An Unconventional Arrangement

Patchwork awoke to a shrill scream.

“Rarity!” Patchwork yelled in a panic, jumping up from the couch and bounding up the stairs. He threw the door to her bedroom open and entered, expecting to see her injured, or dying, or having a nightmare, or-

“Hello, Patchwork.”

Patchwork jumped at the sudden voice from behind him, turning to see that Rarity was standing next to the door. She shut it quickly, and smiled at him with lidded eyes.

“By Luna, you scared the hell out of me,” Patchwork said, his hand to his heart. He noticed that Rarity was wearing casual nightwear: a large plain T-shirt, and a black pair of leggings that hugged her hips snuggly.

“Sorry, Patchwork,” Rarity said, pouting. “I didn’t mean to.” She started to approach him slowly.

“It’s...it’s fine, but why did you scream?” Patchwork asked, trying to keep his eyes on her face.

“How else was I supposed to get you in here so quickly?” Rarity asked, smiling playfully. She was standing right in front of him now, and traced a finger on his clothed chest. “Be a dear and back up a bit, would you?”

Patchwork swallowed and shook nervously, not understanding what was happening.

“Why?” he asked.

“I asked nicely, didn’t I?” Rarity said quietly. Patchwork didn’t see any harm in it, and back up, Rarity’s finger pushing him by the center of his chest. Eventually, the back of his legs hit her bed. He was about to question Rarity further when she pushed him by the shoulders, causing him to fall onto the bed. Rarity wasn’t far behind, hopping up into his lap.

Leaning forwards, she quickly grabbed his wrists and pinned them over his head on the bed. Her long purple hair hung down and draped either side of her coy, playful face.

“R-R-R-Rarity?” Patchwork stuttered, not knowing what to make of this development.

“Mhm?” she hummed, lowering her head ever so slowly.

“Wh-What’s happening?”

“I’m seducing you,” she said slowly, her lips only an inch from his.

“But-Mph!”

Her lips pressed into his. Spreading her mouth open, her tongue flicked against his lips momentarily before forcefully entering his mouth. It slowly trailed along his own tongue, twirled around his canines, and then pulled out. Their lips made an audible ‘pop’ as they separated, a small length of saliva connecting their lips. Rarity licked her lips, cutting the strand of saliva and taking it into her mouth. She smirked at him, amused.

“You’re a terrible kisser.”

“I, uh…sorry?”

“Don’t worry. We have plenty time to practice.”

She lowered her head quickly and entered into another kiss, her tongue entering his mouth once again. Hesitantly, he began to move his mouth in tandem with hers, his tongue slowly playing with hers until it developed into a half-hearted battle for dominance. Before the winner was decided, Rarity pulled away again. Removing her hands from his wrists, she sat up in his lap.

She pulled her t-shirt over her head and tossed it to the side, revealing her lacy white brassiere. She deftly removed it and threw it behind her, then turned her attention to the man before her. His brain fought with his primal urges as his eyes struggled to meet Rarity’s face.

She readjusted herself, sitting on her knees on either side of him, then leaned forwards, using her arms to support herself on either side of his head. Her ample breasts hung over him, begging for his attention.

“R-Rarity, I-“ Patchwork began, but Rarity cut him off my leaning down and engulfing his face in her chest. She smiled as she felt the heat radiating from his face transfer to her breasts.

“Play with me…” Rarity ordered huskily, her eyes half lidded.

“I really don’t think-“Rarity pressed her breasts further into his face.

“It wasn’t a question,” she reminded him. She pulled away, content to simply have her breasts situated a mere inch above him, giving him ample room to play. “Now.”

There was a pause in which he simply lay there, contemplating the situation that he’d been presented with, and weighing the pros and cons of said situation. Eventually, his hands slowly began to make their way to her chest, unsure and wavering. When they finally reached their target, they gently closed around both of them, fingers towards her sides and thumbs above her pink, erect nipples. He silently marveled at how soft, yet firm, they were. His eyes went back to Rarity’s, a question in his eyes. She gave him nod and a sultry smirk, and his eyes returned to her chest.

