A Little Vice

I awoke slowly, a warm body against my back and a cool breath blew upon my mane. It wasn’t until I felt my forelegs move did I realize I had another body against my front. Grey, black… the evening, post bath, flashes before my mind’s eye and I recall passionate kissing, sucking, lots of licking. Sex in positions I had thought below me were done as naturally as a morning stretch. An errant hoof in a place I’d rather not recall, several times I enjoyed it… and the feeling of love and completeness as I fell into a blissful slumber.

Part of me instinctively wants to recoil from the mare I’m embracing, but a larger part quickly gives in and I pull her closer to me with my legs. Her mane smells of sweat and cherries.

I hum contently as I lay between the two mares for perhaps an hour before Octavia stirs first. With a yawn she announces her wakefulness just before she squeaks quietly and scoots from my embrace. I pretend to be sleeping while watching her from the crack of an open eyelid as she trots quickly to the lavatory.

My ears are privy to the sounds of her morning release and, for some reason, I feel a sense of embarrassment for eavesdropping on something so common and natural. Especially after what we had done several hours prior.

She returns with clean hooves and climbs into bed, stopping to look at me for a few seconds before turning around and scooting back into my embrace.

What is happening to me? I should be disgusted, or at least repulsed at this mare’s presence in my chambers, yet I feel content with her here, and with what we all did last night. I have no qualms of her being in my bed, room, or even house. Perhaps Fleur is influencing me, but I find myself feeling more happy with each day and event with her. More normal.

Nature makes its call to me as I lay so comfortably and I choose to ignore it until Fleur stirs and turns over to get comfortable in a different position. I quietly, yet hurriedly, make my way out of the bed and to the lavatory where the scent of last night punches me in the muzzle like a wagon full of watermelons.

The scent of mine and Octavia’s fluids permeate the air in a pleasing and commanding way. I feel a sense of pride well in my chest as I feel I dominated her. As though she, for one night, was mine.

I do my business and as I’m leaving Fleur rushes past and takes her position to relieve herself. “Wait, Fancy,” she calls and I stop in time to hear her begin to release water, “I wanted to thank you for last night. I know it was sudden, all of it, and it wasn’t planned, but you took it in stride and I appreciate that.”

I clear my throat as the new scent of Fleur mixes into the air and my knees feel weak. “I don’t mind, it was a wonderful experience. My first of that kind, if you must know.”

She is silent for a second and I hear toilet tissue being used. I’m about to take my leave when she speaks again, softly. “Fancy, I didn’t know. I’m sorry, if I had I would have made it special.”

“I’m sorry?” I ask looking back to see her looking away. “Dear, what’s wrong?”

“Your first time with two mares, it’s supposed to be special and I didn’t make it special.”

I move to her and lift her chin with my hoof. “Darling, it was the most unexpected and amazing thing that’s ever happened to me in bed, second to our first night.” She sniffles and leans closer to nuzzle me. I recoil. “Ah, perhaps in a moment. Given our current situation.”

Her eyes widen and pupils shrink slightly as she nods fervently. “Yes! Away with you, let a mare finish in privacy,” she waves a hoof to the door. I nod and take my leave glancing back once to see her eyes fixated on my tail. I stop just before I completely leave the room and swish my tail once before I close the door behind me and go to the closet.

I pick out my clothes and move to the entryway before I realize I won’t be groomed because I have guests. How long has it been since I was groomed before I left this room? Does it matter? I wonder as I dress myself quickly and check the clarity of my monocle. My moustache is a bit out of sorts, I’ll have Grey Withers… oh, that’s right. I’ll trim it myself before I leave. I decide.

I wait for Fleur to leave the lavatory and time seems to crawl until then. When she exits and sees me, she stands with the poise of regality. “I want to make sure I look my best for you.”

“A pony of fine taste, indeed,” I nod. “Where did you learn such a stance, if I may inquire?”

“Lessons. Hours and hours of lessons. Lessons until my legs felt broken and my back so sore it hurt to move. Yes, lessons.”

She stands with perfect posture, even her mane seems to be perfect. “Fleur, I had no idea you could look so ravishing and beautiful.”

