The Rescue Service

Today began so well.

I had slept surprisingly soundly for someone who was scheduled to own up to the blunder of his life later in the morning. According to Bellchaser, it was the calm that comes with finally deciding to do something about it. I wasn’t so sure. It was probably just the alcohol.

Anyway, she woke me up at half past eight, and then had the cheek to act like she had let me sleep in. Over breakfast I had plenty of time to start panicking and second-guess the plan, and I’d probably have called the whole thing off (once again!) if Bellchaser hadn’t been there. As it was, I didn’t have that option. She marched me uptown to Hissy Fit’s apartment while I tried my best to think of a way to tell the story that would make me sound less like a horrible pathetic loser than I am.

True to her word, Bellchaser started by admitting she had left me to rescue Tavi alone, that day. Then she turned to me expectantly, and I had no choice but to spill the beans. It went better than I expected, at first. I didn’t quite manage to save my face, but at least I didn’t cry this time, and Hissy Fit sat and listened without showing any emotion other than focused attention.

But then I reached the point where Vinyl had joined us, and ground to a halt. I didn’t even know how to say what came next. To tell the truth, I hadn’t thought much about it, after it was over. It wasn’t relevant anyway – if I could just think of a way to skip past it –

“That – is – NOT – ACCEPTABLE!”

Hissy Fit banged a hoof into the desk and rose from her chair, angrier than I have ever seen her. Beside me Bellchaser gave a start. I let my head drop, cringing. So much for imagining this might have a happy ending.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered. It wasn’t much of a defense, but what could I do?

Hissy looked surprised. She sat down again and sighed.

“Finey, you’re an idiot, and you goofed up,” she said, in a tone so calm that one could almost think she wasn’t mad at me. “But with how it ended up, you’re never going to goof up in that way again, am I right?”

“I suppose so,” I mumbled. It wasn’t as if I’d ever to get an opportunity to repeat that particular mistake.

“Good. And Bellchaser, you and I are going to have a little chat about honesty and submitting timesheets for work you didn’t actually do.”

“Yes’m,” said Bellchaser stiffly. I hadn’t thought about how she would be in hot water for herself too, rather than just just for getting me into trouble. I felt a bit selfish for only thinking of the latter.

“But that will have to wait,” Hissy continued. “Finey, basically what you’re saying is that this customer manipulated you into a situation where she could do a lot of harm to you, and then she threatened to do that unless you had sex with her, is that correct?”

“Well, not really in so many words. But it was sort of implied.”

“It doesn’t matter how many words. There’s just one word for that – I don’t know what the lawyers call it – but I call it rape.” The fire was back in her eyes now. “Nopony does that to one of my workers. I will not have it –”

She said more than that, but I didn’t fully listen. I was busy wrapping my head around the idea that Tavi had raped me. From a strict formal perspective I supposed it fit, but that wasn’t how it felt. I clearly remembered wanting to rut her – though of course I wouldn’t have done so if she hadn’t made me. Some of what Vinyl did afterwards, on the other hoof – but it was no good thinking about that –

“– long as you work for me that’s not gonna happen.”

Huh? “Um, aren’t I fired?”

That stopped her dead. “What? Oh no, one misstep won’t do that, not when I’ve dozens of clients praising you. What do you take me for? But look at you, you’re shaking. Please, you need to sit down before you faint.”

She was right; I did shake. I staggered over to the couch, at the end of the room that’s a living room rather than an office, heart pounding. She didn’t fire me! She actually believed me! I hadn’t really allowed myself to think that could happen.

Hissy Fit was searching through her files for something, conferring with Bellchaser in low voices. A few times she tried to phone somepony but didn’t seem to get a response. Finally she came over to me.

“Finey, I’m sorry, but can you handle the phone while I go out and take care of this? I know you’re upset, but I can’t get anypony else right now. You have the training, don’t you?”

I nodded. “Sure.” Answering the phones is pretty easy once you get to know Fizzy’s filing system, just a matter of taking down rescue appointments and cancellations.

“Thanks. Don’t take any rescues that trigger before five, and if there’s any new customers, have them call back later.”

I nodded again, only beginning to comprehend it all. Only minutes ago was certain I’d be kicked out; now she was basically letting me run the shop while she went out doing whatever.