Patchwork leaned his head up, still quite unsure of himself. He brought his mouth to her left nipple, stroking it with his tongue, then withdrew and blew lightly onto it. Rarity shuddered from the cool sensation on such a sensitive part of her body, her breasts vibrating ever so slightly. His hands began to grope against her breasts, kneading them with his hands. His thumbs ran circles around her nipples, gently twirling them. Rarity’s breathing became heavier with each passing moment, the pleasure from having her sensitive breasts toyed with fully evident. She began to gently grind against him, believing that he deserved as much. He quietly groaned from the sensation; a groan that was quickly quieted when Rarity lowered herself and pressed her nipple into his mouth.

He sat there for a moment, trying to think of what to do. He didn’t exactly have a giant amount of sexual experience; certainly not any with a woman like this. Suddenly, something came to mind.

He lightly bit against her nipple, then looked up to gauge her reaction. A breath caught in her throat, her mouth slightly open and her eyes lidded. He didn’t break eye contact as he lightly sucked, then gave a harder bite. Her eyes shut as she moaned, squirming above him. He moved on to the next breast, repeating the process, eliciting the same reaction.

She suddenly sat up in his lap, wincing in a mixture of pain and pleasure as his teeth pulled against her nipple before it was freed from his clutches.

“W-What’s wrong?” Patchwork timidly asked, afraid that he had overstepped his bounds. She just smiled and cupped his face in her silky hand, stroking his cheek.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong,” she assured warmly. “I just thought we could move on to something a bit more…advanced.”

He gulped nervously as her hand trailed down his bare chest, a single finger drawing circles around his nipple.

“What did you have in m-mind?” Patchwork asked, trying to bolster his confidence. She responded by standing up slowly, her bare feet sinking into the bed on either side of him. The angle gave him a remarkable view; her leggings had sunk slightly into her womanhood, outlining it perfectly. His busy eyes noticed that a small damp spot had collected in that particular area, and he quickly looked away in embarrassment.

Rarity inserted a thumb on either side of her leggings, then, in an impressive display of flexibility, leaned forwards as she pulled them down, her hips never wavering, her legs completely straight. She fell to her knees, situating them on either side of his neck. She sat on his stomach, causing a musky liquid to collect. She leaned down until her nose was to his.

“How good are you with your mouth?” she asked breathily. Patchwork’s eyes opened wide and looked to hers, not quite believing what he was hearing.

“Uh…”

Rarity rolled her eyes and poked the tip of his nose with her tongue.

“Have you ever gone down on a girl?” she reiterated. Patchwork’s face flushed and he looked away from her, but then a strong scent entered his nostrils. He sniffed. Once. Twice. Savoring its sweetness, trying to place the scent. He looked back into her eyes as he determined it.

Strawberries.

Her smile grew, and her eyes narrowed.

“Now…” she drew out, slowly moving her body further up his own. “I’ve been awfully stressed as of late, and I could use a little something to…take the edge off.”

Patchwork looked up, trying to maintain eye contact with her, not daring to look down.

“…I t-think I saw a merlot in the fridge earlier.”

She suddenly lowered her hips, and Patchwork felt something wet grind against his chest. The sweet scent pervaded his nose, causing him to inhale deeply. He shuddered as Rarity stroked his hair, pulling it through her lithe fingers.

“Lick.” Rarity breathed.

“Rarity, this really isn’t appropri-“Rarity moved up his body, dragging her flower against him, leaving a shallow wet trail. Patchwork felt the sticky liquid coat his chest, the base of his neck, and finally his chin. The scent was overpowering now, causing him to feel a lightness in his head.

Patchwork’s eyes glued to Rarity’s flat stomach, refusing to glance down.