She walks slowly to the bed like fine silk blowing in an unseen breeze without a hint of trouble. She canters sideways and smiles at me, raises a hoof and waves with a twist.

“Doesn't that hurt a bit?”

“It's positively excruciating,” she responds softly, composed and calm, smiling pleasantly. She lowers her hoof and lowers her front slowly, extending her right leg into a bow that stops half way.

She rises after several seconds and I wince as her joints crack as she goes. “That, is only some of what I had to learn to be in my family. A greeting worthy of the princess herself.

“Possibly the third reason I left,” she relaxes with a deep inhale then sigh,”the others I'll tell you later, but for now, Fancy, understand that I appreciate who and what you are.” She flexes her legs one at a time.

“Thank you for sharing, Dear. I'm ready to hear anything you have to say.”

Octavia stirs and rolls out of the bed quickly, looking at the clock against the far wall. The one that's shadowed at night and I rarely even notice on the best of nights.

“I thought I was late,” Octavia sighs, “may we have a moment, as mares?”

Fleur nods. “Fancy, I’ll be down with Octavia in several minutes. I must make sure she’s presentable as well.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m only glad you both don’t wear outfits, otherwise I would see you for lunch at the soonest,” I say with a dignified bow.

A pillow flies from the bed and slaps me across the face as I rise and I stumble in surprise. The mares giggle at my expense. “For that, perhaps us ladies should try a few items from the wardrobe. What do you think, Octavia?”

“I think that sounds splendid. Fancy, we’ll see you shortly.”

I’m too flabbergasted to speak so I turn and leave the room as the mares giggle to each other. I wonder how long they’ll be. Hours, perhaps? Wind should have more than enough time to prepare a lunch for us all.

My eyes widen as I realize it’s nearly the day of Pascal’s arrival for our playdate. I have so much to plan for, to prepare, and all alone this time. I’ll skip a large breakfast in favor of some oats and water while I clean and sharpen my tools and accessories. I have to make sure the table can hold a full grown mud pony stallion, not to mention enhance the sound spells and duration. There's the matter of snacks, as well…

It’s not lost on me that I refer to Octavia as a mare now. I think she’s more than just a lower class pony, she’s better than that, and I should afford her the luxury of a better title. She’s a mare of her own making.

I arrive in the dining room to see a meal favoring oats and fresh berries waiting. I smile as I grab several bunches of berries and a bowl of oats in my magic before trotting to the kitchen and descending the stairs, locking the door behind me. I open the door to my room and seal it quickly and my nose twitches as the scent hits me.

I realize that without Grey Withers, the entrails from the dog are still festering on the floor. There are no flies, but the bacteria have taken their toll over the past day on their home. I can’t have Wind come and clean this up, so it falls on me to do this part. I gag slightly as I lift the innards and the rest of the clothes I’d left them on into the box and cast the sealing spell, letting it teleport to the Everfree and away from my life forever.

The stench lingers and I have to admit that I have no spell to quell it. I have no potions or candles either, perhaps some incense upstairs for ceremonies?

I resign myself to suffer at the moment before trotting to the table and starting the cleaning, sharpening, and polishing of my knives and saws. The table is about the right size, but I have to clean it as well from the dried, blackened blood. The cleaning bucket makes its own chemicals so I fill it with water and quickly scrub the surface until it’s nearly the polished quality it was supposed to be, but I haven’t the skill to remove refreshed blood from the edges.

Short of taking the entire table to the utility shower and washing it, risking rust, I have to leave it as is. I clean my mess and trot to my armoire, opening it carefully and looking at the medical clothes within. I got them on the off chance that I’d have a messy animal or I had an aversion for some reason. Yet here they are, and soon I may have pony blood on my coat. Should I cover myself for the first time or be naked?

I may have to play this one by ear, I suppose. I spend half an hour cleaning and organizing my playroom before taking my leave. I take the empty bowl with me as I leave and seal the door behind me, the basement air a refreshing change. I ascend the stairs and enter the kitchen and notice the servants averting their noses as I pass.

