Stealing Her Laboured Breaths

Star Singer was laying in the bed next to me, still asleep. At least, I thought that's what her name was. Probably wasn't.

I didn't care about the lie. I slipped out of bed quietly, taking my time to tuck her back in so the covers were nestled under her fuzzy chin and her hooves were pushed over to the side. She looked peaceful in her slumber, if a little fitful. I knew she wouldn't wake up for a little while—ponies never did once I was finished with them.

I walked into the bathroom, stretching off as I went, but truthfully, I felt perfect. Not tired or groggy despite the drinks I'd sank last night with the now sleeping escort. No, I felt perfect. Like I was floating on a cloud.

I opened the sliding door to the showers, tiles clean, no rust on the nozzle. I gave it a test with my horn, turning the dial and watching it shoot out a small jettison of water. Warm. Not bad for a cheap hotel. Not bad at all.

It wasn't long until I was showered, until the smell of sex was off of me. It was a smell I'd grown awfully used to over the years—almost an aphrodisiac in its own nature, I supposed. Once I was all clean, I wrapped a towel around my barrel and walked over to the mirror. A fluffy, snowy white mane sat atop my head, complimenting my light blue coat. My eyes were a shiny, ruby red. I looked... spectacular. Better than usual. That was always the case on these mornings. There was an allure to me, I could feel it—one that you didn't really have to look for, one that was almost impossible to describe. It was just... there, and that's all there was to it.

My handsome face was pervasive. It was more handsome than it had any right being, more handsome than I remembered. I smiled at it. I couldn't help it. How could I not smile at a face like that? It was fleeting moments like these that I realised why I had no trouble finding a date when I was on top of my game.

...then why had I paid for it last night? Thoughts of weeks and months past flooded my mind; I put a lid on them, pushed them back, told them to stay the hell away, and they listened. For how long, I had no clue, but they'd listened nonetheless. I'd be alright for now. I was fed. I was satisfied. I could go for a while like this.

"City Scraper?" came the call of the escort, who must've just woken up. Awfully fast, considering. I would've thought she'd be out for another hour or two. If anything, that relieved me. Meant maybe the symptoms were finally in remission.

"Yeah, I just got out of the shower!" I replied. The escort wasn't the only one who pretended to be someone else. My name was City Scraper just as much as the sky was made of daffodils, but to her, to most ponies, that's who I was. Junior architect, worked with companies in Manehatten and Las Pegasus, even Canterlot. Made good bits. Ponies didn't understand a name like 'Justin', you see. Made no sense to them.

It wasn't hard for me to remember the last time I'd told a pony my real name. That said, it was certainly hard.

I stepped out of the bathroom after having brushed my teeth, towel still around me, and found, not to my especial surprise, that Star Singer had positioned herself on the bed in a manner that showed off all of her best assets. Same old. "I'm off the clock now, but I don't suppose you'd like another turn on the house?" she batted her full, false eyelashes, and I tried to ignore the way her eyeliner had smudged and her mascara had ran from the night before. "I don't exactly make this offer often, but..." she bit her lip. I could feel a stirring beneath my sheath. It was the natural reaction to something like this. "you were damned good last night. One of the best I've had the pleasure of bedding..."

I wanted to turn her down straight away, but something got caught in my throat. She wasn't exactly a high class prostitute, but I remembered her being a good fuck. She had a thick, curly mane that had bounced when she was beneath me being filled, and a small frame that made it so I could easily see the outline of my cock inside of her when I fucked her. She'd had stamina—that was rare with any pony I bedded. Came like a sprinkler, too, and her moans were delectable.

They almost made my stomach growl.

Good body on her, she wanted some more of me. Could it hurt to simply give it to her? Lust was addling my mind, I knew it, but in moments like this, when the hardness of my length was pressing against the towel so heavily I was sure the thing was about to fall off, it was difficult to say no. No, it was more than that. It was near-impossible.