“Also, Finey,” she continued with a concerned look on her face, “do you have anypony you trust you can talk to about all this? Don’t keep it bottled up. Family, close friends – perhaps a mare?”

I searched my mind unsuccessfully. Even if I had a special somepony, I don’t think I’d be telling her about how I let two other mares use me. And Mother, back in Cloudsdale? I love her dearly, but she’s about the last pony I’d share stories of my sex life with. I shook my head slowly, feeling pathetic.

“I understand,” she said. “Just sit tight here; it’ll be all right.” She turned around and went off towards the door. “Bellchaser, you’re with me! I’ll need a witness.”

I was too tired to be really elated over how well Hissy Fit had taken my confession, so I dozed off on the couch. Late morning is a slow time; the phone hardly ever rings. If it did, I was pretty sure it could wake me up.

What did make me up was the sound of the front door being opened. At first I thought it was Fizzy coming back and scrambled to my feet, but instead there was an earth mare I’d never seen before standing in the hallway. Kind of cute too, light brown with a golden-yellow mane. She wiggled out of a pair of saddlebags and came into the living room.

“Hi. Are you Affine Scheme?”

“Um, yes.” I wondered if I should do something to verify she was supposed to be there. I didn’t know how, though.

The mare smiled as if she’d just been reunited with a dear friend. I wish mares would smile to me like that. Except this one did. Huh.

“I’m Cinna,” she said. “I’m here to hug you and listen to you and make you feel good about yourself.”

“. . . I’m sorry?” I looked around, imagining there could be someone else around she might be talking to. There wasn’t, of course.

She chuckled. “Yes, you. Hissy Fit sent me. Said you might need a hug or two. Is that right?”

Before I could react, she came at me and threw her hooves around me. Automatically I hugged back. She was warm and strong, and her mane smelled like Hearth’s Warming and hot chocolate. It was a scent to get lost in. It struck me that this was the first time I’d even touched a mare since Tavi.

She didn’t seem to be letting go of me, until I noticed I was squeezing her pretty tightly myself. I eased up a bit, ashamed to be treating a perfect stranger that way. Then she did put her legs down, and I backed a few steps away from her.

She was still smiling. “I think you did.”

I sat back down on the couch. “Sorry. I don’t usually – I mean . . . So, are you a friend of Ms. Fit?”

“Oh yes, we go way back.” Cinna sat down in the couch beside me, turned to face me. “But the reason I’m here now is that she hired me to.”

Hissy Fit hired her . . . to come here and hug me? “You mean, you’re an, um, bought mare?”

As soon as I said it, I knew it was a horrible mistake. Probably she was only here to take over the phone so I could be sent home. And now I’d gone and called her a –

“I am a licensed mood therapist,” she said, wrinkling her muzzle. “I’m part of your Workplace Incident Response Plan.”

Oops. Stupid fucking idiot Finey, you waste of good air. I kicked myself mentally, wishing (not for the first time) I could just expire.

Cinna’s miffed expression shattered into a friendly grin. “I’m also a whore, don’t worry. You won’t find me walking the streets, though. Or even in the classifieds. But if sex will make you feel better, then that’s covered too.”

I had no idea what to say. Was this some kind of secret test?

When I didn’t answer, she went on: “You know, your boss must really value you as an employee. She got you the ‘anything you want’ package.”

“And what’s that?”

“Just what it says on the tin, really. You get me for eight hours, and I do whatever will make you happy. Until you decide on something you want me to do, I make my best guess at what you need. Thus, hugs and talking, for now.”

She reached out a hoof to me, suggesting another hug, but I shrugged it off as politely as I could. I had to figure this out first.

“And you do anything I want? ‘Anything’ is a pretty open-ended term, isn’t it?”

“Within reason, of course. You don’t get to kill or cripple me, or wish for more wishes or any other loopholes like that. Apart from that, you’re the boss. Some things I charge extra for, but that’s between me and the insurance company.”

“There’s an insurance company?” I asked, more fascinated than I probably should be. That wasn’t something I’d thought buying a whore would involve.

“Well, yes, otherwise anything-you-want would basically be impossible.” She sat up a bit straighter, apparently resigned to be talking about business. “The thing is, for most ponies anything they want isn’t actually terribly expensive, so I charge just a rough average of that, with a bit of markup for the uncertainty – as least when it’s not themself who decided to hire me, like with you.

