The backstage door burst open and Vinyl Scratch exploded into the relative privacy of the green room in the back of The Pulse, followed in by the sounds of patrons gradually filtering out of the club. “Hey-hey! DJ Pon-3 in da house!” she bellowed.
“Yes,” Octavia’s cultured voice replied from the shabby couch behind the door, stopping her dead in her tracks. “I got that impression from all the oon-tss oon-tss oon-tss.”
“Octy! You're back early!” The unicorn bounced over the arm of the couch for a hug. Octavia squeezed her and laughed.
“I am. There was a technical problem with the airship, so the dinner took place dockside rather than in-flight. We were able to leave as soon as the guests finished socializing, and pocketed the cost of the train ride home as well.”
Vinyl kissed her on the cheek. “Awesome! And you came all the way out here just to walk me home? How sweet!”
The cellist kept her tone carefully neutral, though a smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Oh, no. I arrived hours ago.”
Vinyl bridled, her eyes widening behind her glasses as her voice took on the tension of false cheer. “Y-you did? Uhh… when? I didn’t see you come in… if you’d a’ waved at me or something…”
“An interesting selection of pieces tonight,” Octavia noted, brushing aside the question. “One might almost suspect you had something on your mind.”
The DJ shook out her wild electric-blue mane and barked a tense laugh. “Shyeah, but I'd have to start using my mind first, right?”
The earth pony plowed on, ignoring the obvious bait as a teasing smirk finally forced its way across her lips. “I particularly enjoyed your rendition of I Kissed a Mare,” she said, rising from the couch and brushing past Vinyl, glancing into the DJ’s trademark tinted glasses as she passed. “And I refuse to accept it as coincidental that you mixed it with a certain performance of Packmule's Canon in D.”
The unicorn looked away quickly and gave an excessively nonchalant grunt, throwing herself down on the couch. “Oh, well, you know. As much classical as you've had me listening to lately, it's gonna creep in.”
“Mm-hmm…” Octavia sauntered over to the refrigerator, her impeccably brushed tail swishing playfully behind her. In spite of Vinyl’s shades, she could feel the unicorn's eyes on her rump. She tossed one bottle carelessly over her shoulder to be caught an instant later by the telltale hum of levitation magic, and pulled out another for herself – a good brown ale from a local brewery, of course; there would be no Buckweiser for her or her lover – and trotted back to join the other mare on the couch. Vinyl popped the cap off her beer and swigged it quickly. The DJ's pale fur couldn't hide her blush, no matter how hard she tried to play it cool.
“Flattered as I may be,” the cellist added after a swallow from her own bottle, “I could have pointed you toward some less common pieces. Do you know how many pop songs use the Canon's basso continuo?” She grimaced and set her beer aside. “Which, by the way, is absolutely tedious to perform.”
“Yeah… guess I shoulda asked you,” the unicorn muttered, rolling the bottle back and forth between her hooves.
Octavia reached up with both hooves and gently pulled the glasses off of Vinyl's face. The DJ twitched, but didn’t resist. Behind the colored lenses hid an uncertain, embarrassed young mare. “It was a sweet gesture anyway,” the gray mare finished as she pressed her lips to the unicorn’s cheek. “I enjoyed the show.”
Vinyl Scratch smiled back, then, her eyes softening. “Thanks, Octy.”
They stole playful kisses from one another as they drank, the noise from the dance floor gradually fading. Octavia leaned against the other mare as Vinyl levitated the empty bottles to the garbage, then cupped the unicorn’s chin between gentle hooves and paused to gaze lingeringly into her wide, garnet eyes. The white mare returned a hungry grin, and Octavia pushed their lips together. Vinyl let out a soft groan, muffled by eager gray lips, and wrapped her arms around the earth pony.
“I’m totally getting laid tonight, huh?” she asked with a wry giggle when they came up for breath.
In lieu of an answer, the other mare kissed her again. The moment I can get you home and lock the door, Octavia thought as her own throaty moan filled Vinyl’s mouth – along with her tongue.
