//-------------------------------------------------------// A Den of Debauchery -by Pigserpent- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter 1 //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter 1 Don’t believe the image of Manehatten that popular culture projects—from the glamorized view of the Manehatten social scene shown in TV shows, to the high profile tourist destinations hyped by travel magazines.That’s only half the story.The other half is crime:gang wars, drug addiction, and prostitution run rampant in the parts of the city that the media is paid to ignore. Oh, they “tried” to get rid of it before they stopped to cover it up.Starting with the poor neighborhoods closest to tourist traps, they gentrified every area one at a time under the pretense of “helping” the locals find new jobs.All it did was raise the property prices, and 95% of the former occupants were evicted and forced to find new homes in other poor parts of the city, overcrowding them and only furthering the violence. For example, this started a race war. Ok, so I may be overselling it a little.It is more of a racially based gang war, with the stonies and the shifters being the two players.The stonies are your “normal” everyday ponies, and the shifters are a group of wild changelings—forever labeled as a group of wild, lawless beasts; eventually they forgot who they were and began to buy into it themselves. Not all denizens of the Manehatten ghetto are involved in the war—not even close.Most ponies are too busy struggling with the day-to-day challenge of living to care about the life of anyone else.“Good for them.”A new development recently gave ponies and changelings a new atonement: the recognition that changelings are really good in bed. That’s where I come in.I work in the most esteemed changeling brothel on the south side of Manehatten, untouched by the gang violence around us.Our status and relative safety attracted all sorts of folk, from ponies who have been saving up for one visit, to top end businessmen and fashion designers.Well, more “their” status.Those kind of folk want the changelings who are really good at roleplaying.Point is, we all see many interesting characters coming and going to the brothel. Currently, I was headed to work, wearing the disguise of a pink pony with a blonde mane and… a flower cutie mark?It’s not important.It’s just another body I would use for one trip then throw away, until another Changeling would steal the same design they see on the streets and begin the cycle anew.I’ve probably stolen designs from other changelings would later steal them from me.For all I know, nobody I passed that night, dipping across dark Manehatten streets, was a “real” pony. The brothel operates within a rundown three story building labeled “The Grimy Motel.”Legend says the motel was once owned by a pony named Grimy Goals, who sold it when, surprisingly, no pony came to his motel.Other than the name, normal ponies are kept away by the boarded up windows, the lack of light exiting the rooms, the neighborhood, the unattractive brick square design of the building, the mold growing from the cracks, police tape trapped in one of the nails of the window boards… come to think of it, there wasn’t anything about the building that wouldn’t actively repulse a lost suburban pony.Ponies who went inside knew exactly what they were getting themselves into. This building has two front doors.The first is wooden and has a “Come in We’re Open!” sign that kinda works sometimes, and leads to a waiting area with a locked door on the other side of the room.The other door is a heavy metal door, painted brown to blend into the bricks, and is always locked.This door leads behind the receptionist desk, where a pony buzzes customers into the building and is where employees enter. I reached the metal door and reached up to take off my thin necklace with my keys on it, hidden to other ponies by my neck fur.I took the smaller key and put in the lock and tried turning.Dammit, wrong key!This always happens!I switched keys, but this one didn’t even go in all the way.I groaned and looked around.A green pony in a wide brimmed hat and matching coat was looking at me and the building I was entering with his mouth wide open.When he saw me look, he turned and galloped away around a corner.Whatever, the awkward conversation that would follow was none of my concern.I tried the first key again and the lock worked this time. An old looking brown pony with spectacles was sitting by the reception desk, head down towards some tabloid magazine.I remarked a greeting, but she ignored me, so I continued through the cramped entryway and into the hotel proper, grabbing my keycard from my mailbox on the way. Each of