Silky, Guilty Pleasures

Chapter 2: A Fine Mess

An Alternate Universe Detective Rarity Story

From the outside Silky Guilty Pleasures looked inviting, dark, but inviting. Slowly I made my way up to the steps, and I could see a stallion leaning against the building outside. His shirt was a fishnet number, something that was a little trashy, but it worked well with the club scene. I could sense something about him, something that made me take another look, and I realized what it was. He was a Lunar Pegasus, but he seemed too perfect. It was as if his entire body was too well formed, and I’d seen that kind of thing before.

I looked him over, taking in every single muscle in his form, but it was his wings that attracted me the most. Most vampires didn’t get leathery wings when they transformed. It just didn’t happen, but at the same time there was the fact that their wings lost some luster. A Solar Pegasus’ wings needed sunlight. It helped with certain aspects of their magic, and without it they began to look slightly drab. I’d seen several that had tried different things to enhance them. Some would wear little metal feathers that had to be woven into the feathers of one’s wings.

Doing so would bring a cascade of colors, and it would give the illusion of beauty. There were others thought that would use some of their newfound vampiric powers to put a simple glimmer over themselves. It would be something any unicorn could see through, if they were trying, but it was certainly enough to pull off passing as a normal Solar Pegasus at a glance. The vampire here though wasn’t a Solar Pegasus. He had been a Lunar Pegasus, and his fangs were even more pronounced than his solar cousins. I watched as they shortened, his slitted eyes watching me, taking in my curves, and I felt him undressing me in his mind.

I could tell he was guessing what I looked like under my coat, my dress, and my fedora. I continued walking, not wanting to garner more of his attention, but then almost as if it had happened in an instant he had moved from his leaning against the wall to standing in front of me. I could see the mossy green of his eyes, smell the coppery peppermint scent of his breath.

“Such a lovely mare as yourself surely needs an escort,” he said.

I shook my head, headed inside but at once was blocked again by the vampyre bouncer.

“Young miss,” the vampyre cooed, “as much as it pains me to see, such an attractive and graceful filly as yourself might find yourself- accosted by the regulars here. I am more than willing to offer my protection while patronize our establishment.”

“No thank,” I sang, “I am already well acquainted with this place and I have all the necessary precautions in case I manage to elicit any unwarranted attention. Now would you ever so kindly be a dear and let me pass? Pinkie Pie will be most upset if one her employees accosted her favorite guest.”

That caught the bouncer off guard and his face went from roguishly handsome to utter dumbfounded. When I pressed on, he offered no resistance. I stepped past him, through to the booth, paid my honorarium at the entrance kiosk and waltzed in. I could see the darkened room, lit mostly by black light and the strobing stage lights of Canterlot’s finest remixer, DJ-Pon3. Out on the main floor, bodies writhed in syncopated rhythm, marching to their personal oblivion to with drink, wubs, and the opposite sex. Six out of every ten ponies here were vampyre, it didn’t take my detective eyes to see that,

Faint blue eyes slowly radiated from the back, bouncing to a rhythm on their own. This pair circled the bar, heading toward the front, cascading everyone in a pulsating, springing beat. Faster, louder, and more hypnotic than the last. It complimented DJ-Pon3’s distinct style, albeit, it was never one that I was ever fond of.

I didn't need the distraction, I needed to talk to Pinkameana Diane Pie. Moving forward I saw her. On the Dance Floor, her straight mane reaching to the small of her back, her hips swaying to the music, and her dress leaving little to the imagination. She turned toward me, her smile widened.

"Rarity!" She moved toward me, kissing my cheek, and I felt the brush of her fangs; I am loathe to say that I bristled feeling the elongated cuspids of one my best friends.

"Oh, don't be like that," she cooed.

I didn't want to feel differently. I really didn't. Pinkamena had her reasons for what she had done. It wasn't my place to judge.

"I’m so sorry, Pinkie. Even after all this time, it still bothers me. I hope can forgive. In any case, I need to talk to you," I said.

