Shadow Play

Testing walked down the streets of the city as he had many times before, looking about for any places that might need workers. The search had been just as hopeless as it always had been, and even now his hopes for any sort of gainful employment were waning. He wasn't giving into despondency yet, but every day did seem to bring it closer.

The streets were all hustle and bustle, and yet it felt so empty. Testing simply sighed, looking down at the notepad that held the list of places where he thought he might have a chance. It was starting to look less and less hopeful with each name crossed out one by one, leaving the final three options.

The Prissy Pony was not one he wanted to spring for - mostly since it was a strip club. Possibly he could work the bar? He doubted it. Despite being eighteen years old - though technically more along the lines of that many days in actuality - and so generally allowed to serve alcohol in Manehatten, he also was afflicted with the same baby face Cress had. The exact same, actually.

A passing glance might make him out to be somewhere around sixteen, if not fifteen. Mental age didn't count for much when he looked young enough to be learning algebra for the first time. If it was mental age they were after, he could deliver in spades. Few ponies, after all, could claim to have been born as a result of being raped. Some ponies could say they were the result of rape, but it was almost too true in Testing's case.

Referring back to the list before him, he found the address - which ended up was a few blocks over from where he was walking. Quickly sniffing himself, he nodded at the fact that his smell was no worse than the streets around him. He'd walk in there, ask for a job, and move on. What was the worst that could happen?

"Fuckin' really?" The pony at the door asked, eyebrow cocked. He gave Testing an appraising look that seemed to esteem Testing as 'not exactly Prissy Pony material' - if Testing was any judge of looks. "You fuckin' wanna fuckin' work fuckin' here?" So much for employee loyalty. The large stallion was built like an old brick building, and some of his tattoos made him look like some of those buildings too.

"Well, if you are hiring, then yes." Testing pressed, desperately hoping beyond all hope.

"Fuckin' look, kid, we ain't fuckin' hiring fuckin' minors."

"I'm eighteen." Testing interjected, holding up the document Twilight had made for him. The stallion looked at it with even more caution - obviously being one who was well acquainted with fake IDs. He took it, and with a sharp tap from another piece of magic enhanced plastic, paused.

"You fuckin' got the fuckin' Princess of fuckin' Magic and fuckin' friendship to fuckin' make you a fuckin' ID? Fuckin hell, bro, fuck!" He said, passing the ID back to Testing with a whistle. "Fuckin' haven't fuckin' seen to many fuckin' IDs fuckin issued by the fuckin' newest fuckin' princess. Fuck." Testing would have to guess the stallion liked to fuck. Either that or he was from further downtown than his accent hinted.

"Long story, but yeah, she was the one who issued me the new ID. Previous one got a bit too close to the Dark Stone in Basics of Magic, and when I tried... well, I did say it was a long story." Testing lied, doing his best to get this guy off of his case. The stallion huffed, and looked Testing over once more before shaking his head.

"I'll check with the boss, see ifin he fuckin' wants to fuckin' interview your ass." He muttered, obviously not entirely pleased with having to do this for whatever reason. Why he would ever want to stand about outside an old converted factory in the darkest and dankest corner of Manehatten on a wet afternoon like this was beyond Testing, but then again the other stallion's personal motivations were not within his purview. "Fuckin' wait here."

And so he fuckin' did. It wasn't a long wait, as the big stallion came back out and waved him in through the heavy metal door. The resounding clang of it closing behind Testing sparked a moment of fear, the terrible hours that birthed his existence knocking at his hindbrain. The comparisons between this place and that place were more than coincidental in his eyes - although coincidence they were.

"Fuckin' walk to where you see the fuckin' sign for the fuckin' bathrooms," the burly stallion said behind him, pointing towards the general direction, "take the fuckin' stairs beside the fuckin' sign. Fuckin' march your fuckin' tiny ass up there and fuckin' knock on the fuckin' boss' fuckin' door. If you're fuckin' lucky he fuckin' might be fuckin' and fuckin' invite you to fuckin' join him. Fuckin'."

