Dear Red Shoes,

I don’t know who you are, but I should probably start by saying ‘welcome back’. Much as I hate to admit it, seeing your latest missive announcing that your inbox was open again made me smile. Reading all these sordid, heartfelt, and at times painful letters had become a huge guilty pleasure for me over time, and I was quite disappointed when they stopped for such a long time—

Wow. Looking at what I just wrote there, it’s such a microcosm of the story I’m about to share with you, Red Shoes. You see, in a way, I hated the misfortunes that unfairly befell some of the mares who wrote to you. A small part of me hated the fairy-tale endings some of them got in the end too, since I know that’s something I’ll never have now. But at the exact same time I loved reading their stories anyway. I couldn’t get enough! The lust, the passion, the scheming and subterfuge. It was glorious and scandalous and everything in between, and I wanted nothing and everything to do with it at once.

That realization inspired me to send you my story too. You see, I’m in a love-hate relationship of my own, and it’s not just with your diary. It’s with the stallion I thought I’d one day marry…

I shoved the door to my employee locker closed and let out a long, frustrated sigh.

I hated this assignment. Hated it before it even started, really.

Not because it was especially dangerous, mind you. Danger was part of the job anyway, and compared to a lot of the adventures I’ve been on, this would be a trot in the park, with not a single trap door or sketchy looking lever anywhere in sight. I didn’t hate the assignment because of the location either. A few days in the tropics when the weather back home was smack in the middle of winter sounded perfect to me.

Even the cover I had to assume wasn’t that bad. Sure, I wasn’t technically a certified masseuse, and I generally avoided the spa altogether until my wings were way overdue for a preen and oil, but believe me when I say I’ve had to dress way, way worse than this to get the job done.

No, I hated this assignment because of its target – a criminal mastermind wanted by authorities across Equus for countless acts of theft, larceny, fraud, bribery, and more. Those with an affinity for history and archaeology, myself included, see his crimes as especially heinous. So much knowledge and priceless pieces of history had already been lost to him and his band of thugs, stolen from collectors, museums, and even tombs, and sold to the highest bidder.

His name is Renanto Caballeron.

And he’s also my ex.

A lifetime ago it seemed, we were huddled up in our shared apartment off campus in Canterlot, cranking out our PhD theses, juggling post-graduation fellowship opportunities, and dreaming of doing it all together as a couple. Looking back on it, the only thing I loved more than my archaeology trivia was Renanto. We were academic equals, often trading places at the top of our department rankings. But in many ways, we completed each other too; his charm and charisma and my bookish, shy attitude somehow meshed so well – I was attracted to his brain as much as his body. One minute he’d be teasing my brain with some obscure fact, the next he’d be teasing my flank with that silver tongue of his. And I’d do the same to him.

Sadly, that was all gone now. Burned in the fires of anger, betrayal, and charges of theft after a pair of ancient scrolls dating back to the early Somnambulan Kingdom went missing from the university archives. I had talked him down from other such stunts a few times before – attempts to swipe the answer key in advance of a math test, for example. Or skirting the plagiarism rules too closely for comfort on some research reports, or tweaking data sheets from dig sites to make his results look better than another student’s.

But when I discovered he had the scrolls at all, much less his plans to duplicate them, then sneak the fakes back into the archives while selling the originals to the Diamond Dogs, I knew then there was no way I could look away from his actions anymore.

So I didn’t.

I’ll never forget the night it all ended. Mere weeks after graduation, both of us sporting shiny new PhDs behind our names. He had insisted we stay in and cook dinner – spaghetti and wheatballs, made just the way his grandmare used to. He was midway through the windup to what I was sure was going to be the marriage proposal I had always wanted when the knock on the door came.

I’ll also never forget the pained, broken look on his face when I pointed the guards right to the small safe he kept in the back of the closet. Nor will I forget the sound of the engagement ring pinging off the floor after he threw it at me just before the guards dragged him away in irons.