“Rarity, I can’t do this,” Patchwork finally said, shutting his eyes. “You need to get off of me, put your clothes back on, and forget this ever happened. I’m sorry, b-but this is just too much.”

“You could have pushed me off when you were kissing me,” Rarity reminded him, straightening up and balancing herself on her knees. “Or when you played with my chest…” she slowly began to lower herself. “Or when I was taking my leggings off…”

Patchwork’s eyes were closed shut at this point, the scent overflowing his senses to the point where thinking straight was a tiring affair.

“I just…I-I…”

“If you just open your eyes,” Rarity began, “I’ll leave the room.”

Patchwork shook all over, nervous and uncomfortable.

“…Promise?” he ventured. He felt a single hand grip the back of his head and gently pull it upwards.

“Promise.”

Patchwork’s eyes fluttered open, and as soon as it was in sight his vision focused solely on it.

Rarity’s pink, swollen lips sat between her long, pale, slender thighs. It was perfect in every way imaginable; perfectly shaven, perfectly sized, perfectly wet.

In a word: intoxicating.

Patchwork took in a deep breath in an attempt to get his head on straight, but that was a grave error on his part. Rarity’s sweet scent entered him, enraptured him, and didn’t let go. He’d never done anything like this before, but…suddenly, he was warming up to the idea.

He leaned up, ready to give Rarity the attention that she demanded, as well as so richly deserved, when she suddenly climbed off of him and bed.

“Well, I’ll be off then,” Rarity said casually, putting her clothes back on, taking particularly long time to pull up her leggings.

“W-What?” Patchwork asked, surprised. “Why?” Rarity looked up at the young man and tilted her head, her eyes big and innocent.

“I believe it was you who made me promise to leave the room once you opened your eyes,” Rarity reminded him, toying with him. “As you can clearly see, they have opened, and I shall be taking my leave.”

“But…but…” he trailed off, his nose twitching. The scent of her sex had set a flame deep inside of him, and it was just growing stronger and brighter. Rational thought began to funnel out his head, taking all of his insecurity and shyness with it, and was replaced by a single solitary sensation.

Lust.

Unimaginably powerful, madness driving, insatiable lust.

“And I had felt so stressed, too.” Rarity sighed as she slowly headed for the door, feigning disappointment. “If only I had been able to blow off some steam…oh well…”

Patchwork jumped off the bed, crossed the room, and grabbed Rarity by the wrist.

“Whatever are you-“Rarity began to protest, but paused as she looked into his face. He looked furious, demanding…

…Alluring.

“You want to blow off some steam?” the man asked heatedly. “How’s this for blowing off steam?”

And with that, he grabbed the back of her head, pulled her face into his, and forcibly shoved his tongue into her mouth. Rarity’s eyes widened for a moment before closing in pleasure, her mouth working against his. Their tongues twisted and writhed and wrestled, their lips mashing against one another in blind ecstasy.

Patchwork slipped his hand under her shirt and made a grab for her right breast, gripping it roughly.

Rarity groaned into his mouth at the unexpected pressure being exerted on her chest, but the groans of protest soon became moans of approval as he violently groped her. After a minute of his ministrations, he pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily. They looked into each others eyes for a moment until Rarity broke the silence.

“Are you quite finished?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and sounding quite unimpressed.

“…Excuse me?”

“I asked, ‘is the little girl done with her middle school malarkey?’” Rarity said, her lips curling

into a cruel smile.

Patchwork’s eye twitched.

“That’s it!” he yelled. Bending down, he wrapped his arms around Rarity’s thighs, then stood, carrying her over his shoulder.

“Oh, I think I made her mad,” Rarity said, failing to stifle a giggle. Patchwork growled and turned around, marching up to the bed. Once there, he threw Rarity onto it, none too gently. Rarity backed up as Patchwork climbed onto the bed and crawled after her. Eventually her back pressed against a pillow adorning the headboard, and she looked towards the man eagerly.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Rarity asked mockingly, spreading her legs open. “An invitation?”