So I walked up to her. She sat there all demure and needy, nothing like the powerful presence she'd been the night before. She wanted me to take her, I could see it in her eyes, in the way her breath hitched when I ran a hoof along her side and brought it up to her mane.

I pushed her back. I didn't waste time kissing. I knew she was already wet, I could see from her expression alone. In moments, I was pressing my shaft against her stomach, weight pushing down on her and rooting her in place, hooves over her forelegs as she grinned up at me.

I felt like a predator, and she felt like a statue, her entire body locked in anticipation as she waited for me to bring it back to life. Magic was useful for lining myself up; I was hardly dexterous. I pushed the head of my cock inside her. She was an amazing fit. She cried out, and from that alone, I could feel my body beginning to burn with satisfaction. For most guys—for me, once—the cock was a conduit of pleasure, the place they'd feel it most. It was different for me. I felt that same satisfaction rocking me inside and out as I continued to enter her, pushing deeper into her soft, velvety pink flesh and robbing her of her energy.

Something in the back of my mind reminded me how little time it had been since I last fucked her.

I know, right? Lucky me.

I was going to hurt her. I knew it already, I'd made peace with it the moment I'd indulged her. The longer we carried this on, the more she moaned, the more she clenched around my throbbing cock as I pushed it in and out of her, her mane covering her face as she attempted to blow it out of the way, her body arching up as she kissed at my neck...

I ignored my creeping morality. It always intervened at the worst moments. I was trying to enjoy myself! I began to work myself into a rhythm. I'd had a lot of practice, of course, and time enough last night to work out what she liked, so I took control, and made sure to work in gentle strokes with the rough ones, to keep her guessing and with no clue what she should expect next. She was probably used to selfish guys, one and done, with no interest as to how she reacted, but I monitored her enjoyment like a caring, loving partner. I needed her to enjoy it, after all, or else I'd get nothing out of it.

She had her hind legs wrapped around me. She was a prostitute. I wouldn't need to worry about getting her pregnant even if I was able to. Knowing as much was just another reason on my growing list of why I didn't need to hold back, why I didn't need to be concerned about her. And why would I be? She was enjoying it! Did ponies that refused to let me go, that invited me over to fuck, that squeezed their soft pussies around my cock and begged me with their eyes to finish inside of them... did they need my concern?!

Her breaths were growing faint and wispy. I wondered if she was going to pass out at this rate. I shouldn't have been doing this, I needed to leave her be, to make an excuse... I was already full. What reason did I have to carry on like this, no matter how much she wanted it?

But it felt so fucking good...

All around us I could hear the wet slap of hips meeting, of her being pushed further than she understood how to cope with. Poor little Star Singer. She'd dealt with seedy, dirty men for so long that she'd forgotten what a proper fuck was like! I was here to show her now, to give her what she needed, to rejuvenate her!

Then why did she look so breathless? Why did she twitch by compulsion, almost catatonic? She wasn't being filled, she was having something taken from her. I was taking something from her. I was a parasite.

She pulled me in deeper. Must've been some last vestige of her energy. I couldn't help but cum from the feeling, cock spasming in need, entire body alight as I shot spurt after spurt of my seed into her pussy, taking what was mine, what I'd earned, the pleasure immeasurable and beyond anything I could ever remember until I was in this precise moment, a pony beneath me and a wracking crescendo of tingling bliss shaking my entire body until I was once again satisfied and still.

And then I pulled out. It wasn't a romantic thing, it didn't need to be. Star Singer was already falling asleep. I felt as if I could run ten miles and not lose my breath.

I went back to the bathroom to clean myself up. I looked in the mirror.

I looked even more attractive than earlier.

I'd left her with a large bonus and called the desk to ask for a late checkout before leaving. She was going to need the sleep. I couldn't stay. I didn't want to risk her waking up and wanting to go with me a third time.

I wanted to kick myself. Did I have no willpower? Was I really happy to make such bullshit justifications as to her infatuation with me, tell myself it was okay to fuck her again and again?

No, I needed out. It wasn't okay, and it needed to stop while she still felt good from it.