The university rescinded all of his degrees, not that it ever stopped him from claiming the title anyway. They hailed me as some kind of hero instead. Maybe I was, I don’t know. But my broken heart wasn’t helped when all those fellowship committees offered to give his spot to me as if the legitimate work he had done before never existed at all.

I loathed him so much back then, and rightly so. He had brought it all on himself, after all. But I loved him so much anyway, and losing him broke my heart. And if I’m honest, it breaks all over again every time I have to chase him down and stop another one of his schemes, which is why I found myself in one of the biggest vacation spots in the tropics dressed in what had to be an intentionally snug-fitting white uniform, so I can save yet another priceless piece of history from his greedy hooves.

The small clock on the wall chimed, signaling a quarter until the top of the hour. He’d be here soon then. I stepped over to one of the full-length mirrors placed around the room and looked at myself again.

No matter how many times I did this, it was always a bit unnerving to look in the mirror and not see, well, me.

I was still a pegasus, but my normally light-gold coat was an almost icy blue, with dusty white coloring the tips of my wings. Gone too were the many shades of grey in my mane, replaced with whites and more light blue, with a single pink streak at the outer edges. My rose-colored eyes showed an ocean blue instead. Even my cutiemark, which I briefly checked after lifting the hem of my uniform skirt, was different, with a trio of peony flowers in place of the usual compass rose.

And it was all thanks to the small teardrop pendant around my neck; a gift from my, shall I say, employer, imbued with both a transformation spell and a masking spell that made the whole setup impossible to detect to any but the most skilled magic wielders. “So far so good,” I said, if for no other reason than to confirm the vocal elements of the transformation spell were still working as designed. And they were, rendering my Vanhoover accent as something more attuned to Equestria’s central plains instead.

I smiled and nodded at my reflection. Just like all the other times I’ve foiled his plans before, he’d have no idea I’m here.

“Alright,” I muttered. “Show time.”

I left the locker room and headed for the front of the spa. After double-checking the afternoon’s schedule with my colleague at the reception desk, I took a deep breath and stepped out into the waiting room.

“Renanto? Is there a Renanto Caba—”

“Yes, right here.”

I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. I’d know that silky voice anywhere.

“Ah!” I replied, waving him over with my best ‘customer service’ smile on my face. As he weaved in between the assorted chairs and couches scattered about the cozy waiting area, I noticed he was pulling a small suitcase behind him, and had a saddle bag strung across his back.

“Good afternoon,” he said, bowing with just a bit of flourish as he spoke. He was laying on his Esponian accent rather thick too – something he always did when he was meeting a mare he wanted to impress. And I would know, because it’s the exact same tone he used on me when we first met all those years ago.

I simply smiled in return. “Good afternoon to you as well. Welcome to the Four Petals Spa, Mr. Caballeron.” Our eyes met for just a moment, but thankfully I saw no spark of recognition in his eyes. Good, my disguise was working perfectly then. “Please follow me.”

I turned on my heel and led him down a narrow but warmly lit hallway. “So, what brings you here, Mr. Caballeron?” I asked over my shoulder.

“Oh, just treating myself a bit before heading home later this evening. Been here for almost two weeks on a rather grueling business trip.”

“Ah. Sounds like a lot of meetings then? Heaven knows those can drag on forever.”

“That they do,” he laughed in that warm laugh he so often used. I tried to ignore the little twinge of a memory that pinched me just then too. “Though I dare say I would have preferred endless meetings over digging through boxes and climbing ladders. My back is killing me.”

“Oh, you poor thing. I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied softly. “But don’t you worry, I’ll have you feeling as good as new by the time you leave.”

“Wonderful. I can tell already that I will be in very good hooves, señorita.”

“Hmm, we do aim to please.” I didn’t need to look back over my shoulder to know that his eyes were on me, and very likely on my rump too. Renanto was a smooth talker, but he was never the most subtle stallion in the world either.