Patchwork answered by grabbing the fabric of her leggings that rested on her crotch and pulled in opposite directions, tearing a hole big enough to clearly view her beautiful vulva.

“Hey!” she protested. “That was designer!”

Patchwork slammed a hand over her mouth, cutting off any further complaints.

“You told me to lick,” he said angrily. “So shut the hell up, and let me work.” Rarity slowly nodded, and he removed his hand. On his knees before her, he wrapped his arms around her legs, pulled her forwards, and leaned his head towards his prize. He licked his lips as he leaned in, but suddenly a bit of rationality and coherent thought entered his head.

He’d never done this before. What the hell was he supposed to do?

He supposed that he would just try whatever, then adjust based on her reaction accordingly.

He wanted her to enjoy this, if only to spite her.

Patchwork pointed his tongue out and gave her clitoris an experimental lick. Rarity squirmed a bit, but otherwise, no reaction. He then poked a few more times with the tip of his tongue, trying various speeds, but upon looking up and seeing Rarity’s expression, he stopped.

Alright, so no pointed licks. What about…

He laid his tongue flat out against his lower lip, then dragged it along her sex, covering the entirety of her vulva. Rarity let out a high pitched coo, encouraging him to continue, making broad strokes with his tongue. The flavor was heavenly, the texture divine.

He made slow, wide, lingering licks along her button, causing her to curl her toes and squirm on the bedspread. He leaned forwards a bit farther and grazed it with his teeth. Rarity sucked in her breath, losing control of her body as every moment passed, approaching closer and closer to arrival.

His long, broad strokes went on for minutes, his hands lightly massaging her still-clothed thighs. Never once did his tongue tire, never once did he falter. The taste drove him forwards, the sweet nectar acting as a powerful incentive for his service.

Eventually becoming a bit more adventurous, he pushed the first two fingers of his right hand into her underhanded, then curled his fingers and pulled back and forth. Rarity, losing herself to the ecstasy, leaned forwards and grabbed the back of his head, then pulled it into her sex.

Patchwork’s yelp of surprise was muffled by her flower, and the vibrations, along with the work of his fingers, made her moan louder than ever.

Realizing she was close, he quickly maneuvered his tongue behind her urethra, directly on top of her g-spot, and stroked it vigorously. His fingers went into overtime, pulling in and out faster and faster, his tongue work becoming rougher and sloppier, until finally…

“I’m…I’m…Oh, Celestia!” she screamed out, wrapping her thighs around his head and trapping him. She finally arrived, a sweet smelling liquid propelling itself from her and coating Patchwork’s face. He drunkenly lapped up as much of it as he could, savoring its fruity flavor.

Eventually, her orgasm subsided, and her legs went limp. Patchwork freed himself from her slender thighs and looked up at her.

Rarity’s eyes were lidded, her face was red, she was breathing heavily, and her tongue was laying outside of her mouth. Patchwork dragged an index along her vulva, causing her to shudder, then placed it on her tongue. She leaned her head forwards a bit, closing her mouth around his finger and sucking on it lightly, rolling her tongue around it before pulling away, a contented sigh escaping her.

“How’s that for blowing off steam?” Patchwork asked cockily.

“…Eh,” she said indifferently, her tone completely contrasting with her hot and bothered state.

Patchwork’s bravado and cockiness immediately melted away and turned to anger and frustration.

“Eh?!” He repeated loudly, straightening up and sitting on his knees.

“I’ve…had worse?” she decided noncommittally, barely keeping uproarious, and rather unladylike, laughter back as she noted his look of fury.

“Why you…you…you know what, screw it,” he said finally.

“Pardon?” she asked, sitting up. “I thought we were done here.”

“I’m…lift your arms, would you?” Patchwork asked, grabbing the bottom of Rarity’s shirt. She complied, knowing exactly where he was going with this. It didn’t stop her from feigning ignorance, though. He pulled it off and it joined his own shirt on the ground. He ignored her freed breasts and moved on to her leggings.

