Author's Note

Contains: Public masturbation, pole dancing, a scary shadow-monster, some mind-control.

Shadows

Rarity ran her hooves over the smooth, oily pole, her hips rolling and bucking to the pulsing soundtrack as she danced. Black stockings and suspenders wrapped her legs, a silk saddle with a see-through skirt decorated her trunk and rump, and her head was encircled by a lacy bridle. Her left forehoof was shackled to the base of the pole with a fabulous, gem-encrusted manacle, but in truth she felt no inclination to leave her spotlight. Her audience's focus was wholly on her; They devoured her curves and her movements, with their eyes and with their imaginations. What more could she ever ask for? She craved their attention; She needed their desire. Their lust filled a void inside her that nothing else could.

Desperate to eke out every last drop of their carnal hunger, her mind conjured a new performance for her. Planting her forehooves wide apart and lowering her head, until her right cheek pressed against the base of the pole, she lifted her right hindleg as high as she could. When it would rise no further, she shifted her hooves and gently pulled with her magic. Soon, she had raised her hoof right above her head, bringing it around to the left side of the pole. She rested her shoulder against the greasy metal, allowing it to take her weight as she relaxed into the full-split pose she had assumed.

Her skirt had slidden down. Her privates were covered by a white thong, tied to her dock with a bow, but that easily fell away when she pulled the ribbon with her magic, leaving her flower completely exposed. Rarity carefully lifted her right foreleg, sliding her hoof up along the pole, then down the length of her right hindleg. Even before she reached her goal, she felt a trickle of hot arousal running down her left hindleg, and soaking into her stocking. When her hoof brushed against her clit, her whole body shuddered in delight.

She began to rub herself. Pleasure blotted out her despair, buried her shame. She knew her days of fashion were gone, her chance to be somepony important now just a painful memory, but here, and now, she was wanted. The more her loins sang with delight, the easier it was to forget that these ponies saw her only as a pretty object, a fancy ornament.

She closed her eyes as an especially bright camera flash dazzled her. Her mind almost registered the sound of a thunderclap over the sensuous melodies surrounding her. Soon the thought slipped away though, as she lost herself to the grip of her rising orgasm.

Moments later, a hoof shook her by the shoulder. She squinted up at the mare standing beside her. She wondered why this beautiful, sexual creature would be on stage with her. Then she realised; This pony must want to perform with her. The audience would love it! Rarity wanted to reach out, to grab this beauty right away, but all her hooves were occupied, and her magic wasn't strong enough to lift a whole pony.

She tried to lean forward, tugging on her partner's flowing, ethereal mane with her magic. She stretched out her tongue, licking at the air between them. Why wasn't this pony moving? Why was she just standing there, out of reach, taunting Rarity with the chance to feel so much more that one hoof alone could bring her. Why was her mouth opening and closing like that? What was that supposed to—

“MISS RARITY!”

Rarity's world exploded, though mostly the parts inside her ears. There was a sense that was, in fact, completely different from being struck by a supersonic pillow, but that was the closest analogy her muddled mind could come up with. Not many ponies are ever physically assaulted with their own name.

When everything stopped ringing, she peered up at the only pony she knew to have ever weaponised The Royal Canterlot Voice. A lot of things she hadn't realised she was confused about were now making a lot more sense, though nothing quite explained how her right hoof had stayed firmly pressed to her snatch when the sound-wave had physically knocked her sprawling to the floor.

“P-princess Luna!” she exclaimed, forcing her soaking hoof away from her protesting loins and trying to right herself, somewhat poorly thanks to the manacle around her left wrist. “I didn't… what are… that is…” she glanced around at the shadowy audience, a cold realisation creeping upon her “Oh dear. Princess, was I… not… good enough?” She struggled not to choke on the words; Bad enough to be seen like this, but…

Luna gently kissed Rarity's forehead, and lifted her chin. “My dearest Rarity, you were more that I could ever have hoped. I know not how the Incubus endures, but please believe that it was no failing of yours.”

Luna turned her attention to the bejewelled manacle. “Let us focus on your freedom, first. Then we can solve this mystery. You are certain that you dreamt of no other last night?”

Something about the audience bothered Rarity, but she wasn't sure what. Pulling her attention from them, she began to answer the question. “No, I… Wait, all of last night, or just the… the sex dream? I mean, I remember another dream before that, but it wasn't erotic, I… I was just having tea with Fluttershy.”

Luna looked back at Rarity's concerned face. “'Tis unlikely, but in view of the circumstance, we should check on her, to be sure.” She turned back to the manacle once more. “It would be best if I could pick the lock; We don't want to draw attention of the figments.”

Rarity wasn't really listening. She was starting to figure out what was bothering her. In part, it was that the audience wasn't really a crowd of ponies, just a single, shadowy mass that somehow gave that impression. Perhaps it was the eyes that helped it give this impression. Then again, there was something not right about the eyes as well, and Rarity wondered how she had missed it until now.

They were all the exact same colour. Dozens, hundreds of the same, sickly green eyes were watching her, starting right at her, hungrily.

This wasn't such a turn-on anymore.

She also wasn't thrilled to realise that the music had stopped, or that the “audience” was slowly approaching the stage. She watched in rising horror as a single hoof, dripping oily blackness, rose from the shadows and onto her stage.

“PrincessIthinkwehavetheirattentioncanwepleaseleaverightNOW!”

Luna glanced up at the writhing mass slowly surrounding them. She pushed Rarity back, and the fashionista barely had time to look away before blinding light and a crack of thunder heralded a sudden feeling of release on her leg. When the light faded, she saw that the manacle was still in place, but the pole and the stage beneath it had been replace with a smoking, glowing, hole.

In a single move, Luna swept Rarity up onto her back, and took off, shooting straight up as a shadowy mass of limbs, eyes, and… teeth… closed around the space where they had been. Wind whipped Rarity's mane as they soared together towards a distant light. Rarity squeaked a tiny noise of relief, before a lashing tendril struck out from the shadows, flinging her from Luna's back and into the dark.

As Rarity fell backward, she could see Luna turn mid air to face her. Already, Rarity could hear nothing, but it looked like the princess was screaming something…