After a few twists and turns, I stopped in front of a pair of doors. “This is the guest locker room,” I said, using my wing to point to the door on the right side of the hallway. “There’s storage for your smaller items, as well as showers for you to use after your treatment if you’d like. This…” I unfurled my other wing and pointed to the opposite door, “is set aside to store any larger items guests may have with them when they arrive, such as luggage.” I took a step forward and gestured toward his bags. I’d be happy to secure your things while you get re—.”

“Oh no no, that is quite alright, señorita.” He quickly cut me off, while at the same time shuffling in place to keep his bag just out of my reach. “I’d prefer to just keep them with me.”

“Oh!” I quickly stepped back, a slight blush in my cheeks. “My apologies, I didn't mean to intrude, sir. It’s just that, well, the lockers, they are not big enough to fit your luggage. Only your saddlebag. And while we have never had any issue here at Four Petals of course, it would be irresponsible of me to let a client leave their belongings out in the open. I can assure you, both the lockers and the room to our left are locked at all times.”

“I see. Hmm…” While I waited for him to decide, my mind was already at work planning my next steps. His immediate reaction confirmed my suspicion that he’d have the artifact with him. He was always wary of others carrying his things, even me. He’d obsess over just sending Hearth's Warming gifts because that meant the item left his sight. So, it was no surprise to me that even now, he had the most critical piece of his latest heist close at hoof.

“Alright then, I will take your recommendation,” he finally said. “I will keep my saddlebag with me if you don’t mind, but–” he took a deep breath, probably forcing himself to break his habit here. “I shall entrust you to look after my other luggage.”

I smiled broadly and nodded in assent. “Very good, Mr. Caballeron. I would be happy to secure that bag for you.” I reached out and took the bag into my grip as he gently rolled it towards me. “In fact, if you could wait a moment—” I pulled a key from one of the pockets on my uniform and held it up to his view. “I’ll secure your bag right now.” I quickly unlocked the door, stowed the bag, and re-locked the door, very obviously slipping the key back into place in my pocket.

“See? All locked away, I have the key, and—” I stepped a bit closer to him and smiled warmly. “You’ll have me in your sights the entire time you’re here, so you have nothing to worry about.”

He looked at me and I could see the beginnings of that telltale twinkle in his eyes. “I see nothing to disagree with, señorita. Everything looks… quite wonderful actually.”

Like I said, he was a smooth talker.

I directed him to the locker room while I prepared the treatment room just down the hall. While I was waiting for the water vapor diffuser to warm up, I set the small record player in the corner to a soft instrumental tune

Just then, I heard a light knock on the door. “Yes, come in!”

Renanto walked in, and I directed him toward the massage table at the center of the room. He shed the fluffy white robe and gave it to me, and as I stepped away to hang it up, I caught a glimpse of him laying himself out on the table. Seeing him like that reminded me all too much of the times I’d do my best to help him work the kinks out of his back at home. The next hour or so was going to be tougher on me than I thought.

“All comfortable, Mr. Caballeron?” I asked while I made some final preparations. “Anything you need before we get started?”

“No, I am quite comfortable, señorita,” he replied, his voice a bit muffled by the fact his head was looking at the floor at the moment. “And please, call me Renanto.”

“As you wish then, Renanto.” I stepped over to the table, turned on the steam diffuser, took a deep breath, and began. I combed him from head to hoof with a series of brushes to smoothen his coat and remove stray hairs or tangles, before repeating the same process to his mane and tail.

I remembered us pampering each other just like this countless times. We didn’t have any fancy spa tools either; just the need to be near to each other, and make the other feel loved. I wanted to be angry at myself for still holding onto moments long past like that, but a part of me loved the feelings attached to the memories anyway.

“Doing okay so far?”

“Yes, this is lovely,” he said, sniffling his nose a bit. “Is that… rosehip I smell?”

“Oh, you mean the steam? Er, yes, I did add some rosehip essentials to the water, actually. Along with a dash of vanilla oil to spice things up. If it’s not to your liking, I can always change it.”

