Author's Note

This episode was partially inspired by recent plot developments in the story 'Mis-Shapes', by Grimm.

NOTE that this is also the first true 'infidelity' angle that this series has seen. Infidelity by its nature carries an emotional weight behind it, and that factor is increased here, thanks in part to the above mentioned inspiration piece. So, as a fair warning, consider this chapter tagged for: infidelity with a slight dark undertone.

After this chapter, it'll be back to our regularly scheduled flings. ;)

Episode 8 - Confessions (Twilight Velvet)

Dear Red Shoes,

Your diary means something to every pony that writes to you. If it didn't, nopony would open their closets to your pages, after all. Whoever you are, you represent something different, something unique, to each mare that has come to you. A friend for some, an outlet for others, and a faceless confidant for many. But me, well, I don't need any of those, for they are beyond the capacity to help me.

What I need, Red Shoes... is a confessor.

The bedside clock read a bleary eight forty-five as I slid out from beneath the sheets. My legs still felt like so much pudding, and I could already feel the beginnings of a kink in my lower back. Standing alone felt like a monumental achievement, especially with my brain still half asleep, but I somehow stumbled into the bathroom without stubbing a hoof on anything.

I reached a hoof around the door frame and blindly fumbled for the light switch, though I sorely regretted the idea the second the bright artificial lights waged war upon my still sleepy eyes. I retreated a step and turned away, focusing out into the adjacent bedroom to wait out the bright spots in my vision. My eyes were drawn immediately to the bed, and the sleeping pony that still laid in its warm embrace. If I listened carefully, I could hear a light snore from the other side of the massive king sized bed. He always snored after strenuous activities, and the dull ache in my hind legs was a quiet reminder that last night had been filled with very strenuous activities, if you know what I mean.

Normally, this would have made me smile. Somewhere inside of myself, I'm sure I did smile then. But there was just one problem.

This wasn't my bedroom in Canterlot.

And the stallion that I had been sleeping next to was not my husband.

My stomach churned like a storm-wracked boat, sending me lunging toward the marble sink in the bathroom. I think I turned the water on while I dry heaved a few times, but really, I don't remember. I was too busy keeping my gut inside of me as the weight of the previous night began to run me down like a rabid timberwolf. I tried to ignore it, but I knew the voice, that voice, was coming.

'You did it again.'

"But this is the last time," I muttered. She was there, I could hear it.

'That's what you said last time too.'

"I know, but... but this time will be different. I'll end it–"

'With him rutting you one more time before you leave? That's what you want, isn't it?'

I looked up into the mirror, water dripping coldly from my muzzle. My conscience – if I could even call it that anymore – was there, glaring, sneering down at me as if I were mere dirt beneath her hooves. "Stop it."

'Stop? If anypony should stop, it's you. Then again, 'stop' doesn't seem to be in your vocabulary. At least not when he's pounding–'

"I said stop it. Stop mocking me."

'Face it, you can't stop. You won't. You're a whore.'

"W-what?!" I seethed at my reflection. "How dare–"

'How dare I? How dare you, you little harlot.'

Cold, bitter tears joined the last rivulets of water on my cheeks. "You're cruel; pathetic."

The gleam in her eyes was sickening. I had left her an opening, and she took it. 'What's pathetic is you jumping on his cock the second you step off the train, like a druggie who can't wait for their next hit of crack salt. And cruel? Cruel is what you're doing to your family. You do remember you have a family, right?'

Rage began to take hold. At her. At myself. "Of course I remember, you... you–"

'Bitch? Slut? Whore? Homewrecker?' She leaned forward and pressed her muzzle to the glass. The look in her eyes spoke of nothing but contempt. 'They're all true of course, though after last night I'd add 'Expert in fellatio' and 'Future rodeo champion' to the list.'

"Go to tartarus."

She backed away from the mirror and sneered back at me. 'Okay, but remember, my little cum dumpster... if I go, you go too.'

"That's a fine way to say good morning."