“Hey, Scratch!” came a shout from the dance floor, which had fallen silent and empty without either mare quite noticing. “I’m ‘bout ready to lock up. You still in here?”
Vinyl squeaked and wriggled out from under the more aggressive pony, blushing fiercely as she trotted to the door to reply. Octavia flopped over the arm of the couch to watch her go, grinning as she admired how the bright pink flush had also taken hold beneath her lover’s tail.
“Actually, I need to mess around with my equipment a little. Mind if I do that before I leave tonight?” the pretty unicorn called back. Octavia shot to her hooves, surprised enough to forget to be annoyed at the way Vinyl yelled across the building.
“No problem!” the stallion called back. “I’ll lock up, just make sure the side door latches when ya leave.” There was the bang of a door, then the distant sound of a key in a lock.
“Vinyyyl!” Octavia groaned, frustration and disappointment conspiring to bring her voice unusually close to whining. “Can’t you fix your whatever-it-is in the morning? I was all set to… go home with you.”
The unicorn flashed a mischievous grin as she trotted back toward the stage. “No need! C’mon…”
Diffidently, Octavia trailed after her. “No… need?” she repeated as she stepped out onto the stage.
Vinyl flicked on the stage lights and took her place behind the turntable as if preparing for yet another set. For a moment, Octavia imagined a sea of eager ponies just beyond the spotlights, all holding their breath and waiting for her to begin a performance. She shook away the image with a faint shiver. Dark and silent, the club felt eerily hollow without an audience, as if the two lovers were trespassing somewhere they weren't supposed to be.
“I used to be kind of a freak,” the unicorn began, oblivious to her lover’s trepidation. “Before I met you, I mean. Since I was… you know… not really serious with anypony, I found all kinds of ways to, um, entertain myself.”
Octavia nodded without surprise. For all that the DJ liked to tease her and flaunt their relationship in public, when it had come time for Vinyl to put her mouth where the money was (so to speak), she'd folded like a cheap music stand. Behind all the bravado hid a remarkably shy and vulnerable young mare.
A haze of blue magic floated a flat, square box over to the earth pony, perhaps as wide as her hoof and half as tall. It trailed an audio cable secured by a messy wad of black electrical tape.
“What's this?” Octavia asked as she turned the box over in her hooves. It was sealed all around, featureless but for the cord and a few shiny screws.
“It's an old subwoofer driver without the diaphragm,” Vinyl said. “It goes with these.” Something soft and black smacked Octavia in the face. She jerked back, but caught the object and unraveled it.
A pair of thong panties.
Octavia stared up at the other mare. The pale unicorn was blushing almost as fiercely as the cellist was, and though she just shrugged, her hopeful smile and worried eyes begged the earth pony to accept her kinks.
“I think I get the picture,” Octavia replied, flashing an uncertain grin of her own as she stepped into the panties and awkwardly pulled them up to the base of her tail.
Vinyl Scratch immediately relaxed, her usual devil-may-care attitude reasserting itself as she started plugging a rat’s nest of wires into the equipment. Octavia’s eyes drifted to the other mare’s rump as she worked the mixing board. Her incredibly cute rump. She felt herself gradually relax as she watched Vinyl's backside bob and sway and a pleasant heat uncoiled in her belly, the full bloom of the excitement that had started to sprout as they made out on the couch. Anticipation made her heart beat faster, even though she didn't quite know what the DJ had in store for her.
Maybe… because she didn't know what to expect. “I’ve never, ah, used one of these before,” the earth pony added after a minute.
“Well, I’d hope not!” Vinyl laughed as she floated a record out of her collection. “If you had, it'd mean you went through my stuff. That thing’s one of a kind, baby!”
“Er, no,” Octavia said, her cheeks blazing as she slid the box down the front of her panties so it snuggled below her belly, resting just against the top of her flushed, swollen marehood. Vinyl's magic helped her feed the wire down one leg. “I mean, any kind of… ah, powered… personal… aid?”
“Rrreally,” Vinyl purred, grinning as the end of the cord floated over to her console and plugged itself in. “Then you might wanna brace yourself.” Her horn flashed once more and the record began to spin, the needle dropping smoothly onto it with a quiet pop. The speakers crackled quietly for a few moments.