“No no, please leave it. It smells divine,” he replied. “I always did like the scent of rosehips.”

It took a lot of focus not to drag the stiff brush I was currently holding across his tail so hard it’d make him yelp. Of course he loves the scent of rosehips; they were the main ingredient in the perfume he used to buy me all the time, the one that I grew to love because he loved the way it wore on me.

“Ah, well that is good then,” I said as I finished brushing the ends of his tail. “There we go, all nice and smooth. Now, you booked the deep tissue massage with hot stones, yes?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed in reply.

“Excellent. The stones should be ready in just a minute. While I get them, is there a specific scent you’d like for the massage oil? I do have a few options.”

“Anything is fine, my dear. Surprise me.”

“A surprise it is then,” I tittered. “Just a moment then.”

I quickly stepped well out of any possible view he may have, towards the sink. I quickly adjusted the heat setting on the gem-powered heater that was warming the stones, then began preparing the massage oil. I selected another scent I knew he’d like, one similar to the cologne I knew he liked to wear to special occasions. A heady mixture of amber and musk, with hints of what could best be described as ‘rainforest’. The moment the scent hit my nose my mind leapt back years and years, to campus dances and formal dinners, steamy lovemaking in his cramped dorm room and more. I normally turn my nose up at anything even close to that scent now, but there my heart went anyway, trying to gallop down memory lane. I shook my head and refocused. I had a job to do, and a villain to stop.

From my other pocket I quickly grabbed a small vial of clear liquid, which I added to the mixture. The oil took on a light pink hue for a split second before reverting to its normal clear state. No noise, no fuss, but that was enough to tell me the extra ingredient was properly activated.

A surprise indeed.

Just then the timer on the heater dinged, telling me the stones were ready. I carefully grabbed them and set them on a plate, and I carried them plus the oil over to the table. “Alright, everything is set now. Are you ready, Renanto?”

“Very.”

“Excellent.”

Without further word, I reared up on my hindlegs and shuffled forward until I could let my weight fall onto the table’s built-in side-supports for non-unicorn users. I grabbed the oil container and, after pouring some over the stones themselves, I slowly poured some oil down the middle of his back. Then, taking up the hot stones into the specially made holders, I put one in each forehoof and went to work, starting with the withers and shoulders.

A few minutes passed in relative silence, save for the whisper of the steam diffuser, and the occasional pleased hum of my client. “Everything good so far?” I asked. “How is the pressure?”

“Mhmm, great so far, señorita,” he replied. “This oil you are using… you must be able to read minds, because it is one of my favorite scents.”

“Oh?” I said as I moved the stones down onto his upper back, adding a bit more oil as I went. “I thought amber might suit you well. Strong but layered at the same time.” I worked the stones in small circles as I went back and forth across his back. “I’m glad you like it.”

After a few more minutes, I switched to a second set of freshly warmed stones, then began working his middle and lower back. All the while I was keeping my breathing in check, trying not to let my mind wander too much into sordid thoughts about the criminal but still incredibly handsome stallion in front of me who was all but covered in warm oil now.

As I closed in on the smallest part of his back, I quietly worked my way towards a spot that I knew would get a reaction out of him, and I pressed down with a bit more force than was technically required.

“Ah!” he noticeably flinched the moment I hit it, just like he always did.

I quickly removed my hoof, feigning surprise. “Oh! Are you okay, Renento? I am sorry.”

“N-No, it is alright, señorita. That spot has bothered me for quite some years now. But it always catches me off guard anyway.”

I gingerly felt it with the pad of my hoof and yep, that knot was right where it always was when it got riled up. It was especially tight to the touch too. “Ah, I see, I see. With your permission, I’ll work on it as best I can, though that would mean I’d have to apply more pressure.”

“That is fine,” he grumbled. “It often prevents me from sleeping well, so even temporary relief would be nice. By the way,” he asked, “I do not believe I caught your name.”