us are assigned rooms when we start work; mine is 214.When I arrived at the elevator a red stallion was holding the door open for me.I thanked him. “So, which room are you going to?” he asked.I know he was only trying to make small talk, but the way he smiled with missing teeth made his question seem a lot more… degenerate. “214,” I answered, stepping out of the elevator. “Oooh, you’ll have a good night.She’s a decent mare.Personally, I always ask for 201.She’s the best mare you can get without paying 3rd floor prices.Trust me, I’ve been with every pony here.”He turned and went down the hall in the other direction to sleep with… one of my coworkers I’ve never met, I suppose.I don’t really know anyone else here, or if 201 is actually the best lay on the floor.I also don’t know if I’ve ever met this pony before, or what pony he had me become for his visit.It doesn’t matter, but it struck me how many… uh… schlongs I’ve seen and don’t remember.They all look the same after a few years. My room was equipped with various types of furniture that customers could choose.Most customers liked the large, cloudy-soft bed that was probably more expensive than any of my furniture at home, but there was also a chair, a beanbag, a table, and of course a working shower in the bathroom.I hopped on the bed and pressed a button on the phone on the dresser to let downstairs know I was ready. A few minutes later, my phone rang.I answered. “The client requests that you become a tall, lavender unicorn mare with a straight, indigo mane.The bangs go straight across the forehead, and the mane has a purple and hot pink highlight.Purple eyes, pink six point star cutie mark with white stars around it.” I always transformed in the bathroom, just to look in the mirror and be certain that I got the client’s requests right, especially if they had implications that we weren’t allowed to convey for legal reasons.While checking myself out, there was a knock on the door.I went to open it. Outside my room was an orangeish-tanish earth-pony stallion with black, greasy hair that should’ve been trimmed a few weeks ago.His green eyes were wide and he was grinning a lot more than he was consciously aware of.When he saw me, he whispered, “Your highness,” and bowed, all the way to the ground, for a little too long and with a little too much reverence.When he finally stood up, I spoke. “Come inside, my little pony.” He sauntered into the room, eyebrows raising and his grin extending further than I though was possible when he saw that I included wings in my transformation.He sat down on the side of the bed.I joined him. I spoke again; “Do you have a friendship problem?” “Actually, your highness,” he said, “I just want to hear about how your day went.” “How my day went!It was rather boring.”I internally winced.Key rule to roleplaying is to not deny what the customer wants.This is why I’m not paid the big bucks. “Oh, no.I want to hear it.Spare me no detail.”He put his arm around me.I returned the favor and we both laid down, and I began to tell him about “my” day.I told him about doing paperwork to build a new school in Las Pegasus.I told him about stopping a fight between two nobles who disagreed over tariffs with neighboring kingdoms.I told him about trying to balance Celestia’s cake budget.He got a laugh out of that last one.All the while, he was running his hooves through my fur and pulling me in closer and closer.Eventually, I felt him reach a little bit lower on my body and grab my hindquarters.” “So, my little pony,” (I need to stop using that dumb line, it’s getting cliché), “Is there anything you would like to talk to me about?” “Actually, Princess, I do have a little bit of a friendship problem.” “Let me hear it.I would be more than happy to help.” “Well, I’m looking for a special somepony, just for the night, and I was wondering…” “You would like me to be your special somepony?Say no more.”I rolled onto my back and spread myself out a little.The orange pony moved himself above me.As he entered, I spread out my wings, and he began to go to work on me. Without a doubt, the largest perk of this job is that we’re paid twice, in money and food.During sex, ponies spill out love to their partner, whether they want to or not, and I get to lay here, tasting the flavors of the night.Except, there wasn’t much to taste with the orange pony on top of me at this moment.I felt the love entering my body, but I couldn’t taste anything.His love was so devoid of any real emotion that it was impalpable.I tried to focus more on the lover entering my body, on his emotions, but after all my straining I could only taste a bitter dryness.A dryness that began to gain strength and creep around my body and overtake me.Subsequently, I