Then Octavia yelped and shuddered, clamping her eyes closed as a deep bass beat began to pulse through her. The music thumped and roared out of the speakers in the empty club, but the little black box focused all her attention as it throbbed against her crotch. Then she felt hooves around her and the taste of Vinyl's tongue filled her mouth. The cellist wrapped her arms around the other body, squirming as she moaned in time with the heavy drums. Her tongue danced with the other mare's the way she'd seen ponies dance in the club sometimes, pressed together and grinding eagerly against one another. She stretched out on the stage, slowly losing herself somewhere between the booming bass and Vinyl's sweet, willing lips.
Suddenly, the music was gone. The beat fell silent – the song had ended. Octavia lay quivering against her lover, abruptly aware of her own hot fluids smearing the black box. “Haah… Vinyl, that… was—” she started, when a sudden blast of noise from the speakers interrupted her.
“When Celestia wanted to hear music… she created the club,” a deep voice announced. Octavia shuddered as the voice reverberated through her nethers, a buzzy, ticklish sensation. “And it was gooooood.” The music settled into a faster, syncopated rhythm that drew a surprised cry from the earth pony.
“It's an LP,” Vinyl giggled.
The gray mare clutched her lover, gasping as she waited for her body to grow accustomed to the new rhythm. Then she felt Vinyl shift – twist – and settle on top of her, pressing her own sex against the upper edge of the beat box. The weight pressed it more firmly against Octavia's folds in turn. Both mares moaned out, then, as Vinyl started to thrust her hips against the box, against her, riding Octavia to the pounding of the drums.
Vinyl's lips met hers again and they kissed frantically. Their tongues abandoned any pretense at dancing, entwined and writhing as passionately as their bodies. Octavia felt a trickle of hot fluid soak into her coat where the unicorn ground against her and slid her arms down to Vinyl's rear, pulling at her roughly with each thrust. The blue-haired mare squealed into her mouth with every tug.
The song ended abruptly, leaving both mares gasping until the next began. Vinyl kept grinding against the speaker, but it wasn't nearly as satisfying without the powerful, driving bass beats. “Hold on tight,” the DJ panted, and a second later the third song hammered into Octavia. Rapid, room-shakingly deep thumps boomed through her, the subwoofer practically jumping between the mares with each hit. Octavia gripped Vinyl in a bear hug, her mouth hanging open in a steady stream of urgent cries, gasping for breath when she ran out so that she could scream once again. The pace was brutal, but she soaked it up hungrily, each beat driving her closer and closer to her peak.
“Drop the bass,” Vinyl hissed in her ear, and on cue the heavy beat vanished. Octavia lay gasping for an eight-beat eternity, her body begging, screaming for more. Then the pounding bass returned, louder and stronger than ever. The earth mare quivered for half a second, clutching her lover against herself, then heard herself add a wild, falsetto shriek to the mix, her hind hooves pounding on the stage as waves of pleasure wracked her body in time with the music.
The rest of the song passed in a blur of howling, orgasmic bliss. At some point she was aware of Vinyl's voice joining her own, but that, too faded away beneath the pulsing roar of ecstasy.
Octavia finally opened her eyes to the soft hiss of the record's lead-out and found her vision filled with brilliant garnet eyes and an euphoric grin. “I think,” she panted, then swallowed hard, finding her throat dry and perhaps a bit raw. “I think I like your toys.”
An electric-blue aura brought her a warm bottle of water, pressing it to her lips and tipping it up as the speaker driver floated away – along with a pair of utterly soaked panties. One of the advantages of being a unicorn, or having one for a lover, was the number of things they could do without getting up. “That was my favorite album when I really wanted to get off,” Vinyl confided as the earth pony greedily guzzled the water. “Great timing, right?”
Octavia let out a satisfied 'ahh' and nodded, squeezing the unicorn in a hug less crushing than the one she had applied as she came. “Mmm. Superb.” She kissed the blue-maned DJ on the nose and relaxed again, resting a hoof on the other mare’s cutie mark and laying her head back as comfortable lethargy washed through her body. “You may yet force me to reexamine my position regarding your particular brand of music.”
