The bass pounded in the trees, casting unsure echoes in the forest clearing. It wasn't the ideal setup, but any good musician knew that music wasn't about the perfect reproduction of a sequence of notes, but the feelings and mood generated through them. And every venue, no matter what, had its own set of exploitable traits. For example, the wind in the Whispering Woods made the trees sway in the light, adding a slow hissing that rose and fall with the chill in the air. Similarly, there was no practical reason to have a bonfire in the middle of the 'dance floor', but the uncertain shadows were worth it, the light dancing and leaping like a thing alive. Just the sort of setting that would suit darker music - tunes to bring the nightmare to life in the mind's eye, themes and beats to make the timid shy away and seek the company of others. In short, it was not a night to be dancing alone, and her job was to make certain that ponies wanted to get in close.
Another lyric warned the listener to fear the dark, and the crowd got in just a little closer. Eyes were wide, not because they had seen something terrible but in expectation that they might. And, as she directed them, they began to get much closer; ponies smiling and flirting and giving each other unspoken dares. Partygoers pairing off in one or twos, to see if they could brave the darkness of the forest together. That was Vinyl Scratch's joy; she created something visceral with what, just hours before, was only a pile of scattered electronic equipment lying around the ground. That, of course, and the fact that she could bare her heart to the world, take center stage and create joy in the hearts of ponies - all while her shameful little secret was carefully hidden away.
The hair had been easiest; combing a respectful hairstyle to one side and spiking it up made it distinct and recognizable - she didn't usually use any products on her mane at all in her civillian life, and if she did, it was just to slick her hair back. The glasses were next, hiding her eyes from sight - they never came down; rumors had spread that her irises were as red as blood, a rumor she would pointedly neither confirm nor deny. Her cutie mark was easy to hide, being a unicorn; it was just a simple note, plain black over white fur - simplistic in design, but the oddness of a single monochrome symbol being her personal identifier was perhaps the least attention-drawing thing about her disguise. And finally, she puffed her tail out, turning it into a giant static-driven mess - not only distinctive, but just the thing to hide her birth gender from view.
That last part was the most critical, and part of why her disguise worked. Otherwise, ponies might have been suspicious, two unicorns of similar stocky builds with pristine white coats and two-tone blue hair. But that was the point, after all. One pony was the captain of the Royal Guard who sat at the side of the throne itself; one pony was a underground DJ who had no family, no home, no posessions, and no goals other than to party. And, lest one forget, one was a stallion, one was a mare. It was absolutely ridiculous to imply that they might be one and the same - and that was the reason the disguise worked as well as it did for as long as it had.
The bass pounded, and for a moment, Vinyl was reminded of her first band - a simple throw-together she had made to impress a mare. It worked, but as her friends went back to normal, back to their games, Vinyl had stuck with it. Four colts became three, became two, as graduation one by one took them their separate ways. Finally, even Poindexter had left, leaving Vinyl alone. That was when her second life had began - Shining Armor had stepped into a green room, and Vinyl Scratch teleported on stage to the love of dozens. Dozens became scores. Scores became hundreds. And hundreds became a club gig, with a full-fledged second life to match.
She didn't hate her old life; as a matter of fact, her life as Captain of the Guard was something she was incredibly proud of. If she was ashamed of anything about the lives she lead, it hung between her legs; but that was just a bit of biological inconvenience. But she loved being Vinyl Scratch just as much. She loved that devil-may-care grin that came so easily when the spikey hair went up. She loved the way she could move crowds, read them effortlessly, guide them through terror and joy, carnal lust and heartsick nostalgia with incredible ease. If she was feeling froggy, sometimes all four all in one night. And when the sun began to peek over the horizon, when it was finally time for the night to end, she collapsed into her own bed blissfully. The mornings were Shining Armor's problem; but his nights belonged to her.
