie, while Pharynx wore a dark cyan suit, a grayish-blue vest, and a red tie. They were accompanied by a young woman with beautiful light pink hair and blue eyes that rivaled Fluttershy’s, pale skin, and dressed in a school girl’s uniform with a pleated skirt. Spike recognized her as Thorax and Pharynx’s younger cousin, Ocellus.

“Little dark in here, though, don’t you think?” Spike asked them.

“Dark and cold, like the hearts of so many in this city,” Pharynx replied, almost poetically.

“We’re still remodeling the rest of the building,” Thorax said. “I wanted to have some vines in here.”

“I told him they were a safety hazard,” Pharynx put in.

“So we compromised on ‘no hanging plants,’” Thorax added. “As you can see, we do theater, swing dancing, and have potlucks once a week...”

“Your open mic night seems like a big hit,” Spike commented.

“It always takes the timid ones a while to get up the nerve,” Pharynx replied.

As they were talking, Cornicle was onstage singing “Just What I Needed.”

“What in the world? Am I the only one hearing this?” Spike asked himself. “The man is butchering a classic!”

Spike started weighing his options on what to do. Then he remembered one time when he was at a karaoke bar in Trotkyo. He got up and started singing, and the men in the crowd got up and left because they felt so insulted and because they took karaoke so seriously over there. But these guys, the Changelings, were different. They really had no culture or heritage. These were a people who were all but literally starving for a tradition that they could call their own. They had recently started celebrating Hearth’s Warming. It seemed that embracing the arts (and even karaoke) were the next thing.

“Maybe it would help if you went up there and started things rolling?” Spike asked Thorax.

“Thorax, sing in his own club?” Ocellus asked. “That would be like this place was just a big temple set up to worship him.”

“Come on,” Spike said, “just one song, you guys and me, as an example to the shy kids.”

“Okay, okay,” Thorax replied.

So Thorax, Pharynx and Ocellus followed Spike up after he’d finished his Scotch and they joined Cornicle onstage.

“Testing... testing...” Spike said into the microphone. “Are you guys ready to rock and roll?”

The audience cheered. Spike and Thorax picked up guitars while Pharynx got behind the drums, Ocellus moved to the keyboards as Cornicle picked up a tambourine, and Spike led them in singing “Rock’n Me.” The ladies all smiled and swayed in their chairs while the men started nodding their heads to the beat. Not even a minute went by and half a dozen women got up onstage with them and started dancing around Spike as he sang. When the song ended, Spike invited Fluttershy to join them. He led her by the hand, up to the microphone, and she started a smooth version of “Somebody to Love.”

She began softly, then Spike joined her to give her some encouragement, and when Ocellus started playing piano and Pharynx give her a beat on the drums, Fluttershy felt the butterflies in her stomach fly away. The only break in their singing was two minutes into the song, when Thorax had a guitar solo, which the ladies in the audience loved. After the third minute, everyone started clapping their hands and patting their knees, keeping in time with Pharynx’s drumbeat, and when they finished, the audience erupted again.

Spike had always loved that song, but hearing it sung by Fluttershy, he loved it even more. After they finished “Somebody to Love,” they moved on to “Take Me Home Tonight,” and every time Fluttershy sang, “Be my little baby,” she seemed to sing it with a little extra affection.

Now, with Fluttershy having proved to Spike that she could sing as well as she could dance, she started to wonder if Spike would see her as someone he could love, and one he could always love. A part of her thought that guys like Spike never changed. It was crazy to hope they could.

Spike, Fluttershy, Thorax, Ocellus, Pharynx and Cornicle stepped forward and took a collective bow.

“Thank you! You’ve been a great audience!” Spike shouted. “Good night, Las Pegasus! Spike Drake is leaving the building!”

Trixie sat in the Midnight Lounge, alone, that night. She was shuffling, flipping, reshuffling and reflipping her brand new set of tarot cards when Twilight Sparkle walked in. Trixie offered her to sit down, but Twilight refused. Trixie flipped over a card that showed a man and a woman, both naked—The Lovers—and they looked a lot like her and Spike.

