Bewitching Trixie Lulamoon

Bewitching Trixie Lulamoon

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You can't stop the things I do, I a'int lying...

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Trixie had been backstage at a number of theaters and auditoriums in her life; either as an attendee or a handful of times she had spoken at a magical convention, or even at one or two dinners hosted by the Princess Celestia herself. But those time she had been calm, cool, and collected; she had known what to expect and acted accordingly.

This was not one of those times.

For one thing, she was a guest. And not just any guest, but an attendee without any real reason to go backstage other than because she had been asked to come. The ticket clutched in her hand – which had lit up with a new note to give to the stagehand who had been standing outside a door marked ‘private’, signed by Twilight Sparkle no less – was proof of that. Still, Trixie had to admit there was always something about the backstage of a theater that always seemed lively to her.

She was led by the same stagehand she had shown Twilight’s note to and passed a doorway, she knew, to the stage itself. She caught glimpses of ladders and ropes and metal weights, a handful of ponies moving about the stage, cleaning up with brooms and wheeling lights around. As Trixie paused to watch the bustle, she felt the sensation that she felt every time she stepped into a theater: that she was inside a giant clock, the workings of which moving all around her.

The stagehand continued to lead her down a passageway and stopped at a metallic staircase, and he paused to let three others go by. They wore hats and carried cables, ropes and bundles of dark fabric. They looked tired, but nodded cheerfully to her as Trixie smiled politely at them. Once they had moved on, she blinked and moved to catch up to her guide, finally arriving in front of a door, the letter ‘C’ written in large, stylistic brass on its front.

Underneath the letter was the name ‘Twilight Sparkle’, written on a piece of white paper.

Suddenly, the idea that Trixie had actually gone ahead and left her friends to return home by themselves and take Twilight up on her offer to catch up seemed a poor idea. A very poor idea… and Trixie Lulamoon didn’t do poor ideas. She had no idea what to say to Twilight when she saw her. Could she even manage small talk? ‘Hi? How’s the weather? How have you been these past ten years? Sorry I haven’t written or anything, but I’ve been busy avoiding you because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to look you in the eye after…’

No. She couldn’t do this.

She turned to leave. But, too late, the stagehand had already knocked on the door and opened it, gesturing for Trixie to follow him inside.

Damn it. Nothing for it now.

It was all quite anticlimactic, she realized, as she entered to find Twilight seated at the makeup counter on the far side of the dressing room, looking at herself in the mirror. She half-turned to reply – to the stagehand’s knock Trixie guessed – but jumped to her feet as Trixie entered, her familiar, yet also half-forgotten smile stretching across her face.

“I was wondering if you’d actually come,” she greeted Trixie when the stagehand had left without a word. There was still a hint of the performance in her voice; her natural showmanship coming out in her tone and rhythm. “I actually debated on sending the firefly to you, because, you know, it’s been so long and all. But,” her smile widened, the corners of her amethyst eyes crinkling. “Wow – Here you are! Trixie Lulamoon, in the fur!”

“Twilight,” Trixie replied, taking a moment to look around the dressing room. Twilight had leaned back against the makeup table quite comfortably – it was cluttered with jars of assorted powders and sticks of stage makeup, a deck of playing cards and bottles of water – her legs crossed at the ankle and her arms folded. She was still in costume, and now that Trixie was near enough to notice, her makeup was still tastefully caked on; her face powdered and lips a deep purple, her lashes and eyelids dark with mascara. It was odd, Trixie noted, that Twilight used real makeup instead of magic to beautify herself, but she realized that part of Twilight had always been mundane, and Trixie had always liked that about her. She let her eyes wander down Twilight’s costume, lingering for a moment on her bare legs underneath the flare of her skirt, and then looked away.

“It’s good to see you,” she finally said, softly.

“It’s great to see you, too.” Twilight replied simply. There were a few moments of silence, during which Trixie could do little but fidget underneath her old friend’s gaze, before it was finally broken. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“I did,” Trixie said truthfully.