“I’m going to have sex with you,” he stated begrudgingly as he pulled them off, tossing the ruined piece of clothing along with the rest.

“Oh, will you now?” Rarity asked, crossing her legs. “And what if I don’t want to?”

Patchwork paused, then looked at her with a confused expression.

“I  thought that was what all this was about,” he said, gesturing to her and the bed.

“Nooo…” Rarity drew out, reaching to the bedside table and grabbing both a pair of reading glasses and a small book. “This was about my desire to de-stress. You did nothing a simple trip to the spa couldn’t.” She grinned at him evilly as she donned her glasses. “Well…at least you were cheaper.”

Patchwork stared at her, his mouth agape. Never before had he felt such a combination of anger, humiliation, and helplessness.

“The hell did you just say to me?” he asked heatedly.

“I said that you were cheap,” Rarity repeated, not even bothering to look up from her book. “Now get into bed, go to sleep, and never speak of this again.

“And what if I do tell somebody? Huh?” Patchwork asked, bluffing for all he was worth.

“You’ll be out of a job sooner than you can say ‘plaything’.” Rarity threatened conversationally, leaning back against her pillow. “Get in the bed.”

“You want me to sleep next to you?” Patchwork asked, baffled. “After everything we did? After everything you just said?”

Rarity looked up from her book and smiled at him.

“I get cold,” she said tauntingly. “Get in the bed, or you’re sleeping out on the road, out of a job.”

Patchwork weighed his options. Given the current state of Equestrian as far as unemployment rates went, he had two. One: Leave with his dignity intact, no money, no experience, and try his hand at finding a single drop in the dried up puddle of the job market.

Or two…

“I’m waaiiiitiinng!” Rarity sang out.

Patchwork dragged his hand down his face and growled. Like he really had a choice, anyway. He crossed over to the opposite side of the bed and pulled the covers up.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Rarity said. “I want you in the bed. I didn’t say anything about clothes.”

Patchwork dropped the cover and glared at her.

“You’re telling me to strip now?” he asked, hands on his hips. Rarity smiled pleasantly and narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, dear. You’re even stupider than I had initially thought. Yes, I’m telling you to ‘strip’, as you so eloquently put it. Go all natural. Disrobe. Get. Naked.”

“This is sexual harassment!” Patchwork protested loudly.

“Why, yes it is,” Rarity pondered. “How observant of you. Now hush up and take your clothes off.”

“…Fine,” Patchwork grumbled, grabbing the bottom of his shirt roughly and lifting it up.

“No no no, stop,” Rarity ordered.

“What now?!” Patchwork yelled, letting go of his shirt.

“Give me a moment,” Rarity requested. Taking as much care and time as possible, she took off her glasses, placed them on the bedside table, placed her book along with it, then laid out on the bed on her side, facing Patchwork.

“Now,” Rarity finally said, waving her hand. “Disrobe.”

Once again, Patchwork began to pull off his shirt, but Rarity interrupted him once again.

“Slowly…”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Patchwork shouted, letting go of his shirt once again. By the time it no longer obstructed his view, Rarity was right in front of him, on her knees, with her hand reached back.

Patchwork felt a hand that he had once viewed as delicate and cute deliver a vicious backhand to his cheek, four immaculately painted nails leaving four long, shallow cuts. He immediately flinched to the side, crying out in pain and surprise. Rarity grabbed his jaw with her other hand, holding it firm in front of her.

“Look at me…” she ordered quietly. He pulled away from her hand, but her grasp was like iron.

“Look at me!” she shouted shrilly, causing him to pause. His eyes met her, and it was then that he knew fear. Her beautiful royal blue eyes had suddenly taken on a look of fury; one that he would not soon forget.

“I will not allow profanity under this roof,” she informed, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes moved to his cheek, and the fire behind them dwindled.