“Peony,” I replied.

“Peony,” he repeated. “A lovely name to be sure. And fitting for your coloration too, if I might add.”

I blushed even though I knew he couldn’t see me with his face still planted into the headrest. Those words… again they were so similar to the compliments he gave me back then. Part of me wanted to be angry at that, because if he’s saying it here right now, how many other mares did he say that to? Was I just the one foolish mare who stuck around with him for a long time? But on the other hoof a small part of me wanted to swoon like it was our first date all over again.

Finally, I regained most of my composure. “Hehe, you flatter me, Renanto. But thank you. Now,” I said as I shuffled back into place, “this might hurt a bit more, but I’ll do my best.”

I tilted my hoof inwards just a bit, allowing me to use the harder edges instead of the softer pad in the middle. And I began rhythmically pressing on the knot, alternating from the left hoof to the right, then back again, in a rhythmic patter.

“Mhmm… oh t-that’s great…” I heard him mumble, his voice broken up a bit by the constant tapping on his back. I kept it up for a minute more until I felt the knot finally begin to noticeably loosen.

“There we go…” I whispered while I began to lighten the pressure. “Got the worst of it, so the rest should be easy now.”

“Phew,” he breathed, “that’s so much better already. Thank you, Peony.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Shall I continue?”

“Yes—” his reply was cut off by a big yawn. “Oh, excuse me. I mean, yes, please. I am putty in your hooves.”

“Falling asleep on me already?” I chuckled.

“Heh, I guess so.” He stifled a second yawn before continuing. “I guess I was more worn out by this trip than I thought.”

“Then it is a good thing you came here then,” I replied as I continued down his sides with lighter pressure and a fresh dribble of oil. “You said you were doing a lot of digging, I think? That is surely quite taxing on one’s body.”

“There was some dirt involved, yes,” he muttered, “But even more digging through boxes and crates, unpacking storage, and on and on. All to find just a few needed things for my clients.”

“My my, that does sound like hard work.” Now I knew for sure the secret ingredient was working its literal magic. He was getting very relaxed, and a bit more talkative too. Exactly what I needed. “I hope your search was successful at least, for all the actual pain it’s put you in.”

“It was, yes,” he answered. “We eventually found what we were looking for.”

I smiled, and promptly put together another little piece of the plan in my head. “That is good to hear. If you don’t mind my asking, what do you do for work?”

It was subtle, but I felt his muscles tighten up just a bit at my question. I took a deep breath, hoping I hadn’t overstepped too much.

“It’s… hmm. I suppose you can say that I’m an explorer of sorts. Ponies and other creatures ask me to find things, and I go and find them.”

“Then whoever sent you all the way out here must really want whatever it is they asked you to get. It’s at least 2-3 days to the closest Equestrian port, even by airship.” I chuckled. “I hope they at least paid for your travel ticket.”

“Oh, they did,” he laughed in return. “The harder the request, the higher my fee.” After a moment’s silence, he spoke again. “May I ask you a question, my dear Peony?”

“Um, sure,” I replied as I moved around to the other side of the table and began running a fresh pair of warmed stones up and down his right side.

“Is there any chance I’ve bumped into you before?”

I kept my hooves moving but couldn’t help slowing down a bit at that question. I nearly bit my tongue to keep myself marginally calm. Was he on to me? I glanced up into the mirror, and that blue pegasus with light hair was still looking back at me. Okay, my disguise hadn’t failed, but I had to be careful here.

“Hmm, I don’t believe so. If I may be so bold, I doubt I’d forget a name as unique as yours,” I added, turning on the charm a bit to hopefully distract him.

“Why thank you. I’m the third in my family’s long line to carry the name, actually. But back to the point…” he paused to yawn a bit again. “I often avail myself of some pampering when making long trips such as this, so I’ve had more than a few spa days, so to speak.”

“Mhmm,” I replied, keeping my hooves moving the entire time, now down to the top part of his flank.