It’s then I realize the stench of dead, rotting dog has clung to me. I rush up the stairs and into the bathroom, undress and toss my clothes into the tub where I add water and scented oils to them before climbing in myself and scrubbing my body with the water at my hooves. A knock on the door startles me but I pay it no mind as I turn off the water and clothe myself again. A simply drying spell does its task and I feel ready for the day again, smelling fresh and clean, a brush in my mane as I open the door to Fleur.

“Fancy? Are you alright, I thought I heard the bath running?”

“All is well, dear. I simply had something on my hooves I had to wash off, and a touch of bath oils to soften them as well. I’m nearly done with my mane, as it tussled, so I’ll be along shortly, dear.”

She leans in and kisses my lips. “Don’t make us wait too long, Octavia has to go to the concert hall and that’ll be the last we see of her for a while.”

My heart sinks. “Oh, really? I forgot about that, to be honest.” Never did I think I’d have feelings for a mud- an earth pony mare.

“Aw, it’s alright, Darling, I’ll take care of you. I must go, but I’ll see you shortly.”

“Indeed.”

As we leave the concert hall the sound of Octavia’s music practice fills the silence before the noise of the city drowns it out. It’s nearly lunchtime. Had I known she was going to shop with Fleur one last time I’d have made separate plans.

Fleur carries several bags in her magic, having left Octavia’s modest purchase of a single bags s worth of items and souvenirs with her before we left the concert hall. I lead us to a diner and we eat our meals in silence, as though we’ve said goodbye to a close friend and are coming to terms. “Fleur, would you be willing to give me space this weekend? I have a friend I wish to play with, of sorts.”

“I believe I can. I haven’t anything planned, but I’ve made a few friends over the past couple days, so I can entertain them. I must spend an evening with the prince, so that would take care of one day, I’m certain.”

I gulp loudly. “Darling, I know I said before I didn’t mind, but-”

She speaks softly. “I shan’t sleep with him, or let him near my tail. That’s yours, and yours alone.”

My smile hurts my cheeks when she says that. I nod once and let my magic caress her side and move down her body until it’s under her tail. She gasps and narrows her eyes at me and takes my rod in her magic, trying to coax it out. I release my magic and inform her it isn’t the time or place, that we can take care of that later.

She agrees to a truce, thankfully.

We leave the cafe, her beginning to fluff her mane and prance as she walks beside me. “Darling, what are you doing?” I ask.

“I’m preparing for my career as a model. I won’t be seen with you as some simple mare, I will be seen as the star I am, with the best stallion in the city.”

“And I, the luckiest stallion, will not make you practice too much.”

She scoffs and punches my shoulder lightly. I feel a smile on my muzzle as I look at her, then I see her looking away from me. A fine stallion walking across the street has stopped and is looking intently at my Fleur.

I feel a primal rage in my chest and I feel magic tug my lapel, stopping me several paces from her just as I enter the street. “Fancy?! What’s gotten into you? Look at me!” she shouts as she pulls my chin to face her. I look into her eyes and the fire inside me calms.

The thought of impaling that stallion with my horn and dragging him to my playroom then letting the royal guards watch as I eviscerate his bones and feed them to a starving rabid dog!

“Guh, wha- Fleur? I, apologize,” I stammer and blink, looking around to reorient myself while she pulls me back onto the sidewalk. “I, don’t quite-”

“I know what happened, you got a little jealous of me, didn’t you?”

A little? “Ah, I believe so… Please, don’t-” she places a hoof over my lips. Her eyes say everything I need to hear. “Darling, I have feelings for you. To think of you leaving me to be with another stallion like my mother-” my voice hitches.

“Fancy, your mother? What happened?”

I avert my gaze and recount my mother’s death during a trip to the eastern borders of Equestria before I could make peace with her for an argument we’d had before she left.

“Ohh,” she coos and nuzzles me, pulling me into a hug, “You poor colt. I’ll always do whatever I can to help the pony I love.”

She presses her forehead to mine, our horns crossing. I feel her magic swirling into me at a fundamental level and I return the favor. “I love you too, Fleur.” We share a moment before I break our magical link. She fluffs her mane once, still peering into my eyes. “Let’s, gather your shopping, I am in need of something sweet.”

She giggles. “Ice cream? Gummies? Perhaps something a little more… refined?”