“Oh, look what you made me do…” she said remorsefully, a hand stroking his injured face while her other held him firm. “I do hope my hand is never forced again…it’s a shame to see such a wonderful face like this being punished…but then again, how else can you keep a pet in line?”

Patchwork just stared at her, frozen in fear. She looked up at him, looking genuinely sorry. Somehow, that just made him fear her more.

“Can you ever forgive me?” she asked sweetly, her eyes watery and her lip quivering.

“I-I…I…” Patchwork said, disoriented and afraid. She began to idly drag a nail down the side of his neck, leaving a small line of blood.

“I would be ever so grateful if you did,” Rarity promised, then, with her expression consistent, began to dig her nail into his neck as she dragged it down, slicing a thin, jagged cut into it.

“I-I forgive you, I forgive you!” Patchwork yelled out in a panic. The pressure on his neck decreased and Rarity pulled the offending hand away, still holding his head firm with the other. She smiled widely, her eyes sparkling.

“Really? You truly forgive me?” she asked hopefully. Patchwork nodded fervently.

“Y-Yes, I forgive you, I swear.” Rarity’s smile decreased.

“…But how do we prove that?” she asked herself quietly. She let go of his face, then wiped the blood that had accumulated on her hand onto her chest. She suddenly lit up and shot him a full smile.

“Oh, here’s a thought!” Rarity said brightly. She leaned forwards until her face was but an inch from his. He didn’t dare move away.

“Kiss me…” she breathed.

He hesitated. He would have been happy to kiss the beautiful woman before him not ten minutes ago, but now…now…

“Why aren’t you kissing me?” Rarity whined, stroking his hair. “I thought you said you forgave me...”

Patchwork gulped, seeing no way out of this situation. Shutting his eyes, he leaned forwards and gave her a quick peck on the lips. When he pulled back and opened his eyes, she was pouting at him.

“I said to kiss me,” she repeated. “Not whatever that was. Unless, of course…you really

haven’t forgiven me…” Her grip tightened on the back of his head.

“I-I have, I just-“Patchwork said before she pulled him forwards until they were nose to nose.

“Then. Kiss. Me,” she ordered, a threat looming in her voice. Patchwork glanced from her piercing eyes to her lips, shivering. Finally, he took the plunge, hesitantly pressing his lips into hers.

Her tongue was immediately in his mouth, using the same sexy and seductive techniques as before…yet they didn’t feel right to him anymore.

To avoid invoking her anger again, he played with her tongue with his own, wrestling with it, resisting the powerful urge to bite down on it. She put her hands around his back, pulling him in deeper. She moaned into his mouth, making him feel a strange mixture of pleasure and disgust; the latter being both directed towards her and towards himself.

Just when Patchwork was about to pull back to breathe, Rarity grabbed the back of his head with both hands and pulled, forcing their faces together. Patchwork's eyes widened as a breath caught in his throat, and be began to choke. Undeterred, Rarity continued to viciously kiss him, either unaware of the situation or simply uncaring. Patchwork put his hands on her shoulders, trying to push Rarity off, but she just threw her arms around his neck and pressed her body roughly to his. Her tongue was still working against his, even as his muffled screams entered her mouth. Just as the edges of his vision began to darken, Rarity pulled away from the kiss.

Patchwork immediately fell forwards, his head landing over her shoulder, and began gasping and coughing profusely. Rarity kept her arms wrapped around him, rubbing his back as he tried to refill his lungs.

“Shhh, shhhh…” Rarity said soothingly as she felt tears wet her shoulder. “It’s okay…it’s okay…”

Eventually, his coughing fit subsided, and he stood there shuddering in Rarity’s arms, pressed against her naked form.

“Now…let’s get those pesky clothes off, and get to bed.” Rarity whispered to him.

“O-Okay,” he choked out, wiping at his eyes. Rarity lightly pushed away from him, back to her side of the bed, and laid down on her side.

“Now…” she said, twirling a lock of her purple hair in her fingers.

“Where were we?”