The crowd swayed, having been led to cool down by a lull in the music; strings invited the listener to mark time with their bodies instead of with their hooves. But one talented mare in the crowd was still bouncing. Vinyl took a look at her - a skinny, wrangly thing, a pink unicorn in a black hoodie and a black skirt. Black on black, hoodies on skirts - mysterious black was the fashion, and though Vinyl Scratch would never say it into a microphone, it was a stupid fashion. But the unicorn made it work for her; the skirt swung and twirled with her dance moves while the hoodie hugged to her sides, her face hidden, bare hints of grins as the mare bounced around and up against other dancers. The point of wearing mysterious fashion, after all, was to be something that you dared others to discover - but Vinyl Scratch tore her attention away forcibly. Much as she could imagine 'discovering' this mare, she already had someone wonderful waiting at home.
The bass pounded, and Vinyl lost herself in the crossfade as she started something faster, something brighter, something to get the herd's hooves up in the air again. Even her own hooves were softly tapping, makring the time as she checked her mix queues. That's what she hated the most about this job; it was her music, yes, but it was work. Timings had to be perfect - a hundredth of a second off would be immediately noticed, yet it was just below a pony's maximum reaction time, meaning she had to obsessively match beats. Many a day, she'd rather be out in the crowd than there in the booth. Of cousre, there were practical considerations to take into account; first and foremost, her stallionhood. Behind the mixing tables, firmly out of view, she was safe; on the dance floor, one flirt too far and it'd be all over for her. But she couldn't help but imagine.
Vinyl Scratch closed her eyes, nodding in time to the music, and let herself imagine - what if genetics had played out just a little different, what if Vinyl Scratch had been the first life and Shining Armor the second. Oh, things would be much the same. She'd still run herself ragged from sunup to sundown and from sundown to sunup. She'd still get testy with cadets and overexacting at work; nothing of that would have changed. But, presumably, she would not have caught Cadance's eye; she might not even have met the group that helped her meet Cadance in the first place. So she'd be free to set a long song on, get in the crowd, bounce around, dance a little. She imagined herself catching some cute colt's eye with a grin of her own. Lost in her fantasies, Vinyl Scratch hiked her tail up and flicked it playfully to either side, imagining what sort of show she'd be giving any stallion lucky enough to catch her eye. And not for the first time, she found herself wishing it was real - wondering what it'd feel like to have somepony behind her leaving a warm breath on her marehood, instead of the cold night air over her stallionhood. Odd. That imaginary breath on her felt unusually warm, and moist...
Turning her head just enough to look behind her, she saw why. From underneath a black hoodie, a smug, flirtatious smile - that same unicorn Vinyl saw on the dance floor moments ago, now just behind her. That mare pursed her lips again, and blew again, over Vinyl's exposed malehood. Vinyl squeaked and curled her tail back over herself quickly, but the damage had already been done; despite all her efforts, Vinyl now couldn't get that stirring out of her mind. She quickly whirled, expecting to react with anger, wondering if she had it in her to just throw the offending unicorn off the DJ's stage - and was caught off guard when the mare met her in a quick kiss.
"I'm just a fan," the pink unicorn shouted, barely audible above the background of sound. "And I just wanted to show my appreciation for everything you've done tonight."
After a few moments of gaping, and trying to gather her wits, the fanfilly rested her hoof on Vinyl's lips, shaking her head. No more words passed between them - but there was a smirk on the mare's lips, as she carefully lay back. Tugging the strings of her hood so as to keep her eyes covered, the anonymous filly licked her lips - so damnably slow. Leaving her mouth slightly open, the fan beckoned Vinyl with a hoof while holding the other three close to her chest - doing her best to look enticing and adorable at once, and to her credit, managing both at once.
It was a terrible idea, of course. This fan already had knowedge about Vinyl Scratch that she kept close to the chest; exposing herself any more would risk her other life, as well. Her second life was based on making sure nopony knew about the secret between her legs - and definately not about indulging it. The gentle, romantic alicorn who she exchanged vows with was nothing like this slinky, anonymous mare who had just slipped up behind her. But if her Shining Armor's wife had ever stooped so low as to ask for it like this unicorn was doing, Shining Armor certainly would have reacted just as Vinyl Scratch was now: stepping over the prone mare and spreading her hind legs apart just enough so that secret sheath had nowhere to go but against that muzzle, daring her to go through with her promise.