Despite the guilt wracking my mind, I felt amazing. It was hard not to. I'd not just eaten, I'd indulged. Having sex once was enough to keep me level and healthy for a good few days, but twice? It was like sipping at the elixir of life, tasting ambrosia from heaven.

I could never see that escort again. Not that I particularly wanted to, of course. Nothing special about her, she was a by-product of my need. Probably a sweet mare despite the occupation, not someone I'd want to see harm come to. Why do you think I left?

City Scraper was a stallion that a lot of ponies knew, but not many ponies knew. That was wholly intentional. My situation... it complicated things. Made it more than difficult to hold down real or meaningful relationships, even friendships. Since I'd arrived in Equestria, only a couple of ponies had ever learnt of my true nature. Princess Celestia was one of the only ones who knew me as Justin, though she knew nothing of my affliction. I'd met her three times in total, once shortly after arriving. Together, we'd agreed that it was easier for me to adopt a persona and act as if I was a pony. That it'd arouse less questions, less worries, and make the process of integrating into Equestrian society much simpler.

This was turning out to be anything but simple. But right now, I didn't want to worry about that. I went for a run. I went to the local gym and burned off some excess energy. I walked and shopped and saw sights, but nothing I did in Fillydelphia was helping me alleviate the buzz I felt right then. I ended up getting a train back sooner than I expected. Back to Ponyville, back to where I lived.

There was a simple reason I'd taken the train so far out in the first place, and it had to do with shitting where you slept. A person—or rather, pony—with my affliction had to be careful, after all. Trying to stay full and healthy at home? That would have... complicated things. Made the condition a lot more difficult to hide.

I'd often wondered what would happen to me if ponies found out. It wasn't as if it was all by choice.

Train ride was long and boring. I'd once found the fields and forests of Equestria to be an amazing thing to look at, noticed the subtle differences between the environment here and that of Earth, but as time had passed, my memory had faded some, the novelty had worn off. All just looked like trees and grass now. Quotidian. Repetitive. Long. Boring.

It was a good hour and a half until I was back in Ponyville. I kept my head down or out of the window as best I could on the train. Last thing I needed right now was another pony taking an interest in me. I doubted I'd even be courteous with them this time, probably just shoo them away. I couldn't go any further right now, after all. Bedding someone else in such a short time would be bordering on hedonism. It'd been a long time since I'd had many sexual encounters that close together. Part of me wondered what'd happen to my body as a result if I carried on.

It was mental flirtation with the idea of a high that made everything else pale in comparison. One I could scarcely recall, but would instinctively know again if I ever felt it. I tried to ignore its subtle, barely comprehensible siren call, which took form in the next pair of flanks I saw, the soft coat of a mare walking by, the voice of—Christ, voices were doing it for me too, now?

I needed to get home. Be alone for a little while. Just a few hours to cool off, and I'd be fine.

I felt like myself again. Going home had done me some good. I'd read a book, lit some candles, had a long bath that I really didn't need for the sake of cleanliness... my mind felt relaxed. It was far and away from hunger. Thoughts were clear, everything was nice and simple. I liked simple. Simple couldn't hurt anyone.

Wasn't long until I was tired of sitting around the house. It was isolated and lonely, just as I wanted it to be, but that didn't mean I enjoyed it. I decided to head out for a coffee. Figured it couldn't hurt to enjoy a hot drink.

Weather was horrible, all snowy and damp, but that was only more of a reason to warm up with a latte. I slipped on a suit before leaving, thick jacket over the top, and put some boots on my hooves that'd work through the snow a little more easily. I didn't waste time in getting to the coffee place I liked, not with the wind biting at me and attempting to throw me off course. Place was rather empty by the time I arrived. Probably not many ponies that wanted to be out in weather like this at this time of evening.

Barista was friendly and efficient. He had my drink made in moments, just how I liked it, and I, of course, left a tip. I went and sat in the corner of the coffee shop, a couch by the window with a table I could place my drink at. I held the cup over my face, hairs on my muzzle bristling from the heat. It was nice to feel something warm against me, and the aroma of the coffee was enticing. Wasn't long until I took a sip, admiring the taste and the texture. They treated their beans right here, made a damn good brew.