“But there are still outliers, of course. Suppose you’re the one in ten thousand who wants to shave me bald all over and poop in my mouth while singing the Maresillaise. That’s when the insurance pays out, so there’s a few account managers in Manehattan who’re not getting any Hearth’s Warming bonuses, and I won’t need to work for the next year or two.”

She looked about the room for a moment and added almost as an afterthought: “Still, if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer you didn’t do that.”

“Got it. No singing the Maresillaise.” Wait, was that too flippant? I found myself cringing again.

She grinned easily. “Hey, if you like the song, you’re still the boss.” She reached out her hoof again, and this time I let it rest on my shoulder. “I think I like you, Affine. Just don’t worry about the price, okay? It’s taken care of.”

I nodded. “Sorry for being so . . . technical about this.”

“It’s alright. You’re not the first client to be curious, and I can’t really expect you to open up your soul to me until you get to know me a bit. And we have lots of time. Hissy Fit said she won’t be back until one.”

I looked over at the big clock above Hissy’s desk. Two hours. I still wasn’t sure what I wanted, but I had to take some initiative.

“Can we do another hug?”

The couch wasn’t really a comfortable place for hugging, but Cinna said Hissy Fit had promised we could use her bed. I felt a bit self-conscious about lying down in my boss’s bed, even if my boss wasn’t in it at the time – but on the other hoof not messing up the bed would tell her I hadn’t even tried on the nice rent-a-cunt she’d gotten me. And I didn’t want that either. Yes, I know it sounds silly. To hay with it, I thought, and we settled down on the bed and hugged for a bit, nothing good friends couldn’t do. It was nice.

My mind kept coming back to that ‘anything you want’ thing, though, like your tongue seeks out a bit of straw stuck in your teeth. She couldn’t possibly mean anything anything?

“So for example, I could tie you up?”

Her friendly smile didn’t waver. “You certainly could.”

“And I could shove things into your ass until you scream and cry and beg me to stop, and then keep going anyway?”

“Hmmm.” She bit her lip. It felt like I had scored a point – why, she did have boundaries after all. “If you want loud screams, your boss’s neighbors might take offense, but we can always go and rent a sound-proofed . . .” She trailed off, suddenly lost in thought.

Then she looked at me kind of sadly. “Did somepony do that to you?”

I turned away from her, looking into the wall.

Vinyl towers above me, giggling with fascination. “Oh, look!” she exclaims, “he squirms when I twist it around!” I try to blink the sweat away from my eyes and squirm the best I can. Perhaps that will satisfy her. There has to be something that will; I just have to find it.

Cinna reached a hoof around my withers and hugged me silently until the shaking went away.

“Do you think it would make you feel better if you did that to someone yourself?”

I kept looking away. “You make it sound so easy.”

“To give or to receive it? Neither is easy, sweetie.”

“You know what I mean.” I could hear I sounded bitter, but I didn’t care. “Like it’s all in a day’s work.”

She stroked my mane for some time before she answered. “I’m sorry if it sounded that way. You know, I’m a professional, but do you think I ever leave for one of these jobs without worrying whether this is the one that’ll win me a six-moon recovery and a Mareibbean sabbatical?”

I turned to look at her. “How do you do it?”

She shrugged. “It pays very well. And I like helping ponies. Most times I go home knowing I’ve made a difference. But I know the risk and I choose to take it.” She looked at me significantly. “You didn’t choose, I think.”

I wanted to disagree and point out that everything had been a result of my bad choices. But I also saw that she was right, in her way. I never chose the consequences, only my actions. Did that somehow make it not my fault? I wasn’t sure. But I could see her point of view.

She gave an extra squeeze with the foreleg she had around me. “Do you want to tell me what happened? It will help.”

So I told her. The part I had already told to Bellchaser and Hissy Fit went easy this time, the rest not so much. But Cinna was patient and gentle, hugging me when something hurt to remember and somehow making the silence not be awkward when I needed time before I could put it into words. She sat up behind me and preened my wings while I spoke, even the sore spot on the left –

Vinyl’s head jerks upwards. “What was that? That sound!” Tavi, sitting off to the side, rolls her eyes. “I believe he said: Ow,” she says. Vinyl looks back at me. “Why, I don’t think I allowed him to speak. Did you?” A smile creeps slowly across her muzzle. “Oooh, I think that’s gonna cost another feather . . .”