The other mare playfully pumped a hoof in the air. “Yesss! I'll make a raver out of you yet, Octy!”
They shared a chuckle, then fell silent, catching their breath while the cellist gently nuzzled the other mare's neck.
“In my case, it was my bow,” Octavia murmured suddenly.
Vinyl roused and pressed herself against the gray mare's body, propping her head up on one hoof. “Say what now?”
The cellist giggled softly, an uncommon noise from the normally reserved earth pony. “It's really quite impossible for a young mare to handle a long, narrow object for several hours a day and not at least think about… misusing it.”
Vinyl jerked back, eyes wide, gaping at her. “You didn't!”
“I did! And I learned very quickly to use to stick side, not the hair.” They shared another easy laugh, drunk on post-coital bliss.
“That can't have been good for it,” the DJ snickered.
“That's how I eventually broke it!” Octavia laughed. “The next day, I had to pretend I'd stepped on it. Mother was furious, of course, but she had no choice but to buy me a new one. But I kept the old bow… glued it back together…” Her voice dropped to a murmur and she leaned close, her muzzle brushing the other mare's ear as she spoke. “And that weekend, I lost my virginity.”
Vinyl just stared at her. “Woah. That's pretty hardcore.”
The gray mare kissed her on the nose and smirked back. “You're not the only 'freak' here, my love. Of course, it wasn't an ideal tool for those purposes, but I had few options at the time. Naturally, once I was out from beneath parents' roof, I found more… efficient means of pleasing myself…”
“…but you still have it,” Vinyl finished without a hint of teasing.
“I'm… sure it's still laying around somewhere,” the cellist admitted, a sensation of heat spreading across her face.
Vinyl looked down, her own cheeks almost as pink as Octavia's favored bowtie. The unicorn murmured, “I'd really like you to play me sometime.”
Octavia pressed her lips to the other mare's face, then her eyes popped wide open, struck by an inspiration as sudden and powerful as a tune flowing straight from her soul to her bow. She scrambled to her hooves, a wild, reckless grin on her face.
“Woah, hey! Octy, what's the matter?” Vinyl yelped as the gray-coated musician unceremoniously dropped her to the stage.
“Stay here! I have to run home for a moment…” Octavia leered. "It’s ‘sometime’ right now!”
The earth pony cellist burst into her house at a dead run and galloped into the second bedroom, which she had converted into a practice and storage room for her musical equipment. She threw open the closet, dragging out the one instrument despised enough to be permanently banished from her sight.
The electric cello was an abomination against culture. It was a subjugation of substance to style that offended every one of Octavia’s senses. The horrible device was the same height as her acoustic cello, but rail-thin and painted neon blue, with ornamental spikes jutting out of it like some medieval weapon intended to brutalize music itself. On the rare occasion that she played it, it felt dead and soulless under her hooves; it had been designed more for appearance than for resonance. But that didn’t matter, because it had no voice of its own in the first place. It relied on electronic amplification to function. And just to cover all the bases, it tasted and stank of enamel paint instead of good, solid varnish. She had come close to throwing it away more than once.
But she didn’t. She even freed it from its dungeon once in a while to perform a scherzo or three. Because, for all the instrument’s faults, it was a well-meant gift from Vinyl. It did have three big advantages: one, it had an electronic pickup, which would certainly get a workout tonight; two, it weighed half what her acoustic cello did, making her trip that much quicker. And three, she wasn’t particularly worried about its safety as she pelted down the streets of Canterlot with its carrying strap gripped in her teeth.
…And four, she did have to admit that the photo of herself playing it in concert with her lover, surrounded by colored spotlights and showers of pyrotechnic sparks, did look pretty… “cool”.