For a moment, the only thing that moved between them was air; soft breaths, warm from her lips, teased against Vinyl Scratch's sheath, but no contact. But it was so damnably arousing - the stirring in her stallionhood was only growing, and any moment, there would be no hiding her true gender from the crowd. This was madness. Vinyl Scratch went to move, to step up and away from her fanfilly, to call security and let them drag the mad pony into the night. That would have been the plan, had she not just placed a pair of very warm lips up against the very base of her sheath.
The fanfilly worked slowly but adoringly, her mouth making low worshipful coos around Vinyl's sheath. Those noises could not be heared over the background, but could be distinctly felt as they shook around her growing stallionhood. She felt the fangirl's breath once more travelling - hot and warm, deep scents of her true musk followed by lusty pants - and Vinyl Scratch tensed, expecting contact. But the fangirl wasn't quite done, as her lips slid down - now stealing a taste of her idol's orbs. The feeling of those lips around her, and her tongue gently coaxing the DJ's balls further into her mouth, was too much; it was all Vinyl could do to not just yell out then and there. There was no need for those gentle hooves to tease against her sheath; her shaft in full display. But Vinyl couldn't deny that she loved the feeling.
And then, the fanfilly was moving. A brief moment of panic came, as she saw her fangirl walking away - only seconds passed, but she already had composed a very detailed apology letter to her princess, to the court-martial board, and to her wife. But that anonymous mare had just taken the time to slip in front of Vinyl Scratch, underneath the mixing table - in a black hoodie and in the shadow of her mixing board, she was almost invisible. That unicorn concentrated, and lifted her hoodie just enough to reveal her eyes for the first time - and to wink up to Vinyl Scratch, that same playful little lick of her lips she gave earlier.
The bass pounded, and Vinyl's malehood bounced in time, her bare skin far too hot against the cold night air. Base instinct told her that it was time to bury herself into her, and rut this filly senseless; her pride fought that instinct down, and she stayed still as the unicorn's head disappeared between her forelegs. Lifting a hoof, she curled it around her fan's neck, giving an affectionate little stroke to the back of her neck through her weatherbeaten hoodie. She giggled in response - and her breath followed that giggle, as she gently pursed her lips around the edge of the DJ's flare. Those lips slid in slow time, soft tugs back against the sensitive skin, and Vinyl's hoof squeezed just a little tighter. Another breath, this time cool, and Vinyl hissed in response - the chill almost painful. Drawing back, the fanfilly rested her hoof just behind Vinyl's flare, and looked up - beckoning with her free hoof. Vinyl leaned in, panting, and the mystery mare whispered up to her: "Why don't you wave to your fans?"
Vinyl Scratch looked down in disbelief. This was the worst, most terrible idea possible. In her excited state, rearing up would certainly give the entire crowd a show by firelight - unless, of course, that filly stayed down and kept her secret under control. Quickly, Vinyl Scratch looked at the anonymous filly, trying to read her expression by her posture, and gave in to her other life's love of analysis. Vinyl was already exposed, and had already had lost control of the situation; she had nothing more to lose. Instead, the fanfilly was asking for a bit of trust - and was giving some control back, in the process.
Well, I've already straddled your face and you lapped it up. That alone says volumes about your intentions.
Resting a hoof on the mixing table, Vinyl Scratch rose, looking over the crowd. There must have been hundreds, and even with her attention as divided as it was, they were still all enthralled by the music, the fire, and the night. And - as she gingerly hoisted herself - she could feel the tension in her erection - the mare keeping Vinyl's secret pointed stright at her face. Vinyl looked down at the sight, and grinned. The mare wanted to offer her control - now was time to take it. Using her magic to float a microphone over and switch it on, Vinyl turned down the music, a low backbeat becoming the theme of the night.
"What's up, everypony? How ya feeling tonight? Everpony having a good time?"