When I ran out of story to tell, she lay beside me, her side pressed against mine. I could feel her breathing.

“Wow,” she said eventually. “Those two really did a number on you, didn’t they?”

I nodded, not sure if I’d start bawling again if I tried to answer.

“In your mind you know you didn’t deserve any of that, right?”

I nodded again. It still didn’t feel that way, but I couldn’t defend that feeling. “Thanks.” I put a hoof around her, gave a small squeeze.

“So, what I think you should do now is fuck me.”

“What? Now?” I pulled my hoof back and inched a bit away from her. Anything I want, I remembered, but was that what I wanted?

“You don’t have to, of course. Usually the point in case of a rape-like work experience – that’s you – is to give you back the experience of choosing for yourself. That’s why there has to be someone like me who’s ready and willing, so it’s a real choice.

“But you were told it all happened to you because you had sex in the first place. What you need to experience now is that you can give in to a mare and it won’t end badly. So, it’s still your choice, but I really think it’ll do you some good. Please, let me help you.”

That sounded very clinical to me. “Are you sure that will work when you’ve just told me how it works?”

“It’ll have to. If I didn’t tell you why, that would be manipulating you, and that’s the last thing you need now. It doesn’t have to be your reason, though. Don’t tell me you’re not at least tempted.”

I looked her over, trying to be objective. Yes, she was nice and sweet and right here and sort of attractive in a filly-next-door kind of way. But I also knew she was only in it for the bits, even if those bits were not mine, and that was just wrong.

Back between my legs, Finey Jr. began to register a minority opinion, that little traitor –

The feather floats before me, caught in Vinyl’s magical field. She turns it around slowly, regarding it critically. “Now what can we use this little fella for? Tickling was kind of a dud, and it’s too thin to do any good in the ass by now . . .” Suddenly she brightens up with an epiphany, and I know this can’t be good. “Urethra!” she proclaims triumphantly.

– but then it retracted back to the safety of its sheath. And you may call me shallow, but I wasn’t happy about that. Not that I particularly wanted to bone a prostitute, but abstaining by default because I couldn’t get it out was something different.

Hadn’t Cinna just said something like that, too? Perhaps there really was something wrong with me that she could fix.

“Suppose you’re right. How do you like it, then?”

“That’s up to you. Anything you want, remember?”

I hadn’t forgotten. “What if what I want is to at least try to make it good for you?”

“Can’t argue with that. Hmm. . .” She smiled sheepishly. “I do like wings.” She poked with her muzzle at my good wing.

I think I’ve mentioned that my sex life isn’t usually very adventurous. Even though I have wings, I’d never given any thought to how they might be used erotically – so if Cinna wanted that, I’d need to improvise. I unfurled the wing and wrapped it around her body, scratching her far side with its tip. “Like this?”

“Mmmm.” She closed her eyes and shivered a little before snuggling closer to me. “Like that.”

I stuck my head down to the base of her neck and began nuzzling around in her fur. Before long I could feel the little jitters below her skin that show a mare is enjoying the attention. I usually like that – with all the mares who ever let me, sometimes even better than the actual sex. But now I couldn’t help feeling weirdly inappropriate, as if it was too intimate and private to do with a mere whore. It didn’t really make sense: I could picture myself perfectly well sticking my dick into her, but somehow still balked at foreplay? Get a grip on yourself, Finey.

As I moved up along her neck and cheek, it became difficult to keep my wing around her. I maneuvered myself around so I could reach her muzzle with the other wing and run the tips of the long feathers along her jaw. That must have been right; she gave a cute little squeal and buried her entire face in the wing.

This left me nibbling at her ear, which was pleasant enough – but it was becoming clear that I wouldn’t be sticking my dick anywhere at this speed. I rose halfway up on my hind legs to try and shake it out. That never works, of course. Not this time either.

“Here, let me help you with that,” said Cinna, and pushed me gently onto my side. She put her muzzle down to my sheath, and – oh, my! – stuck her tongue in to tickle the penis inside it.

That certainly helped! I popped out so fast that Cinna’s head was pushed aside, and she giggled softly and planted a little kiss on the shaft before she lay down again.