Zipped up in the cello bag’s music pocket was Vinyl’s last-minute addition to her load: a single dildo extracted from the nondescript gray case under her bed. If anypony ever caught her with that, she would drop dead on the spot from embarrasment. Only for you, Vinyl…
Octavia wasn't an athlete, but a lifetime of hauling around half again her weight in wood had earned her endurance beyond that of the average earth pony. She galloped all the way back to the club. The cellist whipped around to the side door, ducked inside, and kicked out the brick she had left propping the door open in one smooth motion. “I'm back!” she called, but the sight of Vinyl stopped her dead without another word. Only years of experience kept her from dropping the cello along with her jaw.
Instead, Octavia gently set the instrument aside before she burst out, “What are you doing?!”
The unicorn was festooned with thin, brightly-colored wires clipped to adhesive pads, as if she were about to undergo some arcane medical test – though no test Octavia knew of required the pads to be stuck just to either side of her sex and to the tips of both teats. “I told you I was a freak,” Vinyl said defensively.
Octavia stared at the pads, barely registering the white mare’s tone. “Vinyl, why do you even have those here?”
“I… well, you know, just in case I… I mean, I always keep them with my… I just do, okay?”
The gray mare pressed a hoof to her face, eyes clenched shut. “Dare I ask what they’re for?”
“E-electrical play?” Vinyl offered, her confidence clearly waning.
“You’re going to electrocute yourself for fun.”
“Not electrocute! It’s… just a little buzz. It doesn’t even hurt.”
Octavia heaved a sigh and flashed the unicorn a wry smirk as she trotted over. “All right! I admit it,” she said, nuzzling the other mare. “You are certainly a bigger freak than I. You’re sure this won’t hurt you?”
Vinyl relaxed again and nodded. “Of course! I know what I’m doing. It’s not like I haven’t tried this before.”
“All right, and where do I figure in?”
The DJ started pointing at various pieces of equipment. “Okay, I’ve gotcha hooked up with some bandpass filters each feeding a series of frequency dividers that’ll drive—”
“Equestrian, please!” Octavia interrupted.
Vinyl gave a nervous giggle and rubbed the back of her head. “Sorry. Um… high notes zap me here.” She indicated the pads attached to her nipples. “Mid-range hits me here,” she continued, gesturing to her damp, eager marehood, “and low notes still go to the woofer. The louder you play, the higher the intensity.”
“I see,” Octavia replied, turning to fetch her cello. “Well, then get comfortable, Vinyl… and perhaps you ought to brace yourself.” She grinned toothily at the other mare, who flushed again.
Vinyl busily began affixing the dildo to the side of the “black box” with long strips of electrical tape while Octavia tuned up. Then, with a shy grin, the unicorn pushed a pedal in front of the gray mare’s hoof. It had a large “11!” painted on it.
“What’s this?”
“That’ll kick in the pre-amplifier,” Vinyl replied as she started plugging herself into the console. “Just in case you want to really jolt me at some point…” she added, her voice dropping sheepishly. She lay down, her thighs spread to show off a pretty pink slit, swollen with anticipation and gleaming damp. Then she busied herself getting the black box settled between her thighs, slowly pushing its new appendage into herself with a low groan.
Octavia realized she was staring, quickly averted her eyes, then firmly turned her gaze back on the other mare with a faint grin. This is the one mare I'm allowed to admire, she chided herself. Then her grin broadened. And show off for… She was certainly on display, herself – her dark lips as puffy and damp as the unicorn’s, slightly parted by her wide stance, and she was completely unable to cover herself since both hooves were occupied by her cello. A pang of delicious naughtiness ran through her at thought of performing like this in public. Never in a million years… but for an audience of one, this particular one… yesss.
Vinyl’s fuchsia eyes met hers and they shared a smile. “Positive you don’t want me down there with you?” the cellist asked.
“Maybe in a whiiiIIYEEE!” The pale filly’s reply broke into a high-pitched squeal as a wickedly grinning Octavia drew her bow across the strings. Without a moment’s hesitation, the cellist began her most satisfying concert ever.