An approving din rose over music, and Vinyl grinned. She idly ran her free hoof over the mane of the anonymous fan as she looked over the crowd.
"Alright, pones, we're about to slow it down a bit, give ourselves a bit of a breather. No need to hurry," Vinyl grinned, speaking to her fan through the speakers dispersed through the forest, "We got all night, so take-"
Vinyl held back a squeak, as the mare below her slid her muzzle back around the DJ's flare, holding it in place with nothing but pursed lips and the teasing licks of a needy mare - brushing her hoodie up just enough to reveal the approving grin in her eyes.
"... take your time, everypony," Vinyl stammered out, swallowing and sliding down. "The morning's a long way away."
The crowd loved her, her fans loved her, and - with the lights down low, at least - she looked like the mare she always thought she could be. Even with a cute mare under the mixing table, nobody knew the wiser - well, one pony did, but her mouth was full. There were times that Vinyl Scratch wanted to just give up her other life - leave Shining Armor as nothing but a memory, and be Vinyl Scratch full time. This was three such moments.
The bass pounded as Vinyl faded in the next song. It was slower, but still energetic; a jazzy electroswing piece, with lyrics that dared the listener to 'make their move.' Her fanfilly certainly did, as she tilted her head off to one side - keeping her horn off in the direction of Vinyl's raised hoof so she could safely lower her muzzle down around her, even as her tongue gently tugged the shaft further in, inviting it. She lifted her head back up, and started a slow rhythm - on a whim, she moved in time with the music; dragging her tongue along the underside of her flare, then brushing it slowly against the roof of her mouth, a gentle tap at the back of her muzzle with every other measure.
Vinyl had the presence of mind to yank the mic cord, so nobody could hear her groans. Her enthusiastic little fan was starting to nurse on the tip - not the slow bobs, but a firm suction; even when the filly had to occasionally pause for a quick breath, her lips and tongue were busy, the very tip of her tongue teasing against the secret little slit on her flare. It was wonderful - but Vinyl Scratch was not one who did 'far enough'. There was always further a mix could be taken; always another instrument or influence to work in; always one more little touch to add to the stage. And so, the gentle strokes on the base of her neck slid up to the filly's horn, and captured it behind the flexor of her hoof. She gave her fan just a moment to realize what was going on, just a moment to catch her breath and feel her head trapped in Vinyl's grip - and, with a slow arch of her hips, pushed into the unicorn's muzzle.
Vinyl reared up onto the mixer table again as she slowly mated the muzzle, again moving to the beat - but this time, under her control; the slow rolls of her hips dragging her flare along her fan's tongue, smearing her taste on her. There was no stopping the inevitable now; little shudders in the way Vinyl moved made that impossible to miss. Vinyl Scratch picked up the pace, marking the time with her hips. Soon, her number one fan would get a nice, deep taste of the real DJ PON3 -
But a hoof stopped her, pressed insistantly against Vinyl's hips. Much too fast, much too quickly. Embarassed, Vinyl lifted her hoof up and away, and let the mare up to breathe again; she did so quickly, and gave a petulant little huff. Vinyl Scratch grinned apologetically, and but for the music would have apologized; and so, instead, she just lay back, exposed. She had been given control; now she gave some back. It was her fan's game, now, hers to finish - although if she chose not to, Vinyl would be incredibly tender until morning, at least. So as she watched the anonymous unicorn pout, looking at the sole entry to the DJ's booth and obviously considering taking a run for it, she said and did nothing.
Cautiously, the fanfilly stepped up, and nuzzled against the side Vinyl's shaft; scenting it again, despite having had nothing to scent but its musk for the last few minutes. She had started her festivities by lipping at the underside, just as she was now; but then, she was warming up. Now, Vinyl was tender, every sensation doubled; groaning every time her fan nuzzled where she expected, and squeaking every time her fan surprised her. Her knees really began to shake, however, as the fangirl filled her mouth with Vinyl's aching orbs, her tongue exploring his sac and the plumbing therein. A shudder grew from deep inside her, and Vinyl Scratch whimpered; there wasn't far too go...
