Lineage

I remained snuggled against Cadance for a long while. The amount of time that went by wasn’t measured, the two of us happily drifting in and out of slumber in each other’s embrace before I was rudely awoken by Grael giving me a mental kick.

“What?” I growled angrily.

“If you’re finished up, switch back,” Grael ordered. “There’s apparently someone looking for you by the name of Annerose and you need to meet her in town in an hour.”

“But I didn’t even ask Mom about the demon stuff…” I protested.

“That’s your fault and your problem,” Grael said. “I’m done here anyway.”

“Fine, just lemme say goodbye,” I nodded, licking my mother’s ear to wake her up.

“Wuzrong?” she asked in a tired manner.

“I have to go back now,” I answered, nuzzling her quickly before giving her another lick. “I’ll hurry home.”

“You fucking better,” she nodded, giving me a kiss on the nose. “You’ve got even more kids to look after now.”

“Alright,” I chuckled, lying back down so Grael had a comfortable position to jump back into. “I’ll be back soon. I love you.”

“I love you too, my beautiful little inbreeder,” she yawned.

“Hey, we’re not related like this,” I shrugged.

“Excused,” she said, snuggling into my body and burying her face in my fur. Giving her a pat on the back with my paw, I closed my eyes and switched places with Grael, retaking control of my own body…

Or at least I thought I did.

Without opening my eyes, I could tell I was still in a bed, still lying next to a naked woman, and still experiencing post sex glow.

“Welcome back,” I heard Luna chuckle. “Did you have fun? I know I did.”

I opened my eyes to see my messy-haired, cum-splattered Aunt resting against the headboard with a glass of brandy in her hand. She wiped a small load of cum from her muscular stomach and licked it off her finger before chasing it with a sip of brandy, sighing in relief afterwards.

“Of all the things I expected him to do…” I said, pushing myself up and sitting with my legs crossed. “This was not one of them. I’m surprised you agreed to let him fuck you.”

“Hey, it was a mutual engagement,” Luna shrugged. “Your looks, your cock, but with Grael’s voice and personality could be my dream man. It’s a shame he has to switch back to a whiny little twat like you, but hey, enjoy the moment, am I right?”

“I’m willing to guess you’re nicer to him than you are to me?” I asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“Good to see those detective skills I trained you to have didn’t go to waste,” she smiled.

“You’re a little drunk, aren’t you?” I asked.

“We both are,” Luna nodded. “Grael and I had dinner, danced on the balcony, had a little casual drinking session before retiring to bed for the night.”

“Are you serious?” I asked. “I would’ve thought your idea of a romantic date was ajoined effort slaughtering of a village.”

“Only on Wednesdays, honey,” Luna winked. “No, he was lucky enough to get civilised Luna. And I was lucky to get suave Grael. He’s quite the charmer, you know? Much better than your attitude of ‘Ey, beby, want sum fuk?”

“It works,” I said.

“On whores,” she responded.

“It worked on you,” I pointed out.

“I’ve only fucked you because I’m not in the mood to get raped by a twenty-five inch wolf dick,” Luna replied, swilling her alcohol in her glass as she stared into the dark liquid. “I usually wait for my birthday before that happens.”

“Right, I’m gonna go meet Annerose,” I said, standing up out of the bed and looking around for my clothing.

“Whenever you’re in the mood, please let Grael take over your body again,” Luna said. “I believe I’ve become quite infatuated with the young canine.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I nodded, pulling on my discarded clothes, noticing a dark blue lipstick print of a kiss on the collar. “You two got all dressed up?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “He promised me the best time he could think of and he delivered in spades. You could learn a thing or two from him about treating a woman.”

“You’re probably right,” I nodded, fastening my belt. “I wanna do something nice for Svea when I get back. There’s a nice pasta restaurant down by the canal in Canterlot, right? Verucci’s or something? I might take her there.”

“I’m sorry, did we get the right Richter back?” Luna asked. “The only fine dining you’ve ever treated a woman to is applying whipped cream to your cock.”

“I thought you liked it when I did that?” I asked her, looking over my shoulder.

“I do, but it’s still out of character for you to even consider a meeting with a woman whilst wearing clothing,” Luna nodded, refilling her glass from a bottle on the bedside table. “Did something happen to you while you were gone?”

“Besides getting Mom pregnant, not much,” I shrugged, staring at myself in the long mirror and realising I didn’t like the outfit I was wearing. Woolen trousers, a cotton shirt, cumberband, and a greatcoat was not my usual wardrobe.