She opened with a fast caprice by Virtuoso, a difficult piece originally scored for violin. Vinyl squirmed and gasped as Octavia’s hoof danced up and down the strings, the unicorn's thighs pressing together when the low parts resonated through the woofer, then relaxing as she let out plaintive moans when the notes shot up to nipple-level. By the time Octavia reached the slower, high-pitched section two-thirds of the way through, she almost felt as if her hoof were sliding up and down her lover’s body rather than the neck of the electric cello. The piece ended with a strenuous trill between the electrodes on either side of Vinyl’s sex, much to the unicorn’s apparent delight.
Octavia paused to let her paramour catch her breath, and discovered to her surprise that she was panting as well. A damp trail trickled down the inside of each thigh, evidence of her own excitement. Being able to manipulate Vinyl’s arousal with her music was unexpectedly… intoxicating. The sweaty mare on the floor waved a hoof vaguely in her direction. “Play ‘nother one!” she groaned. Octavia grinned.
She launched into a much simpler piece, one of Vivacity’s famous concertos, around which she could easily improvise. She dropped into the middle register, watching Vinyl shudder and squirm in time with the music. Her eyes slid closed, trying to harmonize her performance with the other mare’s moans.
Halfway through the first repetition, though, she nearly dropped her cello when she felt a hard length brush against her wet, aching slit. Her eyes snapped open to see Vinyl watching her, grinning, her horn aglow. Vinyl had freed the dildo from its tape, and though she gripped the amplifier desperately between her thighs, she rubbed the plastic shaft against Octavia’s slit in time with the strokes of her bow across the strings.
“S-stars above!” Octavia gasped. Then the unicorn drove the dildo all the way in. The earth pony’s concert faltered briefly, her knees shaking, having to grip the cello simply for support. Her next cry was entirely wordless, an inarticulate whinny of pleasure and need.
The gray mare resumed her performance with fresh urgency, her thoughts both scattered and intensely focused. She held Vinyl’s body in the crook of her fetlock, stroking up and down her lover’s inimate places as she drew the bow. Vinyl responded in kind, thrusting the shaft rhythmically into Octavia, the cellist accepting her prompting as if it were the world’s most erotic metronome. Appropriate, some detatched part of her thought. She deals in rhythm. Fast arpeggios grew faster. Her hoof flew over the unicorn’s body at the DJ’s prompting. But harmony and resonance are my domain. Octavia’s moans added an alto chorus as she began to draw the bow across two strings at once, activating different pairs of electrodes with each chord. The other mare’s gasps and squeals made a wonderful percussion section.
Octavia’s cries were reaching a fever pitch, her tunnel squeezing and kneading the faux cock as it pounded frantically into her. I can’t take this much longer! Trembling on the edge of orgasm, she managed to lift her hoof and stomp on “11!”.
Vinyl’s squeals broke into full-throated screams and she gave the dildo a rough final shove as her magic exploded in a shower of electric-blue sparks. The unicorn’s eyes clamped shut as she bucked and shuddered under Octavia’s bow, but the cellist barely noticed. Her own walls clenched and gripped the dildo as a waves of white-hot pleasure rolled through her body. The concerto vanished from her mind as the cello's tune settled into a long, shuddering moan. Then her hoof fell slack and the bow clattered to the floor.
Ingrained training gave Octavia the presence of mind to set her instrument down gently before staggering over to the other mare, collapsing into her arms in a flurry of deep, passionate kisses. They clutched one another for Celestia-only-knew how long, gasping and quivering as aftershocks faded into a deep, contented glow of pleasure.
“We make beautiful music together, huh?” Vinyl murmured as she nestled her face in the crook of Octavia's shoulder.
The gray mare squeezed her with a grin. “Mmm. Thank you, Vinyl. That was… a lot of fun.”
Vinyl chuckled and brushed a few stray hairs out of Octavia's face. “And that was the sexiest classical music I've ever listened to.”
“Your electronica was quite delicious, too,” Octavia replied, then paused with a thoughtful expression. “Erotic electronica… electrotica?”
Vinyl laughed. “Hey, I like that! Mind if I use that name for my next single?”
The mares began to disentangle themselves. “Go right ahead,” the black-maned mare replied. “By the way, do you have any other kinks I should know about?”
“Hah! Do I ever!”