“Really?” Twilight chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m surprised. I didn’t think you’d like this kind of thing. What was it that the old ponies call it? A ‘debasement of unicorn magic’?”

Cringing in shame at the idea that she herself had once called it that, and in turn could be labeled as an ‘old pony’, Trixie deflected, “You were very impressive tonight.”

“Well then, tell me what you liked best.”

Trixie hesitated. “I liked the fireflies,” she said at last. “a simple spell, but used to great effect. They were very modular and even I was surprised at some of the ways you utilized them. And… well, I liked your costume.” She stumbled, and her shame convalesced into a warm blush that began at the tips of her ears. “It’s very… ‘you’.”

Twilight laughed at that, shaking her head. “I’m glad you like it. But, as you said, it’s a costume. And it’s a costume I need to change out of. Do you mind waiting?”

“I don’t,” Trixie said, and took a seat at the couch in the center of the room as Twilight went to work. She smeared her cheeks with a small dab of cream, and then took a wet cloth to them. She worked quickly and carefully, but distractedly; and as she rubbed at her face she held Trixie’s gaze in the mirror. Trixie shifted under her unblinking eyes, unable to focus on anything in the room except her old friend.

“That’s a nice outfit,” Twilight said approvingly, and then giggled, “It’s very… ‘you’.” When Trixie didn’t answer, just broke eye contact to look around the room, Twilight continued, “So what are you doing with yourself these days?”

“I work on contract with Canterlot Academy as a tutor,” Trixie replied dutifully. And at Twilight’s semi-interested ‘hmm’, she cleared her throat. “I’m also a freelance spell crafter.”

“A spell crafter?” Twilight laughed, as though the idea of Trixie making spells was amusing. Perhaps it was; she could admit that. After all, out of the many career paths Trixie had considered in her youth, she never would have thought she would be working for herself; for her own life, and not her family or the Princess. As it was, her family still didn’t approve of her job. But she did, and that was what was important.

After a moment, Twilight’s laughter subsided and she turned slightly towards Trixie, “What was the weirdest spell you’ve ever made?”

Trixie considered the question for a moment, and finally sighed, “I… actually don’t think you want to hear it.”

Twilight sniggered; opening one of her eyes wide and leaned close to the mirror to remove a stubborn smudge of eyeliner – her mouth stretching wide in a grin and her mouth misting against the mirror. For a second, Trixie believed Twilight might have forgotten about her, and she went back to studying the mare the filly she knew grew into. The rich purple of her face and throat that had emerged from its mask of powder and foundation – the same color of a bouquet of orchids she saw in a flower shop earlier that day,Trixie noted, but darkened slightly to a paler shade at her nose and cheeks – and even, at the edge of her lip, a small fleck of pink the same shade as the streak in her mane and tail. She hadn’t noticed the existence of that streak when they were younger. It must have appeared as she grew out of adolescence, as some similar marks or blemishes disappear when you age. But now, she found the spot wonderfully and inexplicably adorable.

“Okay, now you have my attention,” Twilight finally said, leaning back and wiping her breath from the glass. She turned fully and winked at Trixie. “Go on, tell me the spell.” Her voice had all but shed the professionalism and polish from her performance, leaving the teasing tilt Trixie recalled from their school.

It was that, and that alone, that gave Trixie the courage to actually spill the beans. “It was… well, it was a magical aphrodisiac.”

If Trixie had expected Twilight to be shocked, or appalled, then she was disappointed. The mare simply grinned a little wider, her teeth showing, and her eyebrows rose delicately until she murmured, “And? Did it work?”

Trixie sent a flat stare at her, as if to say look who it is you’re talking to, and then scoffed, folding her arms below her chest. “The client paid me well for my services. I don’t disappoint.”