“Out of them all, yours has been far and away the best massage I’ve had. It’s as if you have my poor back memorized.”

I do, as a matter of fact. And I can’t decide if I should be suppressing a shiver of disgust right now, or a shiver of warm fuzzies.

“That’s incredibly nice of you to say, Renanto. Thank you. I’ve only been doing this professionally for a few years now, so I’m sure you’ve been helped by far more experienced ponies than me.”

“Perhaps,” he replied, sighing as I worked another one of his chronic knots out just above his cutiemark, “but you do have the magic touch. Not since—” he suddenly paused and cleared his throat. “Er, I mean that it’s been quite a longtime since I’ve had a massage that made my back feel this good.”

I wanted to cry, melt, and scream all at once. That of all things, he remembered my clumsy but slowly improved attempts to unkink his perennially sore back, amazed me. Another part of me wanted to scream at him, to club him over the head until he came to his senses and rejoined the civilized, non-criminal world. And still, despite it all, a slowly smoldering part of me desperately wanted to kiss him over and over again, as if sheer force of will would bring back the pony I loved. That I still loved. Or at least the idea of him.

“W-Well…” I finally whispered, “if you ever see that masseuse again, you’ll have to let me know how we measure up to each other.” I smiled through the strain on my nerves. “Maybe they can teach me a few tricks too.”

He laughed, but sighed just as quickly. “I doubt I’ll see that particular pony again.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Well, they weren’t a masseuse, really. At least not as their job. She… was my marefriend at the time.”

“Oh, I see. You said ‘at the time’, so does that mean…” I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear how he’d spin it.

“Yes. It was sudden, after years of being with her too. And angry, and bitter, and all the worst ways to end something like that.”

I kept my mouth shut and let him keep talking as I applied a final thin coat of restorative conditioner to his mane and tail.

“I suppose, looking back, it was inevitable. Life was taking me onto the path I’m on now. To put it simply, finding things is what my family has done for generations. It’s a… rough business. Quite dirty, in fact.”

Okay, now I couldn’t resist any longer.

“So, you had to choose then.”

He sighed. “For a moment, I thought I could have it both ways, you know. The job and the mare. But I should have known better. She would never thrive in this line of work.”

“Oh?” I pressed on just a bit more. “And you can sit up now if you’d like. I’m all done.”

I stepped back and let him return to a relative sitting position, which also allowed me to actually look at him again. I hated how good he looked in the dim lights, still shiny from the conditioners and oils.

“I mean,” he continued, don’t get me wrong. She was an incredible pony. Amazingly smart too. But… well let’s just say she wouldn’t approve of the methods you sometimes need to employ to succeed in my field.”

“You must miss her a lot then,” I replied, simultaneously curious and fearful of his answer.

“Yes and no,” he said after a moment’s thought. “I really did love her, and I miss so much about her. But also no, because I know she’d hate what I do now. Who I work for. And why.”

“Love and hate have a weird way of coexisting, don’t they?”

He yawned again. “Hmm, that they do.”

Again, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to punch him or kiss him. He regretted it so much, yet here he was continuing to do it anyway? I wanted to scream so badly just then.

At that point, all I really needed to do was keep him talking for a few more minutes. Ten, maybe fifteen at the most. By then the spiked massage oil would have pushed him into a nap no matter what he was doing at the time. Then it was as simple as retrieving the artifact from his locker, tossing the uniform, and making my escape.

But the things he said, the way his skin felt underneath my hooves, the endless memories that stampeded through my heart… it triggered something in me. Like an old light being turned back on after a long silence.

I was going to absolutely loathe myself tomorrow. But that was future me’s problem. Today’s me needed to feel that connection again, if only for a moment. My heart demanded it, and I hated and loved it for what I was about to do.

Looking at the small clock next to the sink, I began collecting some of the supplies from around the massage table. “Well, it seems we finished just about on time. But, it turns out there is not an appointment immediately after yours, so…” I made a point of brushing the tip of my tail across his back legs, which were dangling just off the edge of the bed. “Is here anything else I can do for you?”