She nodded, informed a gentle colt to watch the floor, and together we went to her office. Pinkie’s “command center,” as she is so fond of calling it, lays on the second floor of her disco, and as such, as a spectacular view of the dance floor as well having some of the best soundproofing in all of Equestria. Given what I know of my effervescent, pink vampyre friend, I do say it was needed; she and her consort can get up to all sort of shenanigans and their escapades are so lurid and sonorous, that even with this excellent soundproofing, they can still be heard.

Pinkie plopped herself in an overstuffed Neighpolese chair, crushed red velvet on ark oak, and asked, "What's the case, ace?"

I looked at her. Pinkamena did have a tendency of knowing things she shouldn't. She was this clairvoyant before she turned and it only became more pronounced after.

"I'm investigating the colt that was killed," I replied.

She looked away from me, "It wasn't one of mine, but you know that don't you?"

“Most certainly, Darling,” I affirmed, “you have your coven on a tight leash.”

“Everything in the name of fun!” Pinkie giggled, “but seriously, it wasn’t one of mine. We stay out of that district after 3AM.”

“Why is that, darling?”I inquired, “I thought that was prime feeding ground?”

“It was, until Lunar Pegasi decided to open up a pub down there,” Pinkie answered, “those fillies and colts are hardcore. They made it especially clear that we’re not welcome.”

“Well, that’s rather odd,” I commented, “most of the Lunar Pegasi I’ve encountered don’t mind the supernatural among us. Why would these ponies do so?”

“I dunno,” Pinkie said with a shrug, “all I know is, these jerks were being mean to us. We’ve never fed of somepony unless they grant permission, and we never drain a body. We may take a quart here and a quart there, but my first rule of feeding is never leave them weak. I always make sure my coven members carry bottles of orange juice and fresh cookies to keep the drained hydrated and their blood sugar elevated!”

“And it’s usually so much better to bring them here,” said a new voice in the room, a stallion’s voice.

“Hey, Cheesy!” Pinkie beamed to an orange stallion in a poncho, faded denim jeans, and a sombrero, just emerging from the back room, “have a good nap?”

“I guess so,” Cheese Sandwich said, “I missed you, though, so I ended up tossing and turning for an hour. Now I’m hungry.”

“Aw, poor Cheesy!” Pinkie cooed, “well, it just so happens I have primo stuff, right here!”

“Oo, is it AB Negative?” Cheese asked.

“Like I would let my darling consort feast on substandard far!” Pinkie exclaimed and she reaches into a drawer on her office desk to produce a blood pouch, which then tosses to the hungered Cheese Sandwich; I flinch a little as his fangs pierce the plastic of the bag and slurps the life fluid form it in ecstatic fashion.

She looked back toward me, and I could see the way Pinkie’s eyes glistened that she knew something, something I needed to know. But I knew the rules. All information, even among friends, came with a price. Pinkie didn’t need bits. Luna knew she didn’t need them, but I knew something she wanted. I breathed out, knowing that I’d have to do it, and at least I could rest assured that at least it was for a good friend.

“I’m sure you remember Suri.”

The statement was that, just a statement, and such a small detail was something that would be freely given.

“Of course, she likes to come in here every so often. Usually to find a fresh partner,” she replied.

“Pinkie, did she come in last night? Was she here at all?”

I watched as she reached into a cupboard, and from it she pulled what looked like a fresh Cupcake. It looked decadent, full of calories, and most likely containing more sugar than anything its size should.

“I’ll gladly tell you, if you tell me how this tastes,” she cooed.

I looked at the desert, readied myself, and reached for it. It felt warm, most likely still fresh, and I lifted it up. The smell of the frosting hit me first. That wonderful mix of sugar and cream that made up buttercréme frosting. It was swirled around in a kaleidoscope of greens, blues, and reds. On the top a single cherry sat, with what looked like a bit of cherry flavored gel running down the side to produce a single tear. The body of the cupcake was riddled with bright and colorful sprinkles, gentle reminders of its innocent nature, and each one damning the mare who ate it to adding inches to her thighs and flank. Smiling, I plucked the cherry from the top, licked it, and tasted the artificial with the real.