“Oh, I know you don’t,” Twilight said softly. Trixie blinked and stared straight at her, wondering if she heard what she thought she had heard in the mare’s tone. Twilight’s grin was her only answer, and then she rose and ran her fingers through her mane. “I better change,” she said suddenly. “Don’t want the outfit to wrinkle or anything.”

“R-right,” Trixie muttered. She made to stand, but Twilight stopped her with a hand.

“You don’t have to leave. I’ll just be a minute. Stay?”

Sitting back down, Trixie nodded and watched as Twilight disappeared behind a screen – presumably to change in relative privacy. As it was, being this close to Twilight, especially a Twilight with less than optimal clothing, Trixie could do little but sit there in anxious silence as the sounds of clothing moving over skin reached her ears.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Trixie listened; she listened to the rustle of Twilight’s skirt sliding down her legs, and the soft pops of her top’s buttons slipping through their respective holes. The soft sound of fabric falling to the floor came the same exact time her stomach dropped to her feet, and Trixie felt herself swallow heavily, willing herself to stay perfectly still. Celestia only knew that if she moved an inch, Twilight would be listening as well.

Damn it. Had Trixie always been this nervous around Twilight? She couldn’t remember. No. No, this was a new feeling. New… but definitely not undesired.

A minute later Twilight reappeared, dressed in a pink camisole and shorts. She was barefoot, and her tail swished behind her as she settled against the makeup counter, crossing her legs and leaning back leisurely. Trixie had to fight to keep her eyes above Twilight’s chest -- and what a battle it was.

“So… I have a question for you.” Trixie finally said, averting her eyes altogether by dropping her gaze to the carpeted floor.

“Oh? Well, shoot,” she heard Twilight reply.

“Did you ever…” She paused, hesitating. Well, when would she ever get the chance to ask her again? Another ten years? She may as well ask. “Did you ever regret… what we did?”

She didn’t need to explain. She was sure Twilight knew what she was talking about.

And sure enough, Twilight did. “Never,” was the simply reply; succinct and sincere. There was silence for a long moment, and then Twilight smiled, embarrassed. “Actually, to this day it is one of my best memories from school.”

That… actually surprised Trixie. And it pleased her, knowing Twilight’s thoughts on it. “Really?”

“Of course,” she replied airily, as if such a thing was obvious. Trixie shifted on the couch, and she felt the tell-tale warmth of a blush prickle at her ears.

“And now,” Twilight declared. “I have a question for you.”

Trixie looked up, “Oh? What is it?”

Twilight’s gaze slid away from Trixie, and for the first time since she walked into her dressing room, she noticed that her friend seemed… shy? “Why did you come here?”

Blinking, Trixie tilted her head to the side. “Here… to the show?”

Twilight shook her head, “No. I mean, why did you come here? To see me after the show.”

“You told me to.”

“No, I said that if you wanted to catch up to come see me. You could have ignored my note and left. I was actually expecting you to. I was legitimately surprised when the door opened and you walked in.” She shrugged. “I just… was curious why.”

Trixie crossed her arms over her chest, feeling a little put out by Twilight’s surprise that she would actually want to see her. “You’re my friend,” she finally said softly, looking back up to Twilight. “Why wouldn’t I want to see you?”

“Am I?” Twilight asked, her gaze never wavering from Trixie’s. “Am I your friend, Trixie?”

Trixie opened her mouth to answer, but paused. Was she still Twilight’s friend? She had not seen or talked to her in nearly ten years, and not only because they weren’t often in the same city. Trixie could have found ways to get into contact with Twilight. There were letters and magical methods of communication… and, hell, they even shared some of the same acquaintances from school.

But still, Trixie never once tried to contact her. Why?

Was she afraid? Nervous to try and reach out to her after they graduated?

Of course she was, but that didn’t mean she didn’t think back to every day in school and remember Twilight Sparkle as her good friend.

“Of course I am, Twilight.”

“Because I have always thought of you as more than a friend,” Twilight said almost immediately, catching Trixie off guard. Then, as if anticipating that she would speak, Twilight continued, “Well, I mean at first you were a friend. But then… well,” she chuckled. “After what we did, I don’t think we were ever just friends.”