went back to focusing on the physicality of the moment. Let’s just say that he didn’t know how to treat a lady right.The whole encounter lasted about 30 seconds before the stallion finished, looked at the clock, said his goodbyes, then ran out of the room.And, of course, his love had a slimy, sour aftertaste.I gagged my way to the bathroom to grab some water before going back to the bed and cleaning up. Once I was finished, the phone hadn’t rung again so I turned on the tv in the room to some “reality” show and started fantasizing about the next guest.Ideally, it would be a white… orange… whatever, color wasn’t important.He just had to have small—large—uh...Well, he had to have muscles.However, I can make up my mind on one thing.I need some spice right now, so I hope that whoever it is comes here looking for a hatefuck. About half an hour later, I got a call for the next guest. “Red earth pony stallion, yellow eyes and floofy mane.Cutie mark should be a sunflower petal.A little chubby, but not fat. Especially in the cheeks.”I turned off the tv and went in the mirror to check myself out.I thought I looked a little too feminine, most notably with the hair and the cheeks, so I replayed the message in my head, then shrugged. This is what the client wanted. Knock Knock Knock On the other side of the door, stood a middle-aged yellow unicorn stallion, dressed significantly fancier than the last guest.He was wearing a light blue dress shirt with a red bowtie and slacks.His face beamed with confidant pride, except his eyes which refused to look forward, opting for a little to the right of me instead. “Hello Mister.Would you like to come in?” I asked in a voice that mimicked a stoic movie protagonist.He silently nodded, then stepped inside and slammed the door shut.I led him into the room; he followed me and we both stopped in the center of the room. “I looked around.Where would you like, sir?” He didn’t answer, but raised one of his front hooves.I noticed that his leg was shaking a little, but he quickly reached out and slapped my ass.After that, he wasted no time coming in for a kiss, grabbing my neck, and plopping us onto the bean bag. Sucked in by his warmth like a fly to a lantern, [N1] (https://www.fimfiction.net/chapter/1209027#_msocom_1)we continued to face-fuck.His arms flew up and down my body, trying to be sure every part of my skin felt the lingering tension of his squeezes.I tucked my arms in and began to remove his clothes.To my surprise, it was his head that went south and started to suck. When I finished, he helped me up then went belly first onto the beanbag, presenting himself to me.Again, I noticed him tense up. “Is something wrong?” I asked.I then heard him speak for the first time, in a gruff, but friendly and nearly-quivering, voice. “This is my first time with a stallion.Please be gentle.” “Can do.”I grabbed some lube off the counter and shrunk my body, just enough to ease the shock when I went in. This love tasted very different than the last one.Where the last one was hollow, this love was full and meaty, tasting like meat you’d get from a budget steakhouse.The juices inside my mouth were palpable, and I savored every moment, tasting the genuine love that a hooker could only observe once or twice in a lifetime, even if I had a lingering feeling that his love wasn’t meant for me. As I pulled out, I glanced around to his wallet that had fallen out of his pocket and opened to a picture of a mare who looked exactly like me.And I understood. As he pulled his clothes back on and left, I considered stopping him.Reaching out.Telling him about spell and potions that may be able to help with what he’s going through with his wife. But I didn’t. It’s none of my business. I didn’t have to wait long before the third pony arrived, but unlike his peers he hadn’t sent up a request, so I opened the door for him in my natural state.He was the youngest of the three ponies, and he wasn’t wearing any clothes, instead showcasing his cream body and wings in all their natural glory.His cutie mark was a comb, and you could tell why by looking at his blue mane.The front of his mane had been spiked; the rest of which was nicely swept to the side.His appearance was stunning and I could only assume that he was a model of some kind. Also, his eyes were wide and he was biting his lip. “You’ve never done this before, have you?” I asked, staring him up and down. “Err.No.My friends told me to come here.” “I see.Well, come in.”The pony followed me into the room then wiped off a spot on the bed and sat down on it.He then stared at me for a minute.“Normally,” I said, “you make a request for what you want me to look like.” “Oh, uhhhhhh.I wasn’t prepared for this.”He looked behind him to his tail.