I nearly jumped out of my skin in surprise. How long had he been standing there? Did he hear anything? Or Everything? "Don't scare me like that, Spell!"

Spellbind draped a hoof over my withers and stepped closer. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry, alright? I just thought I heard something, and saw the light was on, so I came to check–"

"How much did you hear?" I asked him. Alarms were going off in my head, adding to my already pounding headache.

"Well, I, not much."

"How much?" My eyes were still red from sleep and angry tears, but I had to know.

"Just the end, I promise," Spellbind looked right at me as he spoke. Celestia's flank, those eyes. Such a deep, luscious red. They were like two priceless garnet stones, accented by a smooth horn, framed by a beautiful sky blue mane, and covered by a deep charcoal coat that could have been cut from the night sky itself.

But those eyes got me every time. Just like they did the first time I saw him three months ago. I was in Manehattan to attend a series of meetings with some publishers and other industry contacts to plan the next year's publication schedule when I saw him at a bar. He looked at me with those deep red pools, flashed a warm but unassuming smile, and before I knew it, I was telling my life story to a total stranger. Some hours and countless drinks later, we stumbled back to his uptown apartment, and well, you can figure out what happened next.

That was the first time. I swore then I'd never buck up like that again, that it was all a stupid, drunken mistake.

Two weeks later, I was back in Manehattan for more meetings. I looked him up and met him at a coffee shop to apologize for my role in that debacle and try to send us both away with at least some of our dignity. The next morning, I woke up next to him again, covered in dried sweat, massage oil, and all manner of other substances.

And the worst part of all? I enjoyed it. I enjoyed letting my inhibitions run wild, to let him have his way with me, and I with him, in ways I could never dream of. He was everything a mare could want: Tall, dark, highly educated, and so incredibly handsome, with a body that perfectly blended the strength of an earth pony with the sleek lines of a unicorn. He was as much an intellectual as he was a smoldering hunk of stallion flesh. But, he wasn't my husband. He belonged to nopony, but I most certainly belonged to another. Yet I could not deny the way he made me feel, the way he satisfied my most carnal desires.

After I returned home, I choked down my shame, washed my traveling clothes three times in a row, and concocted a tale of boring meetings and lonely nights to satisfy my husband's inquiries. But those red eyes never left my memories. The smell of that blue mane never left my nose. The memory of his weight upon my back, his hooves around my chest, his breath in my ear, his long, thick cock buried to the hilt inside of me... I couldn't stop thinking about all of it.

Even as I made love to my husband, I saw him in my mind's eye. It was wrong, so very wrong. But I craved more. I needed more. Maybe I was the druggie that my reflection said I was after all. I made it three silent, tortuous weeks at home before I gave in and scheduled another 'planning meeting' to Manehattan.

Now, we had graduated from overnights at his uptown apartment to secret rendezvous in one of the swankier hotels in the city. It was as much to avoid arousing suspicion from his neighbors as it was to keep me as anonymous as possible. After all, nopony would question who 'Velvet Star' was when she checked in as a guest at the Waldorf Trotoria. Nopony would look twice at the middle aged mare taking the lift to the suite level with a dashing stallion, or act surprised when she spent half the night filling the upper hallways with her wanton cries.

Of course, the only 'planning' we did was to decide what to order from room service. An entire three day 'business trip' spent rutting like hormone-addled teenagers, trying every position we could think of, and some that I thought only existed in books. I lost track of how many orgasms I had at his hooves, or how many times I had screamed his name while riding his member until I nearly collapsed. The echoes of passion rang through me like gongs.

"More!" "Faster, Spellbind, faster!" "Deeper!" "Harder!" "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Loud, painful gongs, each one bringing another lust-filled image to my mind, and another icy stab through my heart. I leaned onto the vanity and tried to hide my face in my forehooves. "Oh, what are we doing..."

"Exactly what you wanted to do, Velvet," he said quietly while he shuffled in closer. "Besides, this hotel thing was mostly your idea, and well, you do still want this, right?"