She fixed Trixie with a level stare, her purple eyes burning into Trixie’s own with a sudden emotion Trixie couldn’t quite pick up on. “And ever since then, you’re all I could think about nearly every day for ten years.”

And there it was, Trixie realized. There wasn’t any stopping it now. The ball was rolling. It was obvious that the pony before her wanted something from her, and she was going to get it. Twilight had always been a clever mare, but she never once hid things from others, always choosing to be blunt about her feelings and her desires. For the most part, it worked work out for her. And this time, Trixie had walked straight into it.

Willingly, mind you. All-too-willingly. And now she didn’t have any choice but to follow through.

Not that she didn’t want to, of course.

However, just because Trixie was willing didn’t mean she wasn’t going to make it easy for her. Slowly standing, Trixie arched an eyebrow at Twilight, watching as her expression grew more and more curious and glinting with intent.

An old, almost forgotten feeling of arousal burned deep within Trixie as she squared off with Twilight in the dressing room. Two words left her mouth like a challenge.

“Prove it.”

Twilight’s bemusement made itself clear on her face, but realization dawned on her as Trixie folded her arms beneath her bust, a tiny, secret smile spreading on her face. She casually slid her eyes down Twilight’s curves with intent to burn.

“My ‘friend’ would never look at me like you are looking at me right now,” she said softly. Trixie shook her head, adamant.

“Prove it.”

Twilight picked up on the game Trixie was playing. The grin on her face returned – all teeth. Trixie wanted action, not just words. Her lips twitched upwards in excitement as a faint blush blossomed on her cheeks.

“Alright.”

Eyes never leaving Trixie’s, Twilight slowly leaned back on the counter. The grin still curled on her lips, her lithe fingers moved down to her shorts, unlashing the thin belt that girded her waist. In slow, exaggerated movements she removed the belt from its loops, holding it in the air after its release. She let go of the belt, allowing the buckle to clatter against the counter behind her. Her fingers moved on, grasping at the short’s button.

She eased the brass though its opening before unzipping slowly, watching as Trixie’s eyes fixated on her navel. The reveal took several seconds before the zipper finally crossed its last tooth. She allowed the petals of her shorts to lilt, giving Trixie the first tantalizing view of her striped panties. Purple and pink.

Then, getting slightly impatient herself, her thumbs hooked on the inside of her shorts. Slowly and steadily, Twilight slid them down her legs. Every tantalizing second passed as an eternity to Trixie as more furred skin revealed itself like the lazy unwrapping of a Hearth-Warming Eve present. From her succulent thighs to her kneecaps, Twilight slid, allowing Trixie a short peak at her cleavage as she bent over.

Her shorts finally fell, pooling around her ankles.

She stepped out of them, shifting her thighs as goosebumps formed beneath her thin layer of fur. Embarrassment began to form as she stood there half-naked, but she visibly repressed it. Trixie began to make her way over, satisfied with the performance, but Twilight stopped her with a shake of her head, nestling her rear end against the edge of the counter.

Trixie frowned; she had gotten all the evidence she needed… but it seemed Twilight wanted to give her more.

She struggled against her composure as Twilight proceeded to give her a show. Never in a million years did Trixie dream Twilight -- Twilight Sparkle! -- would do anything like this, but at this moment she couldn’t care less. It had been so long – so long – since she’d done something like this, and she wasn’t about to let it stop now.

Twilight’s cheeks a dark shade of plum, she bit her lip, leaning back, one hand supporting herself on the table, the other running through her violet hair. There her fingers slowly traversed her cheek before sliding down the lightly fuzzy expanse of her throat, the soft fullness of her chest and the tightness of her navel beneath her camisole. With a determined gaze making sure Trixie was still transfixed, her fingers slowly slipped beneath her panties.

“Enjoy the show, Trixie…”

Quadruple damn it.

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To be continued...