The coffee shop was essentially empty for a good five minutes, but the door cracked open soon after. I recognised the pony that walked in almost instantly, but I'd never been so close to her. Not in a one on one setting, either. Princess Twilight Sparkle. Easily the most important pony in this town and one of the most in Equestria, and there she was at the door, attempting and struggling to pull a large bag through the gap with her magic. She was wrapped in a coat and scarf and wore four fluffy boots, clearly dressed for the cold.

She struggled and panted and yanked at the thing with ethereal tendrils as the door still refused to budge, adorable little grunts of exertion lilting from her muzzle and carrying through the rather silent room, wind whistling outside. She was a helpless damsel, and I couldn't bring myself to watch much longer.

Placing my cup down, I walked over and pushed the door a little wider. It was a heavy thing, I could see why she was finding it fiddly. As soon as I did so, she was able to pull her bag the rest of the way through. She smiled at me. "Thanks! I was having a lot of trouble there..." she had red cheeks, and I couldn't tell if it was embarrassment or cold. "I'm Twilight. What's your name?"

I looked at her with a small measure of incredulity. I looked at the hoof she'd held out to shake even more so. I couldn't help but chuckle. "I know who you are, your highness. I'd be surprised if there was anyone who didn't. My name's City Scraper. It's an honour to meet you."

The freezing princess rolled her eyes. I kinda liked that. Almost as much as the image of an all-powerful alicorn not being able to get a door open. "What honour? We're in a coffee shop, not a diplomat's meeting. I'm just a normal pony, call me Twilight. None of that princess stuff."

I liked that even more. "Alright, I'm sorry, Twilight, then." I returned the gesture, shaking her hoof. We both looked a little silly, considering each of us was wearing boots over our hooves, and it led to an awkward shared laugh. "Don't suppose there's a reason you're carrying half of Equestria in that bag?" Probably shouldn't have been asking a princess about her business, but screw it, she wanted to act casual.

"They're supplies for Ponyville's schoolhouse," she replied, and I made an effort not to wince. "Hold on. I'm just going to go get a drink, and I'll come sit with you. Couldn't hurt to have a little company."

I pondered whether she'd seen my face, felt the glow I let off, and decided I was more than worth talking to. I was probably one of the best looking stallions she'd ever seen, to my own chagrin. Sometimes, I wished it was an overly inflated sense of ego that made me say such things, rather than the simple act of me acknowledging the truth.

It wasn't long until Twilight had gotten her drink and walked over. It was a milky coffee with little chocolate sprinkles on top, sweet like her. She deposited her bag on the floor with a loud thump before taking a seat opposite me. "Hey. Sorry if this is a little forward, I just didn't really feel like sitting on my own right now."

"Something bothering you?" I asked, already knowing the answer. I really wasn't in the least bit surprised that she'd came over, and I already knew what she was going to say.

"Honestly? Yeah..." Twilight took a small sip of her drink, but she didn't seem to be able to enjoy it. It was almost like a compulsion, something she'd done just because it was there, rather than to actually savour the taste. "I made a bit of a brash decision yesterday. Told the school board that I'd be taking over classes at the schoolhouse until they found a permanent replacement for Miss Cheerilee."

"A replacement?" I repeated, taking a long sip of my drink as my eyes remained trained on Twilight.

Twilight sighed. "Cheerilee is the teacher for Ponyville's schoolhouse, and hasn't been in the best condition recently..." she cut herself off, shaking her head. "That's an understatement, sorry. Cheerilee is in the hospital. She's been in a coma for the last two weeks, and they don't think she's waking up any time soon..." Twilight propped her head up on her hooves, looking as if she wanted to simply slump. "I've got two days left to get myself caught up on their curriculum and figure out how to break it to the foals that Cheerilee might not be coming back. I'm pretty stressed, and I'm totally unloading it on you, a stranger that helped me with my bag."