“Can you do particle and shimmer effects on your mane, like Celestia?” “What effect do you want?”You’d be surprised at the amount of ponies who want me to replicate Celestia’s or Luna’s mane.The lust for power the nobles have is more than a little weird at times. “Can you do a rainbow, but shimmering and shifting with sparkles in it?” The mane he was asking for was a combination of Celestia’s, Luna’s, and Rainbow Dash’s, but the way he was smiling up at me like a little colt led me to believe that he hadn’t noticed where his inspiration came from.It’s more like he tried to think of the coolest looking mane he could ask for. “And what color do you want my body to be?” I asked. “Well, white would be a good choice, I think.”I shifted, and he stared at me for a moment.Noting that he wasn’t going to do anything, I made the move and put my right hoof on his shoulder, gently pushing him down onto the bed.I dipped for a kiss, and felt him briefly recoil before returning it.I kept going, but he wasn’t reciprocating very well. “Hey,” I said, pulling away from his mouth.“If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.” “Wha…”He coughed.“What do you mean?” “I’m not sure if you’re ready for this, and if you’d be more comfortable talking it out or something, we can do that instead.” “Yeah.I think I’d like that.”I rolled off of him and laid down on the bed next to him, legs swinging off the side, kicking idly in the air next to his stiff legs that were still clutching the side of the bed. “So, you mentioned your friends forced you to come here?” “I didn’t say forced!” he blurted.“But yeah.They did.”He rotated his head to face me instead of the ceiling fan.“They said that I’m getting too old to still be a virgin, and that at this point if I manage to pick up a mare I’ll just be an embarrassment to myself.They brought me here to get some practice, and even offered to pay.But…” cutting off what I was about to say, “I don’t feel like I want it to happen like this, or even now.If I did pick up a mare, why do I have to bang her for it to be official?Why can’t we just go play cards or something instead?” “You don’t.There’s nothing wrong with being a late bloomer.” “I’ve been masturbating for years.” “No,” I said, waving my forelegs in the air, foolishly hoping that they would communicate what I meant better than my mouth would.“I don’t mean physically, I mean mentally.I know you wouldn’t believe it, coming from a prostitute, but I went a very long time after physical… readiness before I was actually considering having sex.” “You’re right.That is hard to believe.” “But like, when I hit the point where I was ready, I enjoyed it.And when I found out about this place, I knew that there were much worse jobs to have than having sex with a bunch of strangers.” “And… Is this what you hoped it would be?” “Well, it pays fine.And when you’re used to one night stands, the sex isn’t that much worse on average, so I’m enjoying it.”As I was talking, I felt him scooch a little closer to me.The next few minutes passed in silence, as we laid, staring at the ceiling—the hanging light that swung around, likely because of the couple upstairs.I felt my legs subconsciously match its rhythm.The stallion did eventually have to speak again. “Um, I feel awkward because I don’t think we’ve actually introduced ourselves.I’m Style Guide, a hairdresser from downtown.What’s your name?” I froze.This shouldn’t be a hard question.I had to know.I had to. “I uh.No one has used my name in years.Since I started living on my own, I’ve only talked to my clients and vendors…I’m sorry, but I don’t remember.” His face narrowed and he sat up. “Nonsense!” he bellowed, louder than he intended to.“Every pony remembers their name.” “I swear,” I said, pulling myself up to join him.“I don’t remember.” “Well, is there anything I can call you?” “Well, my boss calls me Room 214…” “No,” he interrupted.“I mean, you should come up with a name.Rename yourself.Right here, right now.” “I… That’s a tall order.” “Come on.”At his insistence, I let my body slump forwards as I tried to come up with a name.Whenever I thought of something, I dismissed it.Nothing sounded right.Once I felt that Style was getting impatient, I realized I had to just choose something.I looked up, and started looking for inspiration from my surroundings. “Call me Lamp…” “Look, I’m sorry I forced you.”He looked away from me, doing his best to hide his disappointment.“Oh!” he swung around.“I could help you chose a name!”In his giddiness he stood up and started to dance around like a little foal.“Here, just tell me who you are, and I’m sure we can find the perfect name for you.” “Okay.”I swallowed, then pulled my legs onto the bed so I could make a little room between us.