I turn and grip her bags in my magic. “I think anything with you will suffice.”

We begin to trot to a nice dessert shop Fleur asks. “Fancy, have you ever had a lemon drop? I want you to eat a lemon drop with me.”

“No. Why?”

“So you know that life can be sour and sweet at the same time, plus it's something I like to treat myself to, once in a while.”

“Ah, I’m going to have to try that, someday in the far future.” We share a slight laugh, our sides against each other.

We enter and choose our desserts, she makes a point to find a single lemon drop that she puts on top of my ice cream. I pout while she looks intently, insistently, at me. I have no other choice. Eugh, it’s sour and sweet. But, it’s nice at the same time. Like mother. The way she’d scold me and then hug me, her little prince, when my punishment was over.

When I’d fall and skin my knee, she’d bandage me herself. Not a servant, but with her own skill and magic. On my birthday’s she make the cobbler herself, apple cobbler with the sweetest apples from Ponyville. Ice cream imported from the north and oats from the south.

I feel a pressure across my chest and realize my eyes are closed. A hug? Why am I trembling? My face hurts a little and my eyes, what’s happening to them?! Am I dying? Is this my moment? Wait, this feeling… am I, crying?”

I open my eyes to the blur of tears fogging my vision and see a lump of pure white before me. I’m making noises, too. I’m openly crying, but why? What happened to cause this embarrassing moment? I was only thinking of- “Mommy, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it, I don’t hate you! Please, forgive me.”

I sob loudly and bury my face into Fleur, holding her tightly as I tremble and shake in her embrace. I can’t, and don’t, care about the others in the room, building, city… world. “I... just want my mommy back,” I manage after I don’t care how long.

“It’s okay, Little Prince, I’m here for you now.”

Her voice is deeper and more certain, but I hear my mother speaking to me. It’s a miracle beyond what Celestia can offer. I finally calm down and pull back enough to look into her face and instead of Mommy, I see Fleur. I raise my forelegs and my hooves take her cheeks closer to me. Our lips lock and I sob once as I kiss her.

She kisses me back and I break the kiss to hug her again. “Thank you, so much.”

She hums. “Is this going to happen every time you eat a lemon drop?”

“I haven’t a clue.” We chuckle and other voices giggle. Now I blush as I realize where I am and what’s just transpired. “Ah, perhaps we should take our desserts to go.”

“Yes, it may be for the best. Should we go home?”

“The park, I need time to think and the park is far more comfortable an idea.”

***

We sit in the adult area of the playground where parents watch their children play. “Fancy, this isn’t what I expected when you said ‘the park’.”

“She used to take me here three days a week. I’d play there, there, and I loved the sandbox over there. Tag was over there, and it seems it still is. She’d bring warm tea with honey and would have a cup poured for me when I was thirsty every time.”

I feel a foreleg around my withers as I recall my very full childhood. “You, haven’t cried since she passed, have you?”

“I, didn’t even realize. I missed her, but never did I actually let myself show it. I’ve delved into my hobbies and pet projects. Perhaps I was just finding ways to distract myself from my sorrow.”

“Everypony is allowed a little vice, but to let it cover the pain isn’t healthy. I’m proud of you for being able to accept it.”

Yes, I accept the loss of my mommy, but at what cost? How many lives have ended to cover the pain? Tears leak down my cheeks again before I know it and again. Without a word, Fleur embraces me.

“Dear, aren’t you embarrassed to be with me? A sorry, blubbering foolish colt?”

“You’re in pain, emotional pain, Fancy. It’s not enough for me to be here, I am here with you. Maybe… We can be there for each other, now.”

I chuckle between sniffles. “We’re both broken, how?”

“We both lost our families,” she whispers.

I then realized that I wasn’t alone in the universe anymore. A kindred spirit sat beside me, holding me as I wept into her coat. A hoof petting my mane. Mommy. “I love you,” I sigh.

As we trot across the street leading to the theater I think of the past few hours. My realizations, my being comforted, my murders of innocent creatures, and being comforted by the mare beside me. I don’t greet ponies as they pass. I don’t even look them in the eye, for what I’ve done I don’t deserve to look at them.