There came a tight pressure around the base of Vinyl Scratch's abused flare - a faint glow of pink magic revealed the cord from the unplugged mic coiling about it, tugged taut in her fan's magic. That sudden pressure, much greater than any pair of lips could provide, was the point of no return. With her fan slowly nursing her orbs, Vinyl fired, her seed bursting into her shaft - and, trapped by the cord, had nowhere to go but the narrow canal, her shaft bloating from within.
If that had been it, it would have been tolerable. But her fan was merciless; her lips exploring over her shaft, licking under a swollen underside, lips pursing around the edge of that sensitive flare, a tongue flicking just inside Vinyl's sheath to the very base. Every time Vinyl thought she was done, the unicorn's tongue and lips and teeth would drag in just the the right way, and her groan would be followed by one more little burst. It was past the point of pleasurable pain - and Vinyl would have reared back, if it wasn't for cord that kept her trap. Effectively immobile, Vinyl raised another hoof to the table to support herself, taking as much motion as she could off of that trapped flare.
The fanfilly squirmed around, sliding under Vinyl... and, with a little tug, dared Vinyl to look. One hoof was lifted to stroke along the underside of Vinyl's stallionhood; the other propped her up just enough, so that she could tilt her head back. The hoodie was pulled taut over her face and eyes, only her glowing horn peeking out its dedicated slit in the hoodie; her muzzle and mouth were uncovered, and after a long, languid lick of her lips, she held her mouth open, the mare's magic aiming the DJ's bloated member right for her face. Vinyl almost had time to ask what she was doing -
But then, the mic cord around her flare loosened, and the seed burst - not in a series of short jerks, but as one excessive burst, over the mare's muzzle and hoodie and into her open mouth. She cooed, and showed off, before making a show of swallowing that load; a hoof sliding from the base of her sheath to the tip coaxed a few more drops into the unicorn's muzzle, and she sealed her lips around the flare, nursing out what little was left. The mare that was once clean and beautiful mare was now a sight to - lewd and messy, sticky and unapologetic. In short, she was everything rock and roll ought to be.
Overcome, Vinyl Scratch leaned back against her equipment and groaned, reaching up with a fond little stroke over her fan's ears. In response, the unicorn nuzzled up into her hoof, and smiled - she was a bit messy, but Vinyl hardly minded, squeezing her closer. After a moment, however, the unicorn pushed back against Vinyl, getting out of her embrace - and, with that same proud smile she wore at the start of the set, the fanfilly moved to walk away, a lilt to her skirt and a bounce to her step. And so, the only witness to Vinyl Scratch's indescretion was about to walk out of her life, as mysterious as it was.
An idea came to mind - a terrible, horrible idea. She had cheated enough to ruin her life - both of them. But Vinyl Scratch never disappointed a fan. And she never did things halfway. Taking the unplugged microphone in her magic, Vinyl made the cord snake between the legs of the retreating mare, loosely gripping the microphone around her neck, tugging her back. The mare nickered in surprise, but looked over her shoulder - that was enough. Vinyl walked up, taking care to show off, her face a mask of haughtiness.
"I don't know how you thought this was going to end," Vinyl said, a devilmaycare smirk on her face. "But my set's not done yet." With that, Vinyl tugged on the microphone cord. It was a very weak tie indeed; it would be nothing for the mare's own magic to whisk it off and just walk out. But Vinyl tugged again, and the fan took another step, suddenly nervous.
Vinyl could read that, however, and lifted the mare's muzzle. "Hey, hey, none of that," Vinyl said. Simultaneously, Vinyl lifted the mare's hoodie up - and her own glasses, as well, looking in the mare eye to eye. It wasn't quite effective - the dim light was hardly enough to read by, much less make out faces - but it did the trick; her fan looked on Vinyl's true face, and smiled gently. Vinyl took that as a sign - and leaned in to kiss her. It was not quite a movie perfect kiss. For one, Vinyl could still taste herself on her fan's tongue; for two, their horns banged together once when they pressed in together. But they pressed on anyways, taking their time.