"Honestly, Stonewall, you need to lay of the 'F'. You'll wear it so thin that the fillies will be able to dance in it." A voice called over from the counter. There, a unicorn mare stood with cloth and glass in hand, dutifully cleaning in the way of bartenders everywhere. "I'm Clean Sweep," the unicorn said, gesturing with the glass toward Testing as she did, "resident head bar keep, first line defense for the fillies, and manager of the poker tables."

"This place has a betting parlor?" Testing asked, completely confused how a place could get the necessary licenses for both business ventures.

"Strip poker mostly, though the clients do have to bet money against the clothing of the fillies or colts. Naked clients are only allowed in the back rooms." Sweep answered. "You best get a move on, though. The boss doesn't like being kept waiting." Testing gave a hesitant nod before doing his best to follow 'Stonewall's' instructions.

To be fair, they weren't hard to follow with how well signed the bathroom was. Testing wondered why a strip club would want their bathrooms to be well signed to the point of excess, but the prospect of work was a bit more pressing. Walking up the stairs, he knocked on the "fuckin'" door, and waited.

"Yes yes, come in." A surprisingly prim voice called out from behind the door. Opening the door, Testing found that the pony who was inside was not, indeed, fuckin' fucking. In fact, the boss seemed to be just doing paperwork. The table he sat at was on of the collapsible folding tables that let Testing see the pinstripe suit pants the other pony wore, completely removing the enticing option that he might've had a pony under the desk sucking him off.

"I was told you wanted a job, young stallion. Please, sit down." The unexpectedly prim pony invited, gesturing to the chair across from him. Testing entered the office, closing the door behind him with some confusion boiling in his soul. The office was, at best, not fully furnished. Stepping inside, Testing could tell the folding table wasn't the only functional piece in the rather small office.

The chairs, all three including the one the boss sat in, were folding metal chairs lacking cushions. The once white paint was chipping off here and there, and the edges were frayed in rust. The cabinets behind the stallion were apparently unpainted and had never had paint touch them. They also didn't have any rust on them. The smooth sound of the boss opening them spoke of well-oiled and expertly maintained craftmanship of the industrial brutalist design of the filing cabinets.

There were no paintings, no rugs, and the window was obviously an unmodified original from when the building had been nothing more than a factory that had needed a supervisor to look out over the floor. Now, the window looked out over the floor that was lit in strings of incandescent bulbs that dangled precariously from one end of the massive building to the other. From this vantage point, Testing could see the arrangement of the dancing poles, the raised catwalks, and other areas in which the fillies - and colts, by what Sweep had said - would perform for the lusting watchers.

Compared to this room, it was fabulous. The dance area had character to it, and possibly thought put into the aesthetics. If thought had been put into this office, it was the general thought of "I need a table, a chair for me and two guests, and about three filling cabinets for our records. Also, if it could be made only just large enough for only myself, my guests, and the most intimidating bouncer we have on staff, that'd be grand." Either that or instead of skimping on the costs of alcohol they skimped on the expenses for executive furniture.

Bringing himself back to the moment as he sat down at the chair across from the boss, Testing put on his best rendition of the prototypical interview smile. A cheerful disposition tempered by professionalism that attempted to give the air of knowing what he was doing at all times. Unfortunately for those interviewees everywhere, interviewers only ever see this as the smile of someone who is mildly constipated.

"According to my door pony, you are of age - despite not looking it." The boss began, leaning a tad back in his rickety metal chair. "Being eighteen is all well and good, but I need maturity. I can't have somepony who accosts my fillies and colts working in here. You have to be able to hold yourself back from fraternizing the wonderful ponies we employ here - whether or not they are dressed to the nines or dressed to the nones."

The stallion across the table leaned forward and stared Testing down. "You might think you are pretty good against seeing eye candy every second of every day, but you'd be surprised." He said in a voice that felt a tad bit more intense than what Testing thought the circumstances necessitated.