I looked at him through the mirror, my blue eyes catching his deep red stare. I saw her looking at him too, from the other side of the mirror. She was disgusted, angry, confused. At me, at him.

At us.

"I– I don't know anymore, Spell," my tail brushed his leg, "I just don't know."

He gave me a pensive look. "Right, I get it. I know your situation's a bit more, um, complicated than my own, but that hasn't stopped us yet. Besides, you said it yourself at the coffee shop–"

"I know what I said," I grumbled, "my life's not the picture-perfect marriage I might imagine it to be, but that still doesn't excuse what I've done, and you know it."

"Perhaps," he said smoothly, "but what I do know is that you're a different mare when you're with me. You're vibrant and full of energy. I've watched you get on and off that train, and it's like night and day." Spell leaned over and kissed the back of my neck, right where he knew it'd give me a warm shiver.

"Your home might be in Canterlot, but your eyes tell a different story," he kissed a bit lower on my neck, "to say nothing of what that gorgeous flank told me last night."

"Do they?" I turned to meet his gaze and had to consciously keep my heart from fluttering on its own. "What do you see, Spell? Because all I see is a mare past her prime who's well on her way to destroying everything."

"Hmm, well..." he lifted my chin with a hoof and pecked me on the lips and damn me I couldn't help but shiver from the contact. "...if you run into a mare like that, you let me know. Because what I see is a beautiful and smart mare with no kids at home, a spouse that's always working instead of being a husband, and more than a few desires that have yet to be satisfied."

He was wrong. So wrong, I wanted to slap him, to throw him out of his own hotel room while I tried to pick up the pieces of myself.

But he was right too. So right, I wanted to throw myself on the floor and beg him to take me again, to suck my horn just like he did last night, then do it all again and again until I passed out in his hooves.

"You make it sound like it's an easy choice," I whispered.

He stepped closer and nuzzled me. It made me shudder in horror and pleasure. "It's only a hard choice if you make it one. In a way," he slowly traced a hoof up my cheek and brushed my forelock away from my eyes, "you made your choice already."

His eyes met mine, two red orbs of lust staring through my own eyes as if they were mere glass. "Question is, do you want to change your mind?"

I raised my muzzle to stare back and I could feel everything. His breath across my muzzle. His hoof resting on my shoulder, the lingering musk on his coat. I just stood there and looked at him while fire and ice waged war in my heart. Regret and guilt wracked my conscience while lust and a twisted, tainted love filled my gut.

Family against lust. Fidelity against betrayal. Dedication against pure debauchery.

It should have been an easy choice, and he was right, it was.

Who knew a soul could be condemned for eternity with a single kiss? Because the moment I grabbed his muzzle and drew his lips to mine, I swear I heard whatever demons lie in Tartarus laugh manically as they gained yet another future resident. But at the time, I was too focused on running my tongue across every inch of his mouth.

I had taken him by surprise, but only for a moment. Spellbind pressed back against me, and soon his tongue was invading my mouth with a purpose. His hooves wrapped around my neck and pulled me closer to him. He was a good deal taller than me, but I loved having to lean up and into him to kiss his smooth lips. I sagged into his embrace readily, craning my neck up to accept as much of his tongue as I could.

Only the need for air broke our kiss, though he stopped just long enough to draw air before his lips went to work on my neck and the tips of my ears. My tail was already twitching with excitement, knowing what was to come, and I could already feel my haunches warming up. A faint hum of magic caught my attention, followed a second later by the sound of running water.

"Mmm, ready for a shower?" He hummed between kisses and gentle nips.

"O-oh, mmhm... won't we get dirty again?" I squeaked as another shudder ran down my spine.

He stopped and looked at me, making sure to let a hoof drift over my cutie mark. "In that case," he whispered into my ear, "I'll just have to soap you up twice."

Spellbind was hot on my heels as I stepped into the oversized rainforest shower. His hooves and lips roamed freely across my back and down my sides as the hot water cascaded down from the ceiling. I turned on him and nearly leaped into him with as hot a kiss as I could muster. I pushed my lips harder and harder into him, panting with near desperation for his touch.