Vinyl tugged the mare close into her hooves. It was a cold night, of course, and the wind cut through her thin coat; a fanfilly against her was just what Vinyl needed to warm up. Letting her weight rest against the smaller unicorn, Vinyl ran her hooves over her sides, gently kneading at her flanks through the hoodie until the little mare shuddered in reply. A careful breath over the fan's ears - warm and wet, and similarly soft - made her fan whine again, and Vinyl grinned.
"Now, why don't you get yourself back under my table," Vinyl cooed, nuzzling over her fan's muzzle, "Head down, tail up..." With that, Vinyl Scratch released her fan, and shooed her with a hoof. The fan looked up under her hoodie, and bit her lip, looking to the table and back to Vinyl a few times. For a moment, Vinyl thought she had overstepped... but, hestitantly, her fan slipped back under the table, her tail just barely perked underneath that long black skirt.
Slipping up under the table, Vinyl splayed out next to her fan, giving a gentle nuzzle back over the ears; her fan responded with a little shudder and a breathy sigh. With that, Vinyl Scratch tugged gently on her fan's hoodie, pulling it back to reveal her fan's muzzle and mane in the darkness under the table. She squeaked in reply, and Vinyl grinned. "Now, babe," Vinyl cooed, as she slid back up, rising to straddle the smaller pony's body, "It's time to show you whose gig this is..."
The bass pounded in the darkness, disorienting the poor mare caught between the speakers of anything but the music. The anonymous mare whipped her head around, trying to face Vinyl and regain her barings; but Vinyl firmly nuzzled the mare's horn, laughing as she stopped her. "Ah-ah, no wigglin' 'round. But open your mouth," she teased, laying another gentle nip on her ear. "I got something for you..."
Again, the mare tried to turn to face Vinyl - but she remained standing astraddle the fanfilly, keeping her from turning. For a moment, she did nothing, with Vinyl Scratch feeling more worried every passing moment; only vaguely aware of the impending end of the song. Finally, the unicorn nodded, and closed her eyes, opening her mouth.
"Now, bite down on your bit," Vinyl cooed, doing her best to hide her relief as she slid the microphone into the mare's muzzle, pushing it towards the back of her mouth. "Gonna make a display out of you...."
When the filly bit, the taste of plastic on the back of her tongue, Vinyl slid the microphone's cord around her fan's head, then coiled it around the microphone itself until it grew taut, locking the makeshift 'bit' in her muzzle. A gentle stroke on the fan's hips didn't make her plaything jump, so she smirked, leaning in close to whisper while giving a little tug on the microphone-turned-bit. "Now, are you ready for my 'set'?""
The fan nodded. Vinyl was dimly aware that the fan had, instinctively, hiked her tail up and over to the side; but with the long skirt she was wearing, the filly was going to have to do more than expose herself on instinct. "Then get your tail up high - and keep your head down low," Vinyl smirked, sliding back and off the smaller unicorn. A little tease of a hoof just along the spine was enough to get her fan moving, and she soon had her rear hiked up into the air, almost to the level of the mixing table.
Vinyl smirked, and flicked her eyes over the mixing table, quickly gauging levels. Things were still well under control, so she turned her attention back to the anonymous mare. "Hmm. Still have a few more lengths of cord here..." Vinyl uncoiled the cable over her fan's back, with the silver plug giving a little tease just below the skirtline; lifting up, the skirt rose and exposed the mare to the night air. Vinyl tugged the electric plug up, draping the skirt over her tail; the plug that had tugged around the skirt now coiled around the mare's tail, the skirt wrapping around the tail and the lazy knot in the cord tying around her tail, still fully clothed, yet now permanantly exposed. Impetuously, Vinyl lifted what slack remained in the cord and plugged it in to the mixing table - the makeshift 'bit' kept taught by the tail-binding rump-exposing knot around her skirt, which was kept up in the air by the connection to the table.