“Really?” he asked, that sly tone sliding right back into his voice immediately. “I have already been thoroughly pampered, my dear Peony. What else did you have in mind?”

“Well,” I put the now cool stones in the sink and looked over my shoulder at him, “there are a few, well, ‘off the menu’ services I can offer.”

“Other serv—” He raised an eyebrow. “Ah, I see, I see. Peony, you surprise me! I did not think an establishment such as this would entertain such debauchery.”

“And it does not,” I replied, casting him a smug look of my own. “This is just between me and you.”

And it was. In more ways than he realized.

“Suppose I was interested,” he chuckled. “What’s on this unofficial menu, hmm?”

“Just another massage,” I said. “A bit more vigorous this time though. Really works the last of that pent up stress out of you.”

He leaned forward a bit and smiled. “Why miss Peony, are you trying to seduce your client?”

“Am I?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” He looked me up and down, his eyes undressing me more by the second. “Yes, you are.”

“Should I stop?” I whispered as I stepped right up to him, putting my nose just inches away from his.

“No.” He leaned forward, our lips met, and I felt equal parts ashamed and thrilled at the same time.

Maybe I thought it’d be a salacious way to get some revenge on Renanto. Give him a taste of what he’s missing without him knowing it. Another part of me thought that betraying the modicum of trust he had placed in me to keep his stolen goods safe would be just one more log on the stack of defeats and indignities he had suffered at my disguised hooves since throwing it all away. And, I was ashamed to admit, there was a third part of me present in that moment. The little piece of me that was still madly in love and clinging to hope that somehow, she could pull this stallion back from the darkness.

But in the moment, my attention was increasingly drawn to his lips, which were slowly drawing me deeper into his kiss. I reciprocated and leaned in, letting our tongues gently brush against each other for a moment.

“Mmm…” I hummed as I leaned back, casting him a tawdry look. “Did anypony ever tell you that you’re a great kisser?”

“Heh,” he chuckled, leaning closer again. “Once or twice.”

More like a few hundred or so, as I very distinctly recall.

We kissed again, this time letting tongues and hooves start to wander. I couldn’t risk tipping him off completely, but I did use a couple of little tricks that I knew he liked, like curling my tongue and dragging it across his bottom lip, or nipping in just the right spots behind his jaw. Contorting ourselves half on and half off of a table not really designed for this briefly brought back memories of us making out on our cheap dorm room furniture, and trying not to move too hard or too fast, lest it break more than it already was. As it was, the massage table creaked more than a little as we half-climbed over each other.

Finally, we broke for a moment to catch our breath. “My my,” Renanto whispered, “your lips are as skilled as your hooves, Peony.”

I smiled and hummed in response. “I’m just getting started.”

“Are you now?” He smiled and kissed me again. “Well then, what did you have in mind?”

I slid off the table and gestured with a wing. “Lay back down on your stomach.”

While it’s technically correct to say that massage tables like this weren’t designed specifically for sex, that doesn’t necessarily mean that they can’t be used for that anyway. Take the oval shaped cutout in the top surface of the table. It’s there for a simple and practical purpose – to give male clients somewhere to place their, well, ‘equipment’ once they lay down on top of the table. But it also means that, if one were to crawl under said table, you’d have a stallion’s balls literally in your face.

And that was just perfect.

I ducked down just as he was getting himself situated again, quickly disappearing under the long table skirt that framed the table, hiding the entire underneath section from view.

“Peony?” I heard him call. “Where did you go?”

“Down here.”

I saw him look down through the hole in the middle of the headrest, where his snout would normally go, and I greeted him with a smug grin.

“Well…” he laid his head down now, letting his nose poke through to the underside. “this must be quite the unique massage you have planned.”

“Hmm, maybe. But I think you’ll like it” I twisted my body a bit, coming out of my crouch just enough to reach my own head up to kiss him. “Now just relax and let me work out every last drop of stress.”

