Lineage

“Look, lad,” the bartender said before Annerose got a chance to answer. “I can’t be leading you to the boss, alright? And she can’t the either.”

“Says who?” Annerose demanded, cocking an angry eyebrow. “I can do whatever the fuck I please. It’s a free city after all.”

“Not for long it ain’t,” he said with a cynical laugh. “The other two’ll be scrapping something fucking fierce over this city and Alexander’s gonna up to his neck in shite from businesses complaining about getting robbed in the ‘handover’ of power.”

“And that is exactly what I’m here to talk to him about,” I said, jabbing a finger onto the bar. “I think Mr Williams is the best thing this city has, and I’m more than interested in making sure he gets more than a third of this city for himself.”

“Aye… and how much d’you think he should be getting?” he asked with a wary expression.

“The whole thing,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’m here to help get rid of Khalifa and McGraw. Now I know you might not go running off to him with that message, but if he takes interest in that offer, come and find me at the old war tower. Just remember to knock before entering. Luna doesn’t like uninvited guests.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. “Will you be having anything else while you’re here?”

“No,” I said, necking the rest of the mead and getting off my stool. “I’ll be heading off for now.”

“Hang on then,” Annerose said, finishing her drink and following me. “Fun seems to follow you around, lad. I think it’d be in my best interest to do the same.”

“Fair enough,” I nodded. “I could use the company.”

“Right, where are we off to?” she asked me.

“Gonna go scout out a few locations to cause trouble for the other of the Big Three,” I answered. “Check the Majesty’s Head, first Khalifa’s smallest whorehouse. See if I can’t pilfer some of the coin from the upstairs safe.”

“How d’you know there’s a safe upstairs?” she asked with a sly expression. “You a man that fancies whores?”

“I feel the attraction is quite mutual, really,” I said, holding the door open for her as we exited the tavern. “Though I’m not stupid enough to fall for the ‘My favourite stripper actually loves me’ routine.”

“You’re a smarter man than most,” Annerose chuckled. “I’ve got a friend that works in the Majesty’s Head, waitress that serves the alcohol. Usually goes home with a soaked apron and handprints on her arse.”

“The patrons do tend to get rather rapey when drunk and horny,” I nodded. “It’s not a good trend.”

“Aye, but the bouncers usually throw em out, literally with their pants down,” Annerose said with a quiet laugh. “I remember this one dude got lobbed out the first floor window for trying his luck with a girl without paying. Tossed out the fucking window with his prick out and everything, straight into the fucking snow. Telling you, mate. Fucking priceless.”

“I can imagine,” I said, chuckling at the mental image. “I’ve never been a fan of whorehouses that don’t have on-site protection for the girls. Hear too many stories about a creepy guy renting three of them only to find them strung up by their labia in an alley three days later.”

“It’s not a safe life,” she said, the tone of her voice a sombre one.

“That’s the voice of someone who has experience with it?” I asked. “You work the field yourself? Or someone else you know?”

“Aunt Caroline,” she said, clearly running over a mental scar. “Looked young for her age, copper hair, good teeth, big tits. Rented out for a ‘Stag do’ at a mansion about five years back. They found her in an alley scalped, teeth pulled, and tits cut clean off. Worst part was she couldn’t even afford a burial patch on her wages. Uncle was dead, her daughter had run off with some Andalusion Merchant and had four kids in a villa… Mum had to fork out herself but we were broke as beans at the time, man… I’ll always remember the look on my mother’s face when we buried her little sister… fuck, man.”

“Sorry for bringing it up,” I said. “Did they ever catch the guy that did it?”

“They didn’t,” she growled. “I did.”

“How bad did you hurt him?” I asked, knowing where this story was going.

“Everything he did to her and worse,” she snarled, her fists clenching at her sides. “Scalped, teeth pulled, poked his eyes out, cut his hands and feet off, and then lopped his cock off with a cleaver… wanna know the best part though?”

“What?”

“I didn’t kill him,” she said with a sadistic smirk. “Took him to a healer, chucked a bag of coins from a contract I took a few days back, and he’s now spending all his time bedridden in a poorhouse, unable to do anything until the day he dies.”