“Where did he even get this stuff?” I asked, stripping down again.

“We were able to get it cheap from a seamstress in the city,” Luna answered. “Grael was very charming with her, as well. Not in the way you do it though. He did it the way a man does when he wants to be polite, not when he wants his cock polishing.”

“Are you about done with the insults yet?” I asked.

“No, not yet,” she smirked. “Richter, my boy, in the time I’ve spent with Grael I’ve acquired the ability to miss him rather sorely once he’s gone. Now that I have to contend with the original inhabitant of your body I miss my lover most dearly.”

“I think you should put the rest of that brandy down,” I said, noting her impeccable speech pattern.

“I agree,” she nodded, necking the rest of her glass and setting the bottle down. “I find this mixture tends to mess with my mentality in ways I’m not quite fond of. Though it does seem an odd side effect for a liquid designed specifically for the purposes of inebriation should posses such a backwards quality as enhancing my speech to such a degree, do you not?”

“Go to bed, Luna,” I chuckled. “I’ll see you when I get back from… fuck, where am I going again?”

“Casa de la Annerose,” Luna answered. “She lives in the renovated winery just past Pickmore Street. The place where Butcher Markus used to live before his shop was torched. It’s a big building made from red brick, you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you, Madam Nightingale,” I said, leaving Luna’s room in my underwear and allowing her time to calm down.

“Do call again,” she said, lying down in a drunken manner. “I shall look ever forward to our next encounter, or more specifically, my next encounter with that luscious wolf companion of yours.”

I closed the door quietly, allowing Luna to sleep off her politician’s guise as I made my way to my bedroom, suiting up in double-layered woolen trousers, a cotton shirt, and pulled on the brown, hooded coat I’d adopted several years ago, and a pair of leather bracers with fingerless gloves. I sheathed a sword over my back, put on both of my wrist blades, and finished off with a pair of worn-yet-strong leather boots.

Now dressed for the occasion, I left the tower, not noticing Alexander being anywhere nearby and guessing he hadn’t left the war room all day, and departed to where I was supposed to meet Annerose. I made my way over in my usual methods, dropping down in front of the doorway with a break roll and stopping just short of it. I stood up, knocked on the door, and waited for a response. Several seconds passed by before the door swung open, revealing a sight that gained an appreciative whistle from myself.

“Honeywow,” I commented as I beheld the sight before me.

Annerose had indeed dressed in what I assumed was her ‘uniform’, ditching the scrappy coat and torn woolen pants, replacing them with knee-high leather boots, tight-fitting, fine-weave cotton trousers, a snow-white, frilly shirt underneath a buttoned-up-to-below-the-breast cotton coat with a hood. The blue-trimmed coat helped map her slender form nicely, the frilled shirt adding a sense of elegence to the beautiful young woman, her raven hair washed and combed in a manner I’d never seen her wear, with the glossy fringe hanging over one eye and swinging around her face.

She was wearing make-up for the first time, her lips coated in a fine blue that matched the beauty of her eyes, delicately applied eye-shadow, and a hint of blue blush gave her an appearance that most women would kill for. She flushed red in embarrassment at the wolf-whistle, joining her hands in front of her, the tight coat flaring out into large, cone-like cuffs that stretched down to the first knuckle.

“S-Shut up,” she squirmed awkwardly. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked in disbelief. “You look beautiful, Annerose. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were going to get married, not do… whatever it is you brought me here for.”

“Well I’m not,” she insisted, breaking eye contact with me and puffing out her cheeks in an angry manner that made my heart melt. “I’m supposed to be meeting my teacher, Miss Claire. I brought you along because I thought it would be good for you to meet a nicer teacher than Luna for once-”

“You thought right-”

“-And I’d hoped you’d dress accordingly, like I asked Luna to tell you to,” she said, crossing her arms and cocking an eyebrow angrily. “And here you are, dressed like the son of a fucking goat herder.”

“Hey, my father’s goats were the pride of his life,” I said, pointing a finger at her. “That man’s last words were to give this coat to his son to take on the proud life he once lead.”

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

“Goat herding is no laughing matter, Annerose.”

“Why did I ask you to come here?” she asked herself, growling into her hands.

“Don’t do that, you’ll smudge your make-up,” I said, brushing her hands away from her face and getting her to look at me. I stared at her lips, eyes, and cheeks to make sure that everything was as perfect as it had been before, only noticing that Annerose had gone redder than ever from the intense staring I was giving her as well as having placed a finger under her chin to make her look at me.