Pascal, I owe him a weekend at my home. He deserves it, for all I’ve done. I’m certain he’s a kind and thoughtful pony, one that I could befriend without thoughts of harming him. No blood on my face or on my hooves for once. Even my beloved hasn’t been spared my dark thoughts. I won’t cry again, enough of that. All I can do is make amends, and it starts with Pascal. He’ll be the one to change my life, turn it on the right path, forever.

“That was a lovely show, Fancy. I’m glad you took me, it was so sweet, the way the stallion found the mare of his dreams just before he passed after looking all his life for her.”

“Yes, and it took my mind of everything else that’s been happening. Good show, indeed. I say, what’s that?” I raise my monocle and see across the street clearly.

“Isn’t that the servant from Whitemane’s? What was his name again?” My monocle drops and I feel it tug on my collar as it stops suddenly. “Who’s that he’s with?” Fleur asks.

I turn my head towards her. “If I didn’t know better, it seems to be that foul, rude, uncouth mare, Braun,” I chuckle, “may he survive the night.” Fleur chuckles back and turns away. I hurry to press my side to hers again as we walk.

“Fancy Pants, you’re so affectionate now. It’s almost like you want everypony to know we’re together.”

“I don’t care what they think, as long as you’re by my side.”

“Well, while I agree, I must say that it’s a bit too close for me at the moment. Perhaps a hoof of distance if you’re on my right, so I can fluff my mane. I’d like to make the other ponies jealous of what we have while leaving them hope of a chance for me.”

“Ah, thus increasing your popularity! You’re cleaver, Fleur des Lis, quite clever.”

“Thanks, I believe we’re going to work well together,” she leans close to my ear and whispers, “and not just in bed.” I feel my blushing face brush against hers before we take a step apart and she fluffs her mane and moves her bags between us. “Just for the walk home, Darling.”

I hope she’s not uncomfortable with me being so close. Less than a week and I can see my future with her, practically.

We trot back home and I’m surprised to see Grey Withers in the foyer, sitting on a couch with a piece of paper on his forehooves. He sits up and looks at me. “Sir, I’d like my job back.”

“Grey Withers, it’s been not even two days. Are you unemployable, old chap?”

“Nay, it’s just, I can’t imagine another home to work in. I’ve been with you, in this home, since you were a newborn foal. I’ve watched you grow from a yearling to the stallion you are now.”

He’s still professional, even though I can see the pleading in his eyes. “Grey Withers, I’ve already given your job to another. What would you suggest I do, should I take you back?”

Fleur takes her leave as I sit beside him. “Fancy, you know me and what I’m capable of, just as I know what you are. I won’t tell, as I’ve promised before, but I can’t imagine you having my replacement clean up all your messes. In the same respect, you can’t be comfortable with the idea of doing the same.”

He makes a good argument. I lean in closer to further personalize our conversation. “If I take you back, your protege will lose her job, and she’s done quite well so far, if not a bit inexperienced.”

He bites his bottom lip and glances around nervously. A gulp. A twitch in his eye. “You can play with her, and then no pony would know.”

I’m taken aback for the first time by this stallion. I can’t think of what to tell him, so I peer into his eyes and I see truth in his words. “Grey Withers,” I whisper, “are you actually suggesting I…”

“Just... offering an option that would benefit us both. I’ll take my leave and should you reconsider, I’ve moved into the hotel by the train station,” he tells me as he slides from the couch and to his hooves. “Either way, I know you’ll make the right decision for yourself in the end.”

He leaves while I sit still and stare at the closed door. What am I to do?

“Sir,” Wind calls to me from the library. I trot over and look in to see a plain box on my desk. “Mister Withers asked me to see that you got this once he left.”

“Thank you, you may leave.”

“Yes, sir.”

I close the doors when she leaves and turn my attention to the box. Upon opening it my heart aches and I know what I should do, must do. It all becomes clear. When did I stop minding my servants calling me sir? Perhaps my little toy in the basement has another skill I can put to use, besides stress relief.

Fleur and I tuck into bed, little to talk about after such a long day, an exhausting day. I have to prepare for tomorrow, when everything changes.