“I didn’t come here to have my fortune told,” Twilight began. “I came to talk about Spike.”

“You love him,” Trixie guessed.

“What’s wrong with that?” Twilight replied.

“Nothing,” Trixie said. “He’s great.”

“I heard you and he were getting closer... onstage and off,”

“If you feel threatened by me, don’t be,” Trixie replied. “When it comes to love gone sour, I don’t pine, I don’t whine, I just move on.”

“It seems he has, too,”

“So, Fluttershy, huh? From the gossip, it’s pretty serious. If it’s the real thing, I wish him well. You should, too,”

“It’s hard to be that dismissive about someone who’s brought such... emotion into my life,”

“If you feel there’s something you want Spike to know, Twilight, you should tell him... before it’s too late,” Trixie fanned out the remaining cards in her hand and said, “Pick three.”

Twilight shrugged as she did so and she showed them to Trixie.

The first was a court jester dressed in purple (and looked freakishly similar to Twilight)—The Fool. The second was The Tower—a dark gray structure being struck by lightning and several people falling to an unknown fate—which usually meant destruction. And the third was a white skeleton, hooded and cloaked in black, wielding a scythe and riding a pale horse—Death.

Spike opened the door for Fluttershy when they returned to his suite after karaoke. Spike shrugged his jacket and threw it in the general direction of the nearest chair. He tore at his tie to loosen it, and let it sag below his opened collar.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked her. “Bottled water, ginger ale?”

“Water, please,” she replied.

Spike walked behind the bar and fished a bottle out of the minifridge below. Looking at Fluttershy, he felt that she had done well; not only as a bunny girl, but also as a shoulder to cry on. Since she started work, she had become everyone’s friend. And she was. She was one of the few girls he could talk to and not get tired of the sound of her voice or the look of her face or the curves of her body. Spike had always had a weakness for curves especially when they were wrapped around a heart of gold... or a pint of Scotch.

Fluttershy was one of those girls you thought you could have seen somewhere else, like in a movie or in a fashion magazine (and she was in the latter, thanks to Photo Finish) and then you’d look at her closely and think maybe not. It wasn’t that she didn’t have the looks or class – she had both. But perhaps she was too nice.

He gave her the bottle of water and she followed him into his bedroom. The first thing she noticed was the picture on the nightstand of a woman with silky hair, lips soft as rose petals, and emerald eyes.

“Spike... Who is this?” Fluttershy asked.

“My birthmother, Barbara,” Spike said.

“She’s beautiful,” she breathed.

“Yes, she was,” he replied.

“You have her eyes,” Fluttershy commented.

Barbara’s photo, as stunning as it was, didn’t capture the full scope of her beauty. Spike may have inherited his eye color from his mother, but the chiseled jaw and muscles were his dad’s. It had been so long since she died that Spike was beginning to forget what her voice sounded like. Fluttershy picked up another photo of Barbara in a white wedding dress with a man in a black tuxedo.

“Is this your papa?” she asked.

“I never knew him. Celestia she told me he was in a bomb disposal unit. He was honored twice as a hero... then he died in the line of duty before I was born,”

Fluttershy looked at the floor before sweeping her hair behind her ear. That was one of the things Spike loved about Fluttershy. She didn’t mind that he didn’t talk much. She didn’t mind his tough guy act, and she didn’t mind his drinking. Everyone needs some kind of defense. But there was still something, a small aura she gave off that seemed to take the form of motherly instinct.

As Spike looked at her, she looked conflicted, like she was trying to make up her mind about what to do next.

“You don’t have to be so shy around me,” he said to her.

“I know, but... I can’t help it...”

“Just tell me what you want,”

“But... wh-what if what I want is... kind of... dirty?”

Spike couldn’t answer.

“Spike, were you nursed as a baby?”

“What are you--?”