“Sorry,” I chuckled, realising what I’d done. “I should save that for the honeymoon.”

“Fuck off,” she growled. “Look, do you think you can at least make yourself somewhat presentable? Maybe go somewhere and trim off the fucking rat tail on the back of your head before she-”

“Annerose?” a female voice asked.

“Ah!” the woman responded, shoving me sideways and smiling widely. “Miss Claire! It’s so good to see you.”

“You too, young lady,” the woman said in a happy tone. Getting a look at her, it was clear to see that she and Annerose belonged to the same school of both training, fashion, and hairstyles. Either that, or Annerose has a little bit of admiration for her teacher. ‘Miss Claire’ herself was a woman who appeared to be close to forty, with now-white hair, eyes, and skin. She wore her hair in the same way Annerose had tonight and was dressed in a similar, if more elegant and frilly, version of the same outfit, like a head of a squad and their inferiors. She leaned on a silver-topped cane that clacked on the ground as she drummed it off the stone floor.

The two greeted each other with kind hugs, seemingly ignoring me for a while as they conversed, something I wasn’t angry about. I overheard mentions of locations, fun events, school days, and training regimes, the two seemingly truly happy to see one another. I was quiet, surveying the scene around us to distract myself and not eavesdrop before I spotted something I didn’t like.

A while down the street was a group of men pushing and shoving around a young woman of darker skin, judging from her dress being one of Khalifa’s girls. Enemies or not, I wasn’t the man that liked the sight of innocent people being hurt, so after muttering a quick excuse to Annerose and Miss Claire, I walked down the street towards the men, shoving, pushing, and spitting on the girl. As I drew closer to them, I barked out a word to get their attention on me and off the poor girl.

“Hey!”

They turned around, one clutching a small blade and now allowing me to spot the girl clutching at her stomach, blood seeping from behind her hand.

“Fuck off, cunt,” one of them growled. “This ain’t got shit to do with-”

He was cut off by a vicious elbow to the face, sending him flying to the ground and into the mud, the one with the knife pointing it at me.

“Get off her,” I demanded.

“Back the fuck off or I swear I’ll-”

He too was silence by a boot to the throat that slammed his head against the wall, the blade being flung across the street and into a pile of snow. I planted my boot firmly on the ground as the third man and the first man got up, both of them now having drawn swords and were ready to attack.

“Trust me when I say this boys, I can do a lot more damage in a lot less time than you can,” I growled, eyeing them both. “So you, all of you, can drop your weapons, apologise to the girl, and leave without anything happening to you. But if you don’t accept my gracious invitation, I promise you you’re not gonna live long enough to regret it.”

There was a moment of silence between all of us, the third man trembling in fear as he stared at me, his eyes darting over to his friend before back to me.

“Y-You serious?” he asked.

“Shut it, Terry!” the first man demanded. “We can take him!”

“Yeah… but the fuckers who kick arse are the ones that usually say shit like that,” the third said. “Nobody ever takes their offer and they always fucking die.”

“And he’s prob’ly one of them twats that pretends to be like that!” the first snarled, gripping his sword tighter. “We can fucking gut him, easy!”

“And what if he is?” the third asked. “I ain’t fucking dying over a fucking warning to this slut!”

“Then apologise like I know you’re going to,” I repeated, getting an angry scoff from the first man. “And leave.”

There was another long stretch of silence, the first man eyeing the third furiously as he seemed to be seriously mulling the offer over. It ticked past eight seconds before he made his decision, tossing his sword aside, turning to the woman with the slash on her stomach, and mumbled an apology before bolting off.

“Terry, you piece of shit coward!” the first bellowed. “I swear I’ll tell McGraw about this, you fucking fanny!”

“Now that-” I growled, disarming him with a twist of his wrist and kneeing the wind out of him, causing him to drop to his knees. “Is something I’m interested in. I’m gonna give you a little job, okay? I want you to run back to your prick of a boss and tell him that I’m coming for him. Think you can manage that?”

“Get fucked!” he spat.

“Wrong answer,” I snarled, wrenching his arm and snapping it at the elbow, getting a roar of agony from the man on his knees. “You either nod along and take your broken arm as evidence, or I kill you now, and carve my fucking message into your stomach and leave your corpse on his doorstep. Are we clear?”

“I… I…” he sputted, prompting me to violently dislocate the rest of his arm and getting another scream of pain.