The real was a delightful cherry from Cherries Jubilee’s farm, but the fake, oh, that was something only my friend could make. I licked up the side of it, taking the taste, and then I plopped it into my mouth. I rolled it around on my tongue, taking in the tangy and sweet taste. Using my teeth I separated the stem from the cherry, chewed a bit, swallowed, and then for an extra measure I tied the steam before I removed it.

“There was a sweet and tangy taste, almost like one would imagine the taste of a lover. A gentle reminder of how fleeting and passionate it could be,” I replied.

She watched as I licked the frosting off. Sweet didn’t begin to describe it. It was rich, flavorful, and beyond sweet. I worried for a moment that I may go into a diabetic coma from the sweetness of it. Still, I could taste the faint taste of blueberries, raspberries, and just a hint of mint. Somehow it worked perfectly to create a cooling, yet satisfying topping to the cupcake itself. I looked at her, a gentle smile on my face.

“There’s a hint of blueberries, some raspberries, and a cooling mint, but it reminds me of the day I first stepped into your bakery. That little one you had on the second floor of my old building. It tastes like somepony who takes great pride in their work, and puts love into their creation.”

She gave me a sad smile, and I finally bit into the cupcake itself. It was moist, chewy, the center had been filled with caramel and chocolate, and it tasted like paradise. I glanced at her, “It’s by far the best cupcake I’ve ever tasted Pinkie. It’s a masterpiece of decadent delights, and you should be proud of it.”

She leaned back, and looked at the now empty napkin that once held the cupcake, “Thank you,” she looked up at me, her blue eyes shining happily, “Suri hasn’t been in the club for about two weeks, but she is a regular, and for that reason I’ve had Lemon Hearts go check on her. Yesterday Lemon didn’t come into work. I’m not sure what Suri is caught up in, but one of my employees are missing. Rares, we’re friends, we’ve always been friends, and I’m asking as a friend if you’ll help me find Lemon Hearts.”

I nodded, rose up, and hugged Pinkie again. She once more kissed my cheek, her fangs nowhere to be felt this time. I hate to admit that it made me feel better, but it did. It was almost like being able to hug her before she became one of the undead. I felt a gentle tug on my tail and I let out a soft whimper.

“My door is always open to you, Rares,” she said before she released me from the hug.

I walked back out into the club, and around me I could smell the thick scent of musk. I wasn’t a naive little filly, and I knew very well what happened in any club that had dark corners or enclosed booths. Ponies, regardless of being weres, shifters, vampires, or anything else still were servants of their biology. While I couldn’t see it, I could hear and smell it. Soft moans of pleasure, gentle gasping breaths that came from the sensation of being filled to capacity. Combine what I smelled, what I heard, and what Pinkie had done before I left her office I knew I needed to get out.

I hated that my body was betraying me in such a way, that there was a growing dampness spreading in my core, and I knew that it wouldn’t be long until I’d long for a bit of time alone, to comfort the needful part of me. I reached the door, seeing that the bouncer was nowhere to be seen, and I felt thankful for that. I moved out into the night, but to say that I was no longer affected would be a terrible lie. The effect of the everything that happened in Silky Guilty Pleasures was still affecting me.

I needed to return to my office, or go home, either place and get somewhere that I could attend to this. I had been in there too long, been around all of that frenzied sexual energy for too long, and it had done more than its job. I was panicking now, my body desperately looking for relief that might never come. I had to keep my head together, think this through, and take it one step at a time. I was a lady, and that meant that I was refined. I walked forward, keeping my eyes on the path in front of me, trying to picture every unattractive thing I could think of, and then, I felt something.

I stopped, knowing I had bumped into somepony, and I saw him. Sound looked a little surprised, or he did until I saw him sniffing the air. I studied him, the muscular chest, arms, and legs that I knew so well. Before a word could escape him I found myself kissing him, He wrapped me into his arms, his leathery wings wrapping around me, and I felt the gentleness of a touch I knew could be harder than steel.

“Rares?”

“Sound,” I moaned, barely keeping my voice to low whisper, “I need, Luna above, I need you.”