“Sounds like good revenge,” I nodded. “Do you feel better about it?”

“I do,” she chuckled, cracking her knuckles. “A bit out of character for me, though.”

“You usually let the authorities handle things?”

“I usually kill them,” she shrugged.

“Fair enough,” I said. The conversation dropped down slightly as we made our way through the markets, seeing several of Khalifa’s lower-grade women propositioning the working men but ignoring the two of us.

“How come they didn’t talk to you?” Annerose asked, looking back at the prostitutes.

“Khalifa instills a sense of worth to her girls for each district,” I answered. “Puts her ugliest, like those, in the poor districts, and then puts her finest girls in their finest clothing in the living and business district. It comes from the old stereotype of poor people being ugly and settling for ugly women, whereas your nobles and your rich folk between nearly selectively bred between arranged marriages and perfect pairings to nearly breed out ugly genes. So you’ve got mingers with mingers, and beauties with beauties, because they all believe that’s what they deserve.”

“That’s… ridiculously fucking shallow,” Annerose spat in disgust.

“Rich people, remember?” I asked. “I consider myself lucky I didn’t end up like my Uncle.”

“Who was he?” she asked.

“He was a twat who had no talent for speaking, fighting, or tactics, so he instead made himself feel worthwhile by spending all of ‘Auntie Celestia’s’ money or whores and wine,” I explained. “He was a fucking disgrace and he knew it. Took himself off to another country and got snared by gold-diggers who bled him dry after about ten years.”

“Wait… Celestia?” Annerose asked, grabbing my arm and turning me around. “As in ‘Princess Celestia’? The main ruler of Equestria and one of the most powerful people on the planet?”

“I’m honestly surprised you didn’t mention her tits,” I nodded. “Most people do.”

“I mean, yeah her tits too, but fucking hell, man!” she exclaimed excitedly. “You’re related to Princess Celestia? You’re a prince?”

“Yup,” I nodded.

“Then what the fuck are you doing here?” she asked in confusion. “You should be out at balls in fancy castles, eating and drinking the finest food and drink, and knocking up beautiful Andalusian Princesses!”

“Nah, Calatera said she didn’t want a baby until she was married,” I shrugged. “And besides, I think she is married to some Reshephian prince now. Think she has a daughter, too.”

“That still doesn’t answer what you’re doing here,” Annerose said, focussing me back on the topic.

“I’m here for training,” I said bluntly. “I should’ve done it years ago, but my mother didn’t like the idea of me getting hurt.”

“Cadance, right?” Annerose squeed. “Oh my fucking gods, you’re so lucky to have her as a mother!”

“You have no idea,” I chuckled. “Couldn’t have asked for a more loving and compassionate mother.”

“Are they here with you?” she asked, going completing fangirl on me at this point. “Can we see them? What are they doing if they’re not here?”

“No, they’re not here, no because they’re not here, and I have no idea because I kinda wasn’t allowed to contact them during my training,” I answered. “Luna said she didn’t want me getting distracted by the outside world, so it was kinda me and training for half a decade.”

“... How have you not gone insane by now?” she asked in shock.

“Luna kept slapping that out of me,” I shrugged. “She’s a woman that makes everything else orbit around her and fuck you if you’re not in line.”

“So. Awesome.” Annerose said in a hushed voice.

“Can we get back to the whorehouse now?” I asked, pointing over my shoulder towards the business district.

“Right, yeah, sorry…” she nodded. The two of us walked in silence for roughly seven seconds before she blurted out another question.

“What’s Cadance like?”

“A very kind, soft-hearted, and loving person,” I answered. “If a little clingy at times. Though one random fact about her: she’s always dreamed of setting up a brothel.”

“She wants to run a whorehouse?” Annerose asked in confusion. “Why?”

“She’s always had a respect for prostitutes, always believing that a woman that confident in her body and confident enough to sell it like that needs recognition and respect,” I explained. “She’s always believed that prostitutes shouldn’t be disrespected and hated because of their job, as well as needing protection and security in their work. I agree with her.”

“So… do you know if she’s set one up yet?” Annerose asked.