"I want you to be honest with me, because if you are lying it'll become very obvious in a short while." He continued, his stare just as intense as his voice. "Have you seen every bit of anatomy of your fellow pony? Have you seen dicks that aren't yours? Have you seen a pussy, an asshole, or tits that flop out at you as soon as they open their shirt at you? Have you fucked? Have you been fucked? Have you watched others fuck? Have you done all that in a way that didn't include a screen or a magazine?"

Testing had to stop himself from saying "Why yes, I have met Berry Punch," as the stallion came to an end of his barrage. "Uh, yes... I have actually... all of those." Testing confessed, absentmindedly checking the fact he was wearing gloves. He always did, but it was like checking to see if you were wearing pants: ludicrous to think otherwise, but you just know that the moment you don't check is the moment that you forgot them.

"Oh really?" The boss pony said with a crooked half-smile. "So if I brought in a strip dancer right now and had her go down to her birthday suit, what would you do?"

"Depending on the filly, I might whistle. I'd most certainly ogle." Testing admitted with a shrug. "I am a guy, after all."

"I see." The stallion nodded slowly. "And you wouldn't, for instance, try and grab her? No pinching or gentle caresses? You are sure that you have the guy downstairs under control?"

"I mean, he'll definitely get excited, but... I got stress relief at home." Testing joked. It was true beyond a shadow of a doubt. It was also the reason why one of the first sundries that the entire house had concluded that they had needed despite their meager means was a candle to help with the smell.

The boss pony just raised an eyebrow before picking up a radio from his desk. "Send in Mahogany for a test." He said in his cryptic way. Testing didn't really have to guess what would happen next with the context he already had, and it was something he was equal parts looking forward to and dreading.

A moment later, the door behind him opened once more, and shortly a very attractive mare walked in. She was draped in what essentially looked like a doily that had been stretched out. More holes than actual fabric. Testing could already tell that beneath the holey fabric was the barest measure of coverings.

"Yeah, boss?" 'Mahogany' said in a tone that spoke of the sheer boredom she seemed to be feeling.

"This colt wants to work for us." The boss pony said simply, pointing a lazy finger at Testing. "Give him your best." Mahogany, even though she was facing away from Testing, rolled her eyes so hard that Testing felt it. Mahogany turned to face Testing finally, sizing him up.

There honestly wasn't much to measure on the surface.

The mare began her technique, doing her best to entice Testing into doing something the pony behind her wouldn't like. Testing, for one, was well prepared - having the shadows of memories of Cress' moments with Berry. This mare was certainly a tad larger in some areas compared to Berry, but she lacked the effortless sexiness the older mare could pull off so easily.

This mare could rub her hands over the curves of her breasts and slap her wobbling ass as much as she wanted, but Berry - even as the shadow of memory - was considerably better. Maybe he'd call her at some point? It'd be nice to talk to somepony out of the group that wasn't the other side of the pair. It'd be fun.

The throwing of her shroud onto him brought Testing back from his wandering thoughts. Mahogany was doing a good job of it, as his schlong attested, but it wasn't enough to make him want to touch her. She just didn't come across as his type. Then again, what was his type? Submissive ponies? That was generalizing it a tad much.

The mare brought him back the second time with the crack of her hand against her voluminous behind. Her hand print lingered a second longer than Testing had anticipated, almost making him feel sorry for the mare. She would just dance and dance only to be showed up by his general disinterest built up from his thorough inoculation against the lewd.

She was sexy, she just wasn't sexy enough. It really was a pity. Sure, Testing would have to scurry away for a quick wank session unless he wanted a serious case of the blue balls, but he wasn't really tempted to do that now. At least, not right now.

Mahogany then, in a final act of sensual power that she might have over Testing, moved entirely too close to Testing. "Boss, may I?" She asked, not even looking over her shoulder. A low grunt from behind her gave her all the permission she needed, and a second later she grabbed Testing's cheeks and planted a long, sensual kiss right on Testing's lips. It was enough to drive his boner to knew heights while also bringing waves of panic to what rationale he still had left.