To say that Twilight looked dishevelled right now would be an understatement. I'd met a princess before. Regal thing, Celestia was. Could barely sense her emotions. With Twilight, she laid them all bare. Was she meaning to? Was she always like this? Was there a reason this moment of vulnerability was stirring something in me? "It's fine." I said it by instinct. I knew things weren't fine for her, not at all, but I also felt a need to say something. "I worked as a teacher once, you know, when I was younger."

Twilight's head titled. She gave me a funny look, one that seemed to forget her stresses and replace them with glinting-eyed curiosity. "You did?" She looked me up and down, probably focussed on the suit. "You don't look like the type, if you'll excuse my saying so."

I laughed. I expected I didn't. "It's been a while." I didn't know where I was going with this, or why I was, but I kept talking regardless. I was loving this, strangely enough. "I used to enjoy helping foals, once upon a time. It's been a while, but I remember there was a lot of fun to be had out of it." I knew where I was driving at. I knew I shouldn't have been. I was doing it anyway, worries be damned. "Maybe I could help you out, somehow?"

I regretted it the moment I said it. I hoped she'd say no, that I was offering too much, or that I'd done enough for her already. But that didn't happen. No. Her eyes caught the shine of a pony who had just been given something they never realised they wanted, hit with a proposition they wouldn't have considered before. There was interest in those eyes, and I could tell it was for more than my offer. In a way, I didn’t regret it. "Are you sure you'd be able to? I wouldn't be taking up too much of your time, would I? I would really appreciate it, but you don't have to, not at all."

She was being polite, courteous, but I could hardly back out now. We both knew I'd agree. I'd offered, after all. So I nodded. I nodded and smiled, and she smiled back, and before you knew it, we were both smiling. Grinning like idiots, really. "Anything to help a pony in need," I tacked on. I didn't need to say that, wasn't sure why I did. It had slipped out in the moment like the rest of my impulsive words.

"I honestly can't thank you enough," Twilight said, blinking rapidly, her exterior looking soft and fragile. It made me hungry again, but I knew I didn't need it.

Then why was I doing this?

"Do you think you could come by the castle tomorrow afternoon? That'd be a huge help, so long as you're happy to."

What had I been thinking when I'd said yes? "Of course, that works fine by my schedule." And of course, said yes again. I wasn't thinking, was the easiest way to put it. I liked her, didn't I? It wasn't hard for me to tell that I had an interest, but it was... shocking. Not something I was used to in the slightest. Her mannerisms, maybe? The contrast between what I'd expected a pony of her station to act like and how she actually came across? Something had me hooked, that was all I knew.

And it only served to make me worry more.

“I don’t get the chance to just talk to ponies anymore these days,” Twilight sighed, in her own adorable way. It lifted me out of my slump, made me want to be sure she’d never have to sigh again. “Thank you for being here, even if it was just to hear me complain.” A pause. She sounded fragile. I didn’t want her to be, but all the same, I wouldn’t change her if I’d had the chance. “Tell me a little about you, City Scraper. Humour me. I need a distraction from all of this, and you’re the best one I could hope for.”

I could feel my heart fluttering at her words. There was something about her that was different to all of the usual suspects. They were lustful, wanting, weak-willed ponies that cared more about their own needs than simply connecting with another. It had been a long time since a pony had wanted to get to know me for me, not following some sordid evening after too many drinks. And all the while, I was wondering at the fact that she’d asked, rather than trying to come up with an answer. I was so stupid!

But she was so patient. She watched me with wide eyes, anticipating my reactions, not rushing me or otherwise spurring me along, but remaining her placid, calm, caring self. I didn’t know her, but I felt as if I knew her. It didn’t make much sense. The quickened breath I was desperate to hide didn’t either.