“Well, I’m a nameless changeling prostitute…” “No, no, no!”I nearly fell back from his outburst.“I mean, who are you really?What are you dreams?What do you do in your free time?What makes you unique?” “Well, after work I head home and sit in front of the TV, and just watch whatever is on.Occasionally I’ll follow a series, but not often.Sometimes I check out a book, but I don’t remember that last one I’ve finished.Most of the money I make goes towards rent and my cable subscription, but I’ve saving the rest.” “Expand on that,” he injected.Style was nodding along to me the whole time, but now he found what he was looking for… I guess. “Well, someday I want to leave Manehatten.I don’t know where I want to go, but I’m going to travel, and see the world, and find someplace where I can settle down and call it my own.” “Is that it?”Style was still nodding and smiling, but something looked off in his face. “Yes.That’s me.That’s all of me.” “That’s… pathetic.I’m sorry, I can’t help.”He turned away and started to leave. “Wait, what do you mean?”I got up and followed, so he turned back to face me before he got to the door. “Do you want to know what my dream is?My dream is to become the best hairstylist that any pony could ask for.But not to do it for myself, but to help them.Do you know how many ponies don’t feel like they can be themselves?Little colts who don’t want to get “girly” haircuts, or grown mares who don’t think they have the hair to pull off a certain style.Stallions who are starting to lose their mane.Ponies who are old and are afraid to try something different.I want to be the stylist who tells those ponies that they can get those styles they want.They can wake up in the morning and see themselves in the mirror, and go ‘Yes, this is who I want to be.’I want to give ponies the satisfaction of knowing that they can be whoever they want to be, and I want to help them achieve their dreams.”He scrunched up his eyes, and I could see tears starting to fall down his face.“And you have the greatest gift of all.You can change your appearance at will.You can be any pony you want to be, and yet you don’t want to be anybody.That is what disgusts me about you.That is why I’m leaving.” I buckled, staring at the carpet as I heard the door close behind me.I had so much to think about, and thoughts couldn’t stay in my head long enough for me to actually think about them, pushed aside by a new topic that needed me to address it.Who am I?What do I want to be called?What do I want to look like?What do I desire? In my hurricane of thoughts, it was something physical that broke my spell.A tang on the side of my mouth.Sweetness.The taste of genuine cane sugar.A pure, fledgling love.And in that moment, I realized that not all of it came from Style. I propelled myself backwards, getting up and peaking a look at the clock.Yes!Only a minute had passed since Style Guide left.I sprung myself down the hall, out the door, and across the longer hall to the emergency staircase, all the while allowing myself to rapidly change appearance—new manes and coats and cutie marks blurring together as I searched for one that felt “me.”When I finally made it outside, I jumped, searching for the blue mane.To my left!Yes! I dashed around ponies, nearly knocking a few over, and when I got close I shouted Style’s name.He turned, looking around until I nearly bumped into him. “Lillytiff!” “What?” he asked. “Lillytiff .Call me Lillytiff.” “Oh.” Realization covered his face, and simultaneously we were hit by relief.“I have to say, I like the form you’ve taken.In the chase, I hadn’t time to pay attention to what form I had been taking, but now I had my chance to check myself out.I had gone back to white, but now with a plain green mane, flat against my neck and back.My cutie mark was a green heart, matching my mane. “Thank you.I also wanted to know if you wanted to go out to dinner sometime.Maybe Friday?” “Sounds good to me.”We exchanged phone numbers, then stood in the street, staring at each other yet avoiding eye contact. “Thank you,” I said. “Drat, I was about to say that.” “Well, you can still say ‘No, thank you.’” “Yeah, but I’m not a character in one of your soap operas.But seriously, thank you.You’re really good at the sex thing.Talking about it, that is.” I smiled back at him.“Are you saying I should look into a new career?” “Only if you want to.But I am saying that you could help more ponies than just me.”I began to think.There was the second stallion that came to me tonight.I could have directed him to genderbend spells, or talked to him.It could have made a difference. “That’s worth considering,” I said.“Thank you again, see you Friday.” With that, I went back to my last night at the brothel.