“I’m asking if you were breastfed,”

“I... don’t... remember,” he said slowly.

“I was a wet nurse,” Fluttershy confessed. “I gave milk to the children of mothers who couldn’t produce their own... I thought I was ready to wean, but I miss the bonding.”

She glanced out the balcony window.

“I’m dull, and I can’t speak well... I thought if I became prettier and turned people’s heads... I could have more self-confidence...”

“Fluttershy...”

She catapulted into his arms, her head against his chest.

“I’ve loved you for so long... so long... from the moment you taught me how to dance!” she cried.

She pulled herself away just enough to look up at his kind face. Then she kissed him. Her mouth was sweet and damp. Then she stepped away.

Spike’s jaw dropped as he watched Fluttershy undress. She lifted the hem of her green sweater and then held it in her right hand. Her stomach was pale and her bra was forest green, almost matching her sweater. She dropped the sweater, and then put her arms around Spike’s neck, kissing him again. Spike tasted her breath as she took his right hand and put it on the silky cup covering her left breast. She was so responsive to his touch and he could feel the soft, steady beat of her heart. Then she stepped away again. She looked beautiful, standing there barefoot in her faded jeans. Spike wanted to take her in his arms, lift her and carry her off to a castle in the clouds.

He imagined the panties beneath her jeans, wondering if they matched her bra (they did), and he began to stir. She had a body to go with her face, young and virginal. Her breasts were melon-round with pert nipples, her belly was deliciously dimpled, and her hips and thighs were doubly seductive.

So, why was she so self-conscious?

They kissed again and her hands dropped to his belt and unbuckled it. There was a soft rasp as his zipper went down, and then the side of her palm was sliding along the hard ridge beneath his shorts. She gasped.

“It’s bigger than I imagined it would be,” Fluttershy whispered.

She smiled as she slipped a cool hand inside, and gripped him. That hold, coupled with her gentle moving thumb, made all of his former girlfriends’ efforts seem very minor league, and things got pretty heated pretty fast.

She unfastened her bra and Spike could see small white droplets forming on the end of her nipples, slowly inching their way down the round underside of her breasts as she wrapped them around his cock.

“So, I just sandwich it like this?” she asked.

“Yeah!” he nodded.

“If you become that happy about it, it’s embarrassing,” she said. “I always thought big breasts were just in the way...”

“Fluttershy, your breasts are wonderful!”

“Thank you,”

Then she started licking the tip as she gave him a boob job. She pulled away as Spike was about to burst and pushed her jeans and panties down. Spike removed the last of his clothes as Fluttershy sat on the couch in the corner. She patted her lap with her hands, inviting him into a more comfortable position. She let out a long, soft moan as he reclined across her soft thighs, stretching out his legs.

Fluttershy smiled down at the strong, perfectly built young man with eyes that were full of joy. Spike fondled her nipples for a moment, feeling them rise and harden under his touch. Then he bent to caress them with his lips and tongue. She sighed as he looked up at her; his eyes were watery with emotion, a mixture of self-anger and guilt.

“Suckle me,” she said, trying to encourage him.

He took her incredibly sensitive left breast in both hands and gently placed his lips upon it.

“That’s it,” she whispered. “Suck my nipples harder.”

Spike’s cock twitched as he suckled her left nipple, moaning as it swelled in his mouth and her milk began to glide down his throat.

“Let me feed you,” she cooed as she stroked his hair. “Let me be your mommy.”

Spike’s fantasy was becoming a reality. He thought of how the loss of his mother had affected him. He thought of how he needed a feminine support over the years, and he began to cry. Tears ran down his cheeks and he whimpered as he nuzzled his face into her breasts.

“Shhh... shh... shhh... there you go, baby. No more crying now. Mama’s here,” she cooed.

Seeing his almost childlike reluctance turn to eagerness was turning her on. The taste of her milk was intoxicating; it was all he ever wanted, and he could not get enough. The harder he sucked the faster it filled his mouth.