“I don’t know, but she has told me what her plans for it were,” I shrugged. “She didn’t want a dingy, run-down, shack in the back of an alley full of dead bodies and drunken old men. She’s always wanted a high-class, multi-functional, establishment known for food, drink, music, and girls.”

“That’s very ambitious of her,” Annerose said in a surprised tone. “How’d she accomplish that?”

“She talked a lot about training the girls to do other things than fuck for money, like cooking, cleaning, business management, and the like. Basically preparing them for when they got too old to be doing this anymore and don’t end up homeless on the street,” I explained. “She also talked about making it something like a high-class theatre or opera house, where you have performances by bards and actors along with the whores, with good food and drink, protection for the girls, and a trusted clientele that wouldn’t harm or abuse the girls.”

“She’s trying to make brothels into respectable establishments, isn’t she?”

“Oh yeah,” I nodded. “It’s quite amazing if you think about it. I genuinely hope she succeeds in setting it up, just for her and the girls’ in Canterlot’s sake… and maybe because I’m sure she’d give me a family discount.”

“Charming,” she nodded.

“What? I like sex, I’m not ashamed of that,” I smirked, turning my head towards the brothel we were approaching. “Now, we’re not gonna bother running into the place, and instead we’re just gonna climb up, open a window, open the safe, and get the hell out, okay?”

“You know how to parkour?” she asked.

“Of course,” I nodded. “Panther School, what about you?”

“Puma,” she nodded, a smile lighting up on her face. “I’m so happy I’ve finally met someone as competent as a fighter as I am.”

“And very good at tooting your own horn,” I smirked.

“Hey, if you’ve got a massive cock, you need to suck it yourself every once in awhile,” she shrugged.

“I don’t,” I said, looking back at her.

“Yeah, six inches doesn’t really count as ‘massive’, Richter,” she smirked.

“No, but fourteen does,” I said, looking back at the brothel and scoping out the surrounding area a little. There was another long moment of silence between the two of us, it hanging in the air before being broken by a single, dry word.

“What?” she asked in an astounded tone.

“Yup,” I nodded, not even looking at her.

“How? Why? Are you making that up?” she demanded. “Humans aren’t supposed to have dicks that big. Did you steal it off a fucking horse?”

“Not human, Alicorn, remember?” I responded.

“Are all the men of your species that hung?” she asked. “You’re packing more wood than a fucking lumber mill, Richter.”

“You seem to be rather fixated on this fact,” I said, looking back at her with a cocked eyebrow. “Is it really worth that much wonderment?”

“Your cock’s the size of my forearm, Richter!” she snapped. “The biggest dick I’ve ever taken was five inches long.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Tell you what, if you’re up for it when we’re done here, I’ll let you entertain yourself with it.”

“What?”

“You seem to be completely enraptured by the concept of it, why not satisfy that curiosity?” I asked.

“Because… well, uh, I mean…” she rambled, having flushed redder than a tomato. “Would… would you even fit?”

“I dunno,” I answered. “How deep is your pussy?”

“Richter!” she exclaimed in horror and embarrassment. “That’s not a question you ask a woman casually.”

“I’ve asked much worse much easier,” I shrugged.

“I know I shouldn’t ask…” she said, gritting her teeth. “But… such as?”

“‘How long does it take for your asshole to stop gaping usually?’,” I recited.

“Fucking hell, man,” she said in a grossed-out manner.

“You still haven’t answered yes or no,” I said.

“I… well… I barely know you and… you might be too big…” she rambled.

“How tall are you?” I asked.

“Five-nine,” she answered.

“You’ll be fine,” I responded quickly. “So? For the sake of professional curiosity?”

“I don’t know…” she said with a shake of her head. “I don’t… I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of sleeping with someone I’ve only just met.”

“That’s completely fine, Annerose,” I said with a gentle smile. “I’m not gonna pressure you into it if you don’t want to.”

“Richter…”

“Yes?”

“Why do you offer sex in the same way people offer alcohol?”

“I’m very promiscuous.”

“I noticed… but…”

“But what?”

“Does anyone ever… react badly to it?”

“Not yet. I’ll have you know that a few years back I got a woman pregnant after knowing her for less than three hours.”

“... Are you real?”