The DJ smirked. "Don't worry," she called over the music. "Got something special just for you, babe..." With that, a pair of headphones came on - but even though no sound came through them, the music could still be felt, the high notes through her hooves as they made the platform shake, the deep bass in her flanks.
The headphones whispered when they came on, until Vinyl's voice came over the headset. "Keep that tail high, babe," Vinyl cooed over the headset. "Got a little something I'm working on for my new album. You're the first pony to hear this, so listen good. Call this one 'Prey'."
For a moment, the fan was distracted. But then, the horns kicked in, and the bass dragged her down into its grasp. The song lived up to its name; rhythmic progressions gave the impression of running, changing "gait" to a gallop as the bass dropped, the predator hunting her. She wanted to move, she wanted to dance - she wanted to run. But instead, she was bound and gagged under her favorite DJ's mixing table, completely exposed - and her breath, unconsciously, was following the measures, each breath just a little shorter than the last. Somehow, she felt both trapped and run ragged, like she had to flee and like she had nowhere to run, panic and something else rising in her heart-
Suddenly, the music in her headset reached a pause, and the music outside had stopped; going from such an intensely personal demonstration of her music to relative silence, she could hear nothing at all but the roaring in her own ears - and her heart, still keeping time at two hundred beats per minute. A brief bit of static shot through her headphones, and DJ PON-3 shouted over the silence, in time with the same announcement coming to her from the hidden speakers in the crowd:
"What's up, everypony? Got some energy in ya - ready to go again?"
The crowd cheered, and her most dedicated fan tugged against her bit in agreement.
"I hope you're ready," Vinyl announced to the crowd, rearing up on the mixing table. "Because if anypony's afraid and wants to back out-"
The unicorn squirmed, as she felt something rising up against her thighs - a gentle nudge of Vinyl's hips against hers left no doubts as to what was happening -
"Now's your one chance. 'Cause from here on out... 'romantic ballads' ain't on the playlist, if you know what I mean."
Laughs came out from the crowd - and the cord that ran to the 'bit' in her fan's muzzle alternated between taut and slack. Vinyl began a slow fade-in, in both her fan's headset and for the crowd.
"Good for you," Vinyl called, as her hoof reached around under the table - a teasing little stroke under her fan's tail, just inside her legs, and teasing down lower. She had given her fan every chance to back out - and here she was, not only proudly keeping her tail hiked up, but she smelled ready, making the stallion in Vinyl Scratch bounce with expectation.
"Now- if you're ready-" The crescendo built in the music Vinyl was playing for the crowd, as the music came back on in her headset. She felt Vinyl's hoof tugging her up, and the sensation of bare flesh rising up against her - the DJ's magic lifting her into place.
"Take this."
The bass dropped, filling both the party and her headphones with simultaneous beats, carefully synched together. The bass bouncing in her flanks and under her hooves, matched with the "predator" of her song having caught up with her- at which, Vinyl's flare finally dragged across her. The sensation of bare flesh sliding up against her was too much, but her yelp was muffled
by the 'bit' on her tongue.
"You know they're watching, right?"
The DJ had cut herself out of the general speaker loop - she was only connected to her fan and new plaything, now, leaving one hoof on the mixer table, one hoof gently stroking across her hip. Vinyl hadn't even begun to move - still being too sensitive from the release she had been given
"We're surrounded, dozens of ponies around us. As long as I move my hips to the beat-"
As the song faded into another slower section, Vinyl started to move her hips; shallow but measured, marking the time with her flare -
"They might guess. But as long as you stay quiet like a good little filly-"
Vinyl pushed her hips in, joining the beat as the "predator" advanced in the song once more-
"Then nopony will know."
Her fan groaned into her bit - and, as Vinyl pushed, her fan pushed back against her, to the limit of her binding cord's slack. Vinyl smirked, her hips rocking in time; although she herself was fully in control of herself, having been "unburdened" of orgasm by her fan, her fan had no such restriction, and every little push of her hips was met by another new sort of groan or shake to her knees. In the song, the predator and prey chased each other back and forth, the prey growing more frenzied, the predator ever closer-
Something in the back of her mind reminded her that, above and beyond everything else wrong about what she was doing, going bare in a stranger was probably a terrible idea. But the morning would be Shining Armor's problem. The nights belonged to DJ PON-3.