“Yes or no!” I bellowed, using a harsh growl in my voice with a mix of my hood-covered face to terrify him as much as possible. “You’re either going home in a cast or a body bag. Your choice!”

“Alright, alright!” he screamed, tears streaming from his face. “I’ll tell him, I’ll tell him!”

“Good choice,” I snarled, picking him up by the collar and throwing him down the street. “And don’t ever let me see you again or else I’ll string you up like a skinned rabbit, you hear me!?”

He didn’t respond, but his terrified wails carried over all the confirmation I needed. I ignored the unconscious man on the floor as I turned to the prostitute, getting a glimpse at the wound and seeing that it wouldn’t be fatal.

“Are you alright?” I asked, throwing my hood down and using my normal, less monster-like voice.

“Y-Yeah… I’m okay,” she nodded, fighting off tears. “T-Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said in a comforting tone. “Do you want me to walk you back to one of the brothels?”

“I… I would, yeah,” she nodded. “I’m not supposed to be here anyway.”

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“This is McGraw’s territory, he doesn’t let us work here,” she answered. “I got lost a while back and wandered here, then those guys, they… they…”

“Don’t worry,” I said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re safe now.”

I turned back to where Annerose and Miss Claire were standing, both having watched the encounter go down and hollering at them that I’d be back soon. Annerose responded with a thumbs up before Miss Claire asked her something I couldn’t hear, even with my hearing mutation.

I made a gesture for the young woman to walk with me, deciding to take her to the nearest, and conveniently, the main, brothel that Khalifa ran: The Sands of Time. It was a brothel designed to display the culture of her home land, very different from the icy tundra Falketurm existed in. The two of us made it there in a few minutes, both being allowed in once the prostitute told the bouncers what had happened.

Once inside, we were met with a warm, sweet-scented, Arabian paradise, the likes of which I’d only read about in stories and history books as a child. The women in the building were dressed as belly dancers, faces partially obscured with veils while revealing their beautiful eyes, their toned, olive-skinned bodies moving and shaking in a manner that made the men, many of which were overweight and balding, drool and stare intently. I was cat-called many times by the fine-voiced women, these being the cream of Khalifa’s crop due to this being her main business building and her place of residence.

And speaking of the Bitch herself, she sat atop an Arabian throne, happily tonguing and toying with the girls she adorned herself with, each beautiful in their own right, but none could compare to the jewel of the desert that sat the golden throne.

“Ma’am,” one of the bouncers that had followed us in said, getting Khalifa’s attention and getting her to remove her tongue from the mouth of one of her dancers. “This ‘ere’s a lad that saved Little Vinya from a couple of McGraw’s bastards.”

Khalifa recognised me immediately, standing up from her throne with her staff in hand, cocking her head and grinning at me with her gorgeous smile.

“Well, well. We meet again, my friend,” she said to me before turning her surprisingly-concerned eyes to Vinya. “Vinya, dear. Go upstairs and have your injuries seen to. You can have the next few weeks to rest and recover. Come to me if it scars. I’ll clear them up, okay?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Vinya nodded, taking off as quick as her wound would allow her and heading up a staircase. Once she had disappeared, Khalifa turned to me with a glint in her eyes.

“And you… what do you hope to gain from this?” she asked, drumming her fingers on her staff. “You know full well the two of us are enemies… for the moment, at least.”

“I don’t hope to gain anything from it. I saw someone in trouble and decided to help them, that’s all it was,” I answered in a cold tone. “And what do you mean ‘For the moment’?”

“I mean that, should you be willing to get on your knees and kiss several of my areas, I’ll be willing to forgive you for siding against me and allow you to work for me instead,” she said in a purring tone. “I think I have more to offer you than boring old Alexander, at least.”

“Not going to happen, Khalifa,” I said defiantly. “You can try and bribe me as much as you want. But I’ve made up my mind on this. I’m taking you, and McGraw, down.”

I felt like I’d said something like that before. Might’ve been right before I broke every word in that promise and cumflated a mentally-underage catgirl because I’m a perverted piece of shit. Oh well, fool me once… or something.

“For a man so content to make enemies, it seems rather foolish for you to walk into the hornet’s nest you seem so content to kick,” Khalifa commented. “Does that not seem dangerous to you?”

“Not entirely,” I shrugged. “There’s not a man you own that can kill me, and we both know it.”