Fluttershy cupped a hand behind his head and guided his mouth from one breast to the other and into the fragrant, woman-scented valley between them. He responded by suckling a bit harder, coaxing more and more of the creamy liquid from her breast, and she stroked his hair. Then he moved his left hand to her right breast and began to caress it.

Spike didn’t need any more encouragement at this point as he reached up and took Fluttershy’s right breast into his mouth and latched on. Instantly, steams of warm milk began to fill his mouth.

He started making contented little noises as he felt his climax approaching. Fluttershy detached herself from Spike and encompassed his cock with her mouth just before he released and she gulped down his cream.

“Spike, I want you to deflower me,” she said so low it was almost a whisper.

“I’ll take it slow,” he promised.

He ran his hands up to her bare shoulders, and pulled her down for a kiss. Then he stood up, scooped her up in his arms, and placed her gently across the bed, dropping himself alongside her as he ran his free hand down to the warm moisture between her trembling thighs. She tried to look away from his sincere, handsome face but could not.

“Spike, would you please turn the lights off?”

“But then I wouldn’t be able to see you,”

He started suckling her again.

“Spike, not too much with the breasts this time, please,”

He parted her knees and entered her, his bare feet on the carpet and her hips almost hanging over the edge of the mattress as he drove hard and deep. Then her hips began to gently rock, encouraging him, and he thrust into her, slowly at first, as she adjusted to having him completely submerged inside her. She gasped and moved her face to one side, sobbing.

“Am I being too rough?” he asked.

“No, it’s okay. I can take it! I-I’m not made of glass,” she said.

He muffled her screams with a kiss as he came fast, and moved them both further onto the bed for a more comfortable second encounter, taking his time now, as their heaving flesh got better acquainted. He grabbed both of her buttocks in his hands and hauled her in closer under him. She moaned as she and raked her nails along his back and sobbed again.

She had dropped her modesty completely now and was responding like a she-wolf in heat, digging her nails in and raising her knees until her heels were crossed behind his neck. He was hitting bottom with every stroke. He eased off a bit; aware that he could be hurting her, but she pumped hard to meet his thrusts.

“All of it! I want it all inside me! Deep! Go deep! I want all of you! Now! Now! Yes! Oh, yes!”

They had a long shuddering mutual orgasm and she suddenly went limp. Spike knew he was heavier than Fluttershy, so after lying there long enough to catch his breath, he shifted his weight to his elbows and eased off.

“Don’t move,” she sighed. “Just let it soak inside me till we can do it some more. You’re still nice and hard. My, there’s certainly a lot of you, isn’t there?”

He took it as a compliment.

“Can we do it again?” she asked. “This time I want to be on top!”

He rolled off her and lay back as she giggled like a naughty schoolgirl and climbed on top of him, with a knee by each of his hips. She toyed with his moist erection, guiding herself onto it with her hands.

“I feel delightfully wicked,” she said.

He sighed with pleasure as she dropped her pelvis hard, taking it deep with a breathless hiss, and moved up and down with amazing vigor as she leaned forward, swinging her nipples across his face.

“Suck me! Suck my titties!” she shouted. “Oh, don’t stop! It’s amazing!”

Suckling this way was much easier as the milk in her breasts was being helped by gravity. This made it easy for him to drink without having to use as much suction.

“Fuck me harder, Spike! Fuck me like there’s no tomorrow!”

They came together before Fluttershy collapsed on top of him and he wrapped his arms around her narrow waist.

It wasn’t just once, and that was very lucky for Spike, because the first time he lasted only about eight minutes, maybe nine. Fluttershy smiled, a little smile that put dimples at the corners of her mouth, but she didn’t laugh at him.

“If anything, I’m flattered,” she had told him.

She got up from the bed and disappeared into the living room for a minute. She came back with a bottle of pink Champagne in an ice bucket and two crystal glasses. But as she stood naked before him, Champagne was the last thing Spike wanted. They lay together, sipping Champagne and enjoying each other’s warmth. When Fluttershy sat up, the sheet slipped away from her nipples and Spike felt himself begin to stir again. She caressed his face with her free hand.