Taking her fan's hips in her hooves, Vinyl started to bounce her hips - no longer bothering to keep time with the music, but that was no longer needed; the unicorn was already wound tighter than a clock. She didn't need to use a battering ram; just a gentle push, a soft breath and she'd collapse. Sure enough, as Vinyl dragged her shaft back and forth, the gagged mare went limp against the wooden platform, letting the cord and the DJ's hooves keep her hips up.
"I figured that was what you wanted," Vinyl smirked, her hooves kneading down the unicorn's spine adoringly, her hips barely moving as she soothed her back down. "You seemed to like being in the center of attention-"
Vinyl's hooves pushed further up the hoodie, but something pushed back - something that splayed out as she pushed harder. Something that lifted and fluttered and shook under the hoodie. Vinyl's blood froze, in realization. A unicorn. Pink. With wings. That could only mean one thing: her 'secret' had been exposed, her cheating had been witnessed in the most direct fasion, and she was truly and utterly fucked. Her blood ran cold , and she backed away, stammering, trying to think of some excuse, any justification
The pink mare backed out of the spot underneath the mixing table, her pink magic unwinding the cord from her tail and letting her skirt fall back down - loosening the 'bit' in her mouth - and, finally, spitting out the microphone. Looking up, she tilted her hoodie back - letting a familiar mane in lavender, rose, and gold spill out. She smirked, and took a step up.
"Well, Miss Scratch, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit excited. But unfortunately," she smirked, pressing one hoof on the DJ's chest - "I am a married mare."
For however long you decide, Vinyl thought, swallowing and grimacing. She's not just going to leave me, she's going to ruin me...
"So, I think I need to bring this up with my husband," Cadance purred, smiling smugly - that same feline smile he had seen only a few times before in his life. "And you know what I'm going to tell him?"
Vinyl tried to swallow, but her throat had gone dry. "I- uhm-" Despite herself, her "PON-3"voice cracked, completely losing its normal cocksure quality, dropping back into the voice of the captain of the guard. "I-I don't-
"Well, Miss Scratch," Cadance purred, smiling smugly. "I'm going to tell him about this sexy, commanding, shiny mare I found - and tell him I intend to see about seeing her again."
Vinyl Scratch blinked behind her glasses. Cadance chuckled darkly, and leaned up to raise a hoof around Vinyl Scratch's neck. "But until we have talked-"
With a swift motion, Cadance pulled her disguised husband to the ground, back out of sight, and kissed him - not gently, not even affectionately, but passionately, his taste still on her tongue. Vinyl was barely recovering from the shock when her wife pulled away, smirking down. "Now, I have to get back to the castle lest someone notice we're both gone... and you are about to have dead air."
"Huh-wha?" True enough, the song itself was coming to an end - and no song had been queued to follow it. Vinyl squeaked and reacted instinctively, choosing a random song from the playlist and pausing only to compare beats, no matter how jarring the transition-
And was completely off guard when a sudden burst of warm air blew up under her tail, yelping as she jumped. She whirled - and saw her wife disappearing under her hoodie again, smirking.
"Maybe I better be the colt next time," she smirked. "You certainly act like you could use it."
"Hey, what do you mean by that?"
Cadance rolled her eyes. "I mean- Love you." She winked, and smirked. "Stud."
With that, the 'anonymous' mare tied her hoodie tight over her head, and trotted off the stage, weaving her way through the equipment. Vinyl Scratch raised back up on her hindhooves and watched her as long as she could, a mare dressed all in black bouncing and weaving her way into the crowd - and soon, she too was gone, just another anonymous reveller by firelight.
The bass pounded, and Vinyl Scratch grinned smugly. It was her job to get ponies close, after all - and no matter what name they knew her by, they knew that she would always get the job done.
Author's Note
I didn't expect this story to pass moderation so early. Oh dear.