“I’m an architect,” I stated, rather simply, going through the usual routine as best I could. I saw her blink at that, she was impressed. My pride swelled a little. “Well, trainee architect. I still work under a senior, but I’ll be in a full position by the end of the year. I work across Equestria, ranging from modern buildings to stonemasonry designs, even railroad schematics.” A delicate hum as I considered which example to pull out, and I landed on a good one. “Have you seen the new theatre in Canterlot’s art district? Me and my team were responsible for the design.”

Twilight looked rather impressed, but there was something to her that seemed a little off. It was disarming, almost. “That’s really amazing,” she said, and it sounded genuine. “I’ve never met an architect before, trainee or not, but I think what you do is amazing. The new theatre in Canterlot is beautiful, almost reminiscent of neo-gryffonian architecture…” Her voice trailed off, it left me wondering what to say next.

Had I offended her somehow? I was scared that it might be the case, that I’d come across all boastful and self-important. I began to realise that my smile was balanced on the tip of her lips, that I was so easily distracted from a flick of her hair that I forgot where we were. And she was holding something back, I could sense it. “But?” I offered, at a loss, hoping she’d give me something to work with, allow me another chance. I’d never chased a girl like this before, and especially not just to keep on talking.

“It’s just…” Twilight hesitated, biting her lip, which was the most tantalising thing I think I’d ever seen. “You told me what you do, but you didn’t really tell me anything about you. What do you like? What’s your favourite thing to do in the world? What’s the first spell you ever cast?”

I could tell her the last spell she’d cast easily enough—it was on me. “My absolute favourite thing to do?” I honestly had to think about this. So much time I spent worrying, fighting against my own nature, trying to stay healthy… what did I really do when I wasn’t doing any of those things? What was left? What had I enjoyed more than anything else in the last however many years? “This is my favourite thing,” I answered.

“Drinking coffee after a long day?”

“Speaking to a stranger,” I answered, taking a sip of my drink, having been reminded it even existed. “Learning more about her. Wondering what else there is to know, and wanting to slowly unearth it all.” I watched as she took in my words, the hints of a blush appearing on her soft, smooth features, and then took another sip of my drink. “That and the coffee. That’s not bad either.”

She giggled. It was intoxicating. I’d never been drunk on a princess before.

“This might just be my favourite thing too.”

A few more words were exchanged between us, and before long, the princess and her heavy bag were on their way, waiting for me to come over the next day. It was only when I came down from the high that was Twilight that I had to tell myself the terrible truth.

This was too high profile. This was dangerous. She was a fucking princess of the country I lived in! If anyone was decisively off limits, if there was anypony who would surely be able to sniff out my curse, it was a pony like her! This spelt bad news, and I knew it, but what could I do now? In my stupid, wanting, selfish mind, I'd told myself it was okay to spend more time around her, that nothing would happen!

Of course something would happen. Something always happened! This was breaking rule number one, this was shitting on my own doorstep. I had something good here. A quiet town that scarcely knew who I was, somewhere I could live in relative peace, and I was doing everything in my power to fuck that up. I couldn't slip away to eat if ponies knew me here, they'd start wondering where I was going! I could only blame it on business trips for so long until someone smelled a rat, and then what would I do?

There was a blackness in my mind that swirled and smothered my thoughts like a charcoal, scorched plague. I hated myself. I hated what I had to do to live, what was born out of a cruel and ugly necessity, the condition I'd been stricken with that was just as real, just as potent as the plight of the comatose teacher's! I didn't deserve this. The ponies around me didn't deserve this.

I didn't wish to hurt anyone else.

And yet. And yet... maybe there was hope for me yet. A small one, a fleeting one, probably one I was lying to myself about if only to make myself feel better, but maybe it was hope. I hadn't been interested in a pony in a good long while, but that one? That Twilight... I wouldn't hurt her. I wouldn't let myself hurt her. I never asked Twilight what happened to Cheerilee. I only realised that now.

My thoughts finally settled, and my eyes did the same. I found myself looking at the menu, debating over a refill. I saw the sandwich options lined out on one end of the menu and grimaced a tad. I'd already eaten recently. Twice, as a matter of fact.

I thought back to Twilight one last time. Maybe I still hadn't had my fill.