“You’ve had thirds. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in fourths?”

Spike put his own Champagne down beside the bed.

“As a matter of fact...”

The first time was embarrassing, the second time was good, and the third was quite a bit better. But the fourth time... was the charm.

“I will treat you to your fantasy,” she said. “I’ll nurse you, and feed you all the milk you want and need.”

After two hours, Fluttershy began to cry out softly. But it was him whispering “Come for me. Please” into her ear that sent her over the edge.

“Was I good?” she asked.

“You were more than good, babe. You were great,” he said. “I wish I could have been better.”

“I wish I could have been better,”

“Baby, you’re the best,” Spike said as he wrapped his arms around her again. “You are so pretty, so pretty and kind.”

Spike didn’t know how Fluttershy knew what she said next, but somehow a little Jockeypanese escaped her lips.

“Ai shi teru, Spike-kun,” she said.

I love you, Spike.

“Ai she teru, Fluttershy-san,” he whispered back.

Rich Enterprises Incorporated.

Like the Flimflam Brothers, they had a clear hierarchy among their employees, and the only thing they cared about was money. It was the only thing they respected. That and how skilled at gambling their employees were. Those were the rules. That was all that mattered.

The Rich Resort and Casino, which was the largest casino in the world, had been built on a massive scale: the main complex totaled five million square feet, with half a million of those feet dedicated to gambling. The casino boasted 500 table games and more than ten thousand slot machines spread through ten distinct gambling areas. The company’s total 100,000 employees serviced an estimated 250,000 guests daily—an incredible accomplishment.

An architectural and entreprenueal phenomenon designed to make every visitor’s jaw drop. The mini-replica of Manehattan was like a guidebook gone three-dimensional: tourists wandered from a replica of Maneway Station at one entrance to the Bronclyn Bridge at another, passing by a one-third-size The Mare Statue, as well as detailed representations of Saddle Row, the Rink at Rockefillyer Center, and even Bridleway. The casino itself looked like the back lot of an Applewood movie studio, the décor so authentic that you could smell fresh bagels above the customary scent of cigarettes and cheap perfume.

But even though it was one of the great “wonders” of Las Pegasus, the casino was definitely not a favorite among professional gamblers. So many tourists came just to gawk that the narrow pathways winding through the resort were jammed in a constant state of pedestrian gridlock. It was built like a labyrinth to keep people in, and security had an eye and an ear on everything. Impossibly Rich was also tapped into the federal fingerprint database.

The Rich Family’s greatest strength was also their greatest weakness: ego (something they shared with Twilight Sparkle). As for Impossibly Rich herself, she was a machine. She arrived at her Resort every day at 2:00 P.M., in the same car, driven the same chauffer, the family’s butler Randolph. Impossibly Rich remembered every valet’s name on her way in (not bad for a woman worth three-quarters of a trillion). She had offices upstairs, she worked hard, hit the lobby floor at 7:00 P.M. on the nose. Her right-hand was her son, Filthy Rich; and her left-hand was her haughty casino manager, Abacus Cinch. She spent three minutes talking with Cinch, all business. Between Filthy and Cinch, the place was covered.

Impossibly Rich liked to know what went on in all of her casinos, from the rotation of the dealers’ to the path of every cash cart. She liked to be in control (also like Sparkle). She knew everything about every guard, watcher, anyone with a security pass; where they were from, nicknames, and how they took their coffee. There was rarely an incident she didn’t know about or handle personally. She spent a few minutes glad-handing the high rollers. She was fluent in Latin, Germane, and Itailian, and she was taking lessons in Jockeypanese (getting pretty good at it). She was out by 7:30 P.M. when Filthy Rich handed her a black portfolio with the day’s profits and new security codes. Then they headed to the restaurant for dinner.