"Mmph, wow you're good..." he moaned while I began nipping and biting at his neck, "but I can take it from here."

He kissed me quickly before turning me around again so I was facing away from him and toward what amounted to the front wall of the nearly alicorn-sized shower. He slowly ran his hooves over my flanks while his magic reached out to a small duffel bag across the room and retrieved a bottle of jasmine and rose scented shampoo and a very soft shower sponge. The sponge hovered beside my head while he slathered the shampoo all over me, the thick but cool liquid running slowly through my fur.

Encased in his light red aura, the sponge began a meticulous journey over every inch of me, buffing away the sweat, the pheromones, and the dried semen. Somewhere, what little was left of my conscience begged to be cleansed as well, to be freed from the black stain that even now was tightening its grip around my very being. But it's pleas for mercy went unheeded as his hoof began tracing faint circles around my dock and across my marehood. "Oh, yes... that's wonderful..."

"Isn't it?" Spell cooed while the sponge continued working its way down my barrel. "When was the last time you indulged yourself like this, hmm?"

I couldn't even remember, to be honest. All I could do was hum contentedly and lean back into him while my tail began slowly swinging back and forth. "You like that, I see. Should I stop?" The question was punctuated with another pass of his hoof across my outer lips.

"N-no, don't stop..."

Between the steam, the heavenly smell of the shampoo, and the quickly growing dampness beneath my tail, I was totally lost to everything else. My tail began rising all on its own and I squirmed back against him, silently begging him for more. The sponge worked its way over my nipples before softly cleaning every inch of my haunches. I whimpered and squirmed under his touch, and all the while, his free hooves were massaging everything they could reach. It didn't take long for me to become a soapy, dripping mess of putty in Spell's hooves.

My tail was whipping back and forth like crazy, the soaked strands of hair whipping against his sides more with every passing second. The sponge finally retreated while he nudged the shower head enough to rinse the remaining suds from my body.

Not that it mattered, because the sponge was quickly replaced by his tongue.

"O-oh yes! Aahn!" With my tail already out of the way, Spell's tongue went straight for its prize. His tongue was consistent but deliberate, and like the sponge, he left no piece of my cunt unexplored.

"Uhn, yes– Yes..."

I could feel my juices flooding my system as fast as the adrenaline was filling my veins. He brought a hoof under my barrel and massaged my nipples while his tongue found new ways to delve deeper and deeper into me. He had gone down on me before, but not like this. Not with hot water falling over both of us, our faces all but lost in a haze of steam, soap, and seduction. It took great effort to keep from collapsing right there as endless shudders rocked through me.

Somehow, I focused enough to ignite my own magic, and soon a tendril of my own magic was flitting across his body. I couldn't fully see him over my shoulder, but I knew exactly where I was headed.

"Sss... Oh, w-wow!" He sputtered when my magic hit home, wrapping around his sheath like a piece of silk. I moved very slowly at first while I stabilized the magic to provide light but tangible pressure, and soon I had his balls wrapped in a slow magical massage. "V-Velvet, don't stop..." he called between panted breaths.

I whipped my tail against him again, and that spurred him back into action. If my soul could have seen me then, it would have been horrified at what it saw. There I was in the middle of a shower, magically fellating another stallion while lewdly grinding my now thoroughly flared pussy against his mouth. His cock quickly emerged from its sheath, and it was harder than I had ever felt. My body shuddered at the thought of his thick member impaling itself in me, sending another rivulet of arousal flowing out onto his waiting tongue.

"Spell, I want you. Now– Aahn! Now, please." I moaned in between waves of raw pleasure.

Just then, I glanced through the gold frame of the shower door, and I saw her. She was still there, watching; and judging by the contempt in her eyes, she had seen it all.

'See? What did I tell you? One more rut before you go, you whore.'

My eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in anger, then widened again as his tongue found my clit.