She pulled away, licking her lips in a predatory way. Her hips wiggled as if she were a cat ready to pounce, and based on the newly minted lustful light in her eyes, Testing could tell she was about to. He wasn't going to be getting the job, was he?

Testing tensed as he watched the mare lift herself up to her full height over him. It had been a bit since his power had been used, and unfortunately he was about to find out how it felt to have it backfire.

With a lustful growl, the mare pounced, sending him and his chair toppling backwards into the far wall. She was on top of him in an instant and was kissing him with wild abandon. Testing did his best to ensure all her tongue was doing was licking his clenched teeth, which even so was quite a lot weirder than he wanted.

The lust crazed mare was suddenly pulled off of him by two strong hands, only for those hands to be tackled by the mare's sex-crazed state. "Mahogany, that's quite enou-" The stallion's voice was cut off in what Testing could only assume was a kiss. The next sound was likely the sound of his pants getting unzipped.

Testing, thinking quickly, got to his feet and threw open the office's door open. "Bouncer to the office! We need some muscle!" Looking back, he saw the boss wrestling Mahogany off of his no-no square. He'd have to help more directly, wouldn't he? Just great.

Acting quickly, he grabbed Mahogany in an approximation of a full nelson and tried to heave her off of the boss. She, however, proved stronger than him and kept herself close to her prize. All Testing could do was keep her from going too much farther.

Suddenly, Testing was pried off and the massive Stonewall hauled the ravenous Mahogany off of the boss with ease. "Get her out of the room and find her either a dildo or somepony to fuck her!" Testing gasped out, trying to catch his breath. "It's the only way to snap her out of it, trust me!" The hulking mass of bouncer looked at Testing, but eventually just nodded and moved out of the room.

"I... assume by your familiarity with that reaction that this isn't an entirely rare occurrence for you." The boss breathed, standing up from the floor while dusting his ruffled suit off. "Would you care to explain why one of my most professional dancers decided to try raping the two of us and why you hadn't made that possibility one that I had known beforehand?"

Testing sighed, looking out the open door towards the mare who was attempting to fuck Stonewall's bicep. "It's... well, not a curse. It's kind of hard to explain, but," Testing paused, considering how he could best phrase this to not kill any chance of getting a job, "Well, when I kiss somepony it gets them worked up into a frenzy of passion. They only stop after cumming... or orgasming in general."

"And you figured a strip club was a good place to work with such a preexisting condition?" The stallion asked in a tone that Testing couldn't quite read. Was that just general snark or was there something else to it?

"Honestly, I've tried other places before this. No pony else has... exactly been in a position to find out about my situation." Testing answered truthfully. No pony else had tried to touch him or kiss him in any of his other interviews for some reason, which was likely for the better.

"I see..." The boss pony muttered, moving back to his desk which had somehow managed to avoid Mahogany's destructive lust. "Well, I can arrange for you to have a thirty day trial period with us as a bartender or a table manager. Your choice." He said pulling out a small bundle of papers out from one pile.

Testing was too stunned for words for a good few moments, taking in all that had just been said. "Excuse me?" He began lamely. "You mean... you're alright with me... working here?"

"Honestly, the number of candidates that can pass Mahogany are quite few, and I make it a requirement that everypony has to pass either her wiles or Topaz's." The stallion said nonchalantly. "Beyond that, the number of applicants for on floor positions are quite limited before even that requirement. Most who want to work here want to dance here"

"I... see." Testing mumbled, reaching out for the papers.

"Very good, we'll discuss which position you'll go for after you finish the paperwork. Both positions require most of the same forms either way." The stallion nodded. "I'm Grind Stone, by the way, and I'll be your boss from the moment you finish signing those documents."

"Testing Testing." Testing replied, holding out a hand for a shake. Stone crooked an eyebrow, taking the hand in his firm grasp.

"Parent's audio engineers or something?" He asked with his crooked smile.

"Something like that." Testing shrugged. It seemed there was some light at the end of the tunnel after all.