Long story short, Impossibly Rich was as smart as she was ruthless. The last guy she caught cheating, not only did she have him sent up the river for ten years, she also had the bank seize his house and bankrupted his brother-in-law’s tractor dealership. Impossibly Rich didn’t just take out people’s knees, she went after their livelihood. She ruined their lives and the lives of anybody they knew.

Impossibly Rich’s office was typical Applewood; with its eclectic styling of furniture, walls littered with photos of the woman shaking hands with politicians and movie stars, and the liberal amount of unnatural lighting, it was all flash and almost no class. And in that upstairs office, Impossibly Rich sat at a ten million dollar redwood desk with four phones – one to call her son, one to call her lawyer, one to call her masseur, and one to call her personal trainer (the latter two of which were also her lovers). And there was a silver tray by the window, stacked with bottles of only the finest liquor. Iron Will stood at the far end of the office while half a dozen women, wearing maroon vests and/or jackets with pleated plaid skirts and matching high heels, stood in the center of the room.

One, named Sunny Flare, had cerise eyes, a mulberry bob haircut with raspberry streaks, dark eye shadow, and wore a pair of metal bracers on her wrists that had been outfitted with miniature computers. Another girl, Sour Sweet, had pale skin, freckles on her cheeks, and a rose-colored ponytail with a streak of aquamarine, which matched her eye shadow. Another, Sugarcoat, had orchid eyes behind glasses with orange frames, light gray hair with light arctic bluish streaks that was done up in twin pigtails and she had the shortest skirt of them all, but wore pantyhose with her socks. The fourth, Lemon Zest, had amber eyes, hair the color of pistachios with various highlights, pink skin and blue eye shadow. And the fifth, Indigo Zap, had golden eyes, hair that was three shades of blue, and wore a pair of flight goggles and sneakers instead of high heels.

The only thing that tied them together was the power they wielded as members of Impossibly Rich’s inner circle. Power derived from the authority of Impossibly Rich and her family. They were soon joined by Abacus Cinch. Cinch was in her mid-fifties, with fuchsia hair, thick lips, a grandmotherly face, and angry eyes. And like the younger women, she was wearing a tailored maroon suit with tiny glasses.

“Miss Rich, the data we have on the young man who recently started work at the Flimflam Brothers’ Resort,” Cinch said.

She handed Impossibly Rich a beige folder and Impossibly Rich started going through its contents.

Spike Drake, 22-years-old, orphaned at age four, and was adopted by Celestia Soleil shortly after. He barely knew his birthmother, Barbara, but he inherited a lot of money from her when she died. He was rich, he was bored, and he was talented. A college graduate with mysterious means of income and a nonconformist lifestyle.

“So, the Serpent’s son has appeared in my paradise,” Impossibly Rich said.

She closed the folder and looked at her employees around the room. They had all heard the stories surrounding the young man... including the rumors.

“Care to share any thoughts, ladies?” she asked.

“He’s awesome if he could take down Sparkle so quickly!” Indigo Zap said.

“I bet he’s full of himself after beating that peon,” Sour Sweet added.

“Hold on!” Lemon Zest cut in. “How did she get to be at the top again?”

“I think that’s enough,” Sugarcoat stated as she readjusted her glasses.

“So, how exactly do you plan to dispose of Spike Drake?” Abacus Cinch inquired.

“Seriously, I find the situation developing to be rather interesting,” Sunny Flare told them. “Why don’t we do some more meddling?”

Impossibly Rich smiled, and then agreed.

“I have a question for you, though,” Iron Will interjected. “Are you sure that’s what you wanted? Why did you want me to cause such a big scene? What did you have me do that for?”

“To test the extent of Spike’s power,” Impossibly Rich replied. “We are going to learn everything about him.”

Next time, to impress her father (and the Flimflam Brothers), Starlight asks Spike and the girls to perform in the staff ballroom dancing competition in the hopes of beating archrival hotelier Impossibly Rich’s team. There’s just one problem: the girls need to learn how to dance first.