He walked with me, heading toward his apartment in the seedier part of Canterlot. Each step the desperate need burned away between my thighs. I managed to keep myself from sounding like a filly during her first estrus. I had never, ever so badly wanted to see the inside of Sound’s small studio apartment. I saw the door, something I’d seen quite some time ago, before we’d both decided to step back. The green paint was peeling, the old brass numbers that indicated his room number 4-B looked tarnished, yet that old green door looked like the gateway to pleasures everlasting at this point.

He opened the door, and once inside my hands found the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, revealing the abs of a colt I had loved, and to be honest still loved with all of my heart. I ran my tongue up the crevice between the valley of his abs up until I was once again at the hem of his shirt.

It came off with a flick and then I found my coat disappearing. I couldn’t focus enough on my magic to remove my dress, but instead Sound did it. His hands gently unsnapping the simple clasp that was on the back of my neck. I felt the material fall down, heard the zipper right above my tail, and then I felt my dress fall to the ground.

I’ve prided myself on the fact that I didn’t become stagnant. I took great care to keep in shape, and I did enjoy that my posterior and my breasts had some weight and bounce to them. At that moment I realized that Sound seemed to share my feelings. His hands gently touched my exposed breasts. I felt him hold them, like the most wonderful treasures he’s ever felt or seen, and then he leaned down and kissed my right breast. His tongue snaked out and found my nipple, suckling it into her maw.

I felt him gently tugging on my left between his finger and thumb, but I didn’t need anymore foreplay. I wanted him, I needed him inside of me, and I intended to have it. I pushed him back, moved to my knees, and found the delight I was after. His jeans opened, his zipper pulled down, and I saw that Sound was wearing nothing underneath. He hung long, thick, and incredibly heavily. I reached in and felt it pulse in my hand as it began to come to life. Opening my mouth I licked the head of it, feeling him shudder from my touch.

Slowly I took him inside of my mouth, tasting his musk, feeling him becoming thicker and longer. My fingers moved down, finding my core, exploring myself, moving with need and purpose. I needed relief, but I wouldn’t be so selfish as not want to give relief to the one helping me. I felt his hands, gentle, but strong, lift me up, stopping what I was doing.

“Rares..”

I nodded, leaning over his old card table that served as his dinner table. I felt him, huge, thick, and veiny enter me. He pushed forward and I couldn’t stop the lewd moan that escaped my lips. One of his hands rested on my cutie mark, the other grabbed my tail, and then he pushed forward. I felt full, so completely full, and so stretched out. He pulled back, his thickness leaving me empty, and then filling me back in the most delightful way.

Our bodies began to move, but where Sound was trying to be gentle I changed the tempo. I didn’t want a gentle lover right now. I wanted a savage one. I wanted to be rutted with abandon, to be given it hard and fast, over and over again. Realizing what I wanted, what I needed, Sound began to thrust into me in a way that made my head spin. My entire body bounced and bobbed with each thrust, I felt him testing the very limits of my core, seeing how much it could take, and I loved it. He pulled me up, grabbing a breast and squeezing it.

“Mine,” he growled.

“Yours…” I moaned.

He thrust harder, causing me to reach the very peak of my orgasm, “Mine,” he growled again and this time I felt the gentle graze of a fang on my shoulder. I’d learned what it meant after the first time, and I didn’t care. I didn’t care a bit that he was marking me, that to him I was his mare.

I felt him thrust hard as I pushed back and I felt him fill me with his seed. It felt so thick and hot. I fell forward, feeling so exhausted, and so satisfied. I barely noticed him lifting me up. Instead I nuzzled my cheek against his bare chest. I felt myself being lain on top of something, and then I felt Sound lying down beside me. His powerful arms wrapping around me. Darkness claimed me, and for the moment I was a mare, happy, content, and with her stallion.

Author's Note

(AN: Well, This chapter had me go ahead and change the rating from E to M. I was going to have to do it eventually, but I felt this needed to be done this chapter. I've got to be honest I found myself inspired a bit from the Anita Blake series, so you may find some references to it in there. All in all, I think that this has the potential of being a fairly decent story.)