“True, but I can kill you very easily,” she said, summoning up a small ring of fire around my feet to accentuate her point. “And all it would take would be a snap of my fingers. But let’s be honest here: neither of us want to see you die. You’re too useful for that.”

“And I’m not a tool you’ll ever possess,” I said, standing my ground.

“Are you sure?” she asked, drumming on her collar bone. “Can an hour and a half with me in my chambers not convince you otherwise?”

“That’s quite a high price you’re willing to pay for my services,” I commented, cocking an eyebrow as I did so. “You’re offering yourself instead of your girls?”

“Because I know you’re worth all the gold I have, Richter,” she smirked. The use of my name when she shouldn’t have known it was not something I was okay with. Even as a royal, practically nobody knew me by face outside of Canterlot, barely anyone knew how it was spelt outside of the province, and everybody thought I was named after the prince outside of Equestria. And for Khalifa to have named me here showed that she was extremely knowledgable on foreign monarchs nobody cared about, or she’d done some digging since we’d last met.

“So I’ll ask you again,” she said, moving back up to her throne and taking a seat. “Are you willing to do a little, literal brownnosing to get into my goodbooks and finances… or will you die like a fool serving a larger fool.”

“Why not let me extend the same offer?” I asked her. “I’m sure I can convince Alexander to let you keep your businesses running if you agree to a little business deal? With the two of you working together, I’m sure you could control the entire city for as long as you wanted once McGraw was out of the way.”

“Richter, my dear, do you know how many times I’ve been approached by the other two asking that same question?” she asked me. “‘If we team up we’ll be unstoppable, all you have to do is share’. And I’ll tell you the same thing I told them: I. Don’t. Share.”

“Then what if I offer you something more than the others?” I asked, taking a gamble on whether or not I could follow up on this promise.

“What would that be?” she asked in a sighing tone.

“Control of the whore business outside of Falketurm,” I suggested.

Now she was listening.

“Go on,” she said after a moment.

“I believe that, with a helping hand from a woman who wants to make prostitution official, I can get you on the road to controlling whores across countries, instead of some shitty city state,” I said.

“And who might that woman be?” Khalifa asked.

“My mother, Princess Cadance,” I answered. “She’s been busy setting up her own brothel, attempting to make it its own franchise of sorts, and I think you’re just the woman she needs to really get started.”

“I don’t share,” she repeated.

“So because of your refusal to share income with a woman that would be more than willing to help you and your girls conquer the world, you’re going to turn down the chance?” I asked. “To restrict yourself to being the largest brothel owner in Falketurm instead of the world?”

She was silent for a long moment, but I could tell that she was mulling it over in her head.

“I’d even help you leave Falketurm, set up brothels all over the world and go from making thousands of crowns a day to being a billionaire brothel owner that could meet with kings and queens,” I said, trying to make it sound as grandiose as possible. “Become the queen of the ladies of the night all across the world, instead of squatting in this dump counting coppers.”

“And… you’re sure you can arrange this?” she asked, gently tonguing the hook as it bobbed for her.

“Cadance is my mother, and it would be no large matter to convince her to work with a woman that already has both inventory and clientele,” I nodded. “I could bring you to Canterlot, sit you both down, and have you as business partners by the end of the day. All you have to do is side with Alexander and I, and I promise that I’ll make you akin to royalty.”

I kept my eyes locked with hers, seeing her swill the idea around her mouth as she weighed up the possibilities of this new business venture against her own disposition for hating sharing, being silent for a long moment before coming to a decision.

“Alright then, Richter,” she nodded. “If you can provide me with signed, written proof of your mother’s willingness to help me conquer the world with whores within a week, I’ll offer my forces, my spies, and anything else you want to you and Alexander to help him take over this dump.”

“I’m glad we’ve reached an agreement, Khalifa,” I nodded.

“Come here and let us shake on it,” she said in a joking manner, holding out her hand. I rolled my eyes, walked over to her throne and shook her hand, only to be pulled into her embrace and kissed passionately, having her sweet, wet tongue lash over mine as she gently squeezed my cock through my pants. We broke away after a long moment, a spit trail still connecting us before she licked it away.

“You shake hands in a peculiar way,” I joked.

“You should see how I hug people,” she said, placing a hand on my cheek and kissing me again, the whole brothel staring intently with several people, both women and men, green with envy. “Now, go get that letter and be here within seven days, my dear.”

“Of course,” I nodded, breaking away and leaving her side. “I shall return as soon as possible.”

“I await your return eagerly,” she giggled, waving me goodbye.