I crawled off the bed and stood on the floor, not to spoil the erection by lying flat on it. One of Cinna’s hind legs dangled lazily off the side of the bed, and I took to nibbling at its folds and joints while fondling her bum with a wing. Each time I swiped a feather across her mare parts a sudden tremor went through her body, and she made an adorably half-controlled little yelp.

Then she sort of slid down from the bed, in a flowing motion that left her standing with her hind end towards me, legs spread, rump lowered. She lifted her tail up and to the side and shoved her marehood towards me, pulsing and ready. Some fluid was trickling out from it and down towards her inside thighs. On impulse I stuck out my head and licked it up. She tasted a bit like Tavi had, but also stronger. Spicier.

I got an idea. “Um, actually, could you be upside down instead? On the bed?” Just saying it out loud got me twice as hard as I’d been. She had said anything, after all.

“Sure,” she replied immediately, as if that wasn’t weird at all. And just like that, she lay back up on the bed, legs toward the sky. “C’mere, stallion!”

I reared up between her legs and pushed into her, slowing down to savor the feeling of my cock being enveloped by warm, smooth flesh. Oh, that was good! As soon as I could reach I spread out my wings and wrapped them around her hind legs. She looked up at me with a hundred summer afternoons’ worth of lazy happiness, and grasped my forehooves with hers.

When I started thrusting it was her as much as me who set the rhythm, pulling me back and forth by the wings. Not that I minded; it was a new thing, thrusting together. She lay her head back on the bed and tossed it jerkily from side to side in step with our thrusts, while she whimpered happily: “oh . . . oh . . . yah . . . oh . . .”

And then, “oohOOWAAY!” and she pulled me towards her at the end of the thrust, and her body contracted around my cock, clenching it tightly, and then I came too, pumping out more than a week’s pent-up worry and fear that became something magical and good within her instead.

I let go of her legs and lay down on top of her, belly to belly like I had with Tavi. And just like Tavi did, she wrapped her legs around me and hugged tight, humming softly while I caught my breath. I wasn’t sure it was healthy for me to basically recreate the way I’d fucked Tavi, back when I still thought she was my friend. I wasn’t sure I cared either. If I really was broken forever, at least I’d choose to be a broken pony who could feel like this.

Cinna’s body had released its grip on my cock, and I could feel it begin to retract inside her. I remembered something Bellchaser said once, about how that’s the worst thing a stallion can do (don’t ask me how that came up; she seems to think that just because we’re part of the sex industry, anything she can think of is fair game for small talk), so I quickly climbed back off and lay down beside her instead, staring at the ceiling.

“So how do you feel now?” she asked.

I searched my mind, not looking at her. “I dunno,” I said to the room in general. “A bit sad.”

“Sad? Why?”

“Because you’re not for real.”

“I’m not? I don’t feel like a figment of anypony’s imagination.”

“You know what I mean. Even if I could afford to hire you myself –”

“You can’t. Trust me.”

“– it would just be an act. What would be the point?”

She strangled a sigh and sat halfway up. “Well, did you enjoy this?”

I had to smile. “I did. A lot.”

“That’s for real. Hold on to that. And what’s also for real is that your boss wanted you to have me so you could feel better.”

“I guess.” It did make it feel a bit less empty, thinking about it that way. “So what happens now?”

“Well –” she put her business face back on “– it can’t be long until your boss is back. Afterwards you still have a good five hours of anything you want left. Do you have a place we can go for that?”

“Oh? Sure.” I had allowed Bellchaser in to see the mess in my room last night; surely I could do the same for this mare who was being paid not to judge me.

“Good. There’s a lot of other things I can show you,” she said teasingly, “if you can get over not being for real.”

“Are you for real, though? I mean, did you enjoy this?”

She sighed sadly. “That’s the one thing you can never really know. Think about it: Even if I told you now that I did, how would you know I’m not lying?”

“True.” I remember how she had looked when we climaxed, how she had felt. “You’d have to be a pretty good actress, though.”

“Oh, but I am; that’s part of the job. Half actress, half psychologist, half slit-for-hire.”

“That makes more than one!”

She reached over a hoof to boop me on the muzzle. “Why do you think I’m so expensive, sweetie?”

And then we heard the front door open, and Hissy Fit was back.