I shuffled forward until I was directly beneath his haunches, and once I found my balance, I reached out with both wingtips toward his sheath.

“O-Oh!” I heard him hum the moment I made contact.

“Like I said, I think you’ll like it.” I spent the next few minutes letting my wingtips wander, brushing and teasing every part of him that I could reach. It didn’t take too long for his body to respond, and soon enough I had his quickly rising penis cradled in my forehooves.

“Oh my,” I said, playing up the moment with my voice. “What do we have here, hmm?”

“The source of my stress, apparently,” he replied. “Do you have anything that can help?”

I hummed contentedly. “I think so.” I stretched my head up just a bit and began planting gentle kisses along the base of his shaft. I turned a bit, dragging the tip of my tongue along the sensitive skin before repeating those little kisses on the other side.

I didn’t need to ask if it was working. The quickly stiffening cock in my grip told the entire story. Still, I couldn’t resist egging him on just a bit.

“Working so far?”

“Oh, very much, my dear. Please, keep going.”

And so I did just that, lavishing kisses and licks up and down his shaft until it was as hard as the floor beneath my rump. And all the while, I let my hooves and wingtips wander, caressing his balls, or teasing his haunches. I loved that I still knew all the little things that made him squirm and gasp in pleasure, but I hated that his was the touch that part of me still yearned for, even after more than a decade apart.

Still, I was close to my goal, and based on the heavy breathing I heard from behind me, so was he. I shifted again, this time dragging the flat part of my tongue all the way from his balls to the tip of his shaft, before taking him into my mouth and sucking him like a lollipop. I set a deliberate but constant pace, pushing him more and more with each lick, while my wingtips took turns teasing the base of his shaft even more.

He didn’t tell me he was about to cum, but he didn’t need to. The deep, rumbling groan I heard him make was enough. It was the same sound he made every time. I loved that I still knew that, because it gave me just enough time to scoot my head out the way enough to not get blasted in the face. But I hated it too – not just because I still knew all that, but because part of me wished I was fully on the receiving end of his passion, just like I was before. Just like I thought I always would be.

I kept stroking him with my wingtips while he finished, coating the floor behind me with ropes of hot, sticky cum. “There we go, Renanto, just let it alll out.” I gently kissed his shaft a few more times, enjoying the extra mewls and whinnies of pleasure it coaxed out of him as he rode out the moment.

After a couple of minutes had passed, I shuffled out from beneath the table, straightened my uniform, and quickly threw a towel down over the mess left behind.

“Are we all relaxed now, my friend?”

It took me a moment to realize he had not answered me. I stepped around the table, carefully leaning to get a glimpse of his face – and that's when I heard him lightly snoring away. Just as planned. “You always did fall asleep too fast afterwards, you know,” I whispered.

I quietly stepped away and left the room without looking back. It took but a few minutes to slip into the locker room, pick his locker with a manepin pulled from my mane, and find the trio of ancient gems he had squirreled away in his saddlebags.

It wasn’t until I had left the building through the back service entrance and flew to the outskirts of town that I found a secluded spot to remove the pendant, instantly dropping the transformation spell and restoring my normal look. And as I began to fly off toward the town’s airship hub, I strangely found myself wondering how long I’d have to wait for my next opportunity to outwit my ex.

Maybe these weren't such terrible assignments after all.

So there you have it, Red Shoes. I love to hate him for who he is, but I hate myself for still loving who he was – and who I don’t think I’ll ever stop wishing he would be again. Maybe one day I’ll figure out which side of that equation wins out.

What about you, Red Shoes? Which side would you choose?

Author's Note

Big thanks again to my friend and fellow author Dewdrops on the Grass for her pre-reading and feedback, and for suggesting an excellent first name for ol' Caballeron!

I have more chapters and ideas already simmering away, so there's definitely much more still to come. Thanks as always for your support! -Vic