'What's the matter, Velvet? No glib remark? No pithy comeback?' she leered at me while I arched my haunches further into Spell's mouth. 'You're too horny to even reply now, aren't you. You disgust me.'

Her words stung like dry ice on fur, or was that just another shock of pleasure? I couldn't even tell anymore, I was so far gone. Suddenly, Spell backed away and stood up, causing my magical tendril to sputter and die. I tried to form a question in between hurried breathes, but I felt his blessed, accursed hooves embrace me immediately, and I just melted into him again.

"Just follow my lead."

He nudged me forward until my muzzle was nearly touching the wall in front of me. His hooves dipped under my shoulders and lifted me up; I thought he was setting up for me to sit on him like I had last night, but he stopped me halfway and gently leaned me forward. He shuffled behind me and began to lean against me in a similar fashion, but as I looked out to the mirror to watch, I saw her again, half-hidden by the haze of steam and pheromones.

'I almost feel sorry for you,' she muttered, 'after all, one should feel empathy for the lowliest among us, right? I think you wrote that in your self-help book last year.'

His hooves ran up and down my sides as he positioned himself behind me. My nerves were on fire the moment his erection slid up under my belly.

'But I can't feel sorry for a mare that has no decency, no shame.' She continued to whisper, but all I heard was the pounding of my heart, the roar of adrenaline and lust in my veins, and the slap of my tail against the glass door.

'You'll lose it all. You know that.'

He was right there. I could feel his tip brushing my outer lips, moving like a lecherous snake, just waiting for the right moment to strike.

'Your husband. Your family. Your career. All of it, gone.'

I squirmed desperately against him, my hind legs shaking with anticipation.

'It might not happen immediately, but don't you dare think you'll get away with it.'

He slipped past my outer lips and I cried out. With my front half nearly flat against the wall, his fully engorged shaft slid into me like an iron from a forge, pressing in deeper in one stroke that I had ever felt. I nearly collapsed right there from sheer overload.

'One day, it'll all come back to burn you.'

"Yes, right there! Don't stop– Aahn! Oh stars, yes!" I ground my pussy against him, drawing him as deep as I possibly could. I all but exploded when his hooves joined mine on the wall, pulling me back against his chest while he slid in and out of my soaked cunt with smooth, long strokes.

"More, Spell, more! Rut me!"

'And you'll be left with nothing.'

"Y-yes! Oh, Spell, yes! Yes! Aahn!" I screamed as he buried himself fully inside of me, filling every inch of my flared pussy. His strokes shortened and I could feel the ring inside his penis rubbing against my upper walls every time he moved. It only took a few seconds of that to send me hurtling toward the edge. "I-I'm so close! Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop– Yes!"

'And that's what you deserve, you slut. Nothing.

He wrapped his hooves around me and pulled me tighter. I could feel him shuddering against me, his breathing ragged, his movements quickening by the second. "Don't stop, Spell! Cum with me!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I could barely make her out in the foggy mirror. I couldn't see her whole face, but the sadistic gleam in her eyes said it all. Just before a wave of steam covered the mirror completely, I heard her say one final thing.

'I'll see you again, Velvet. Among the ashes of your existence.'

It was almost poetic justice that we chose that very second to reach our orgasms. His cock flared like never before and I screamed his name as the first shot of liquid fire coated my inner walls. My muscles clamped around his shaft and milked every drop of seed it could, as if it were a carnal ambrosia. I ground my haunches against him as we rode out our orgasms, and as I cried out to the heavens, I couldn't tell if it was a cry of ecstasy...

...or a cry for salvation.

And that, Red Shoes, is my confession. My lurid, sordid confession, laid bare for you and your readers. I'm due to see him again next month, but Celestia help me I'm going to end it. I can't go on like this. That voice, from a pony I used to know as the real me, she was right. I should have stopped long ago, and I've only dug myself deeper. I'm not even sure if I can really save myself when all is said and done.

I just hope that when the fire returns to exact its toll for my misdeeds – and I know it will – I hope it spares my family.