Fleur sauntered down the hallway, dressed in her stage fineries. Few could see her there. They were in the rooms to the left and right. She could hear muffled sounds through the doors as she passed them. Some were little murmurs of conversations.

Some were far louder cries of passion and bliss from a pony, sometimes two... One sounded like more than two. She colored faintly, but pressed on past it. It was not her duty to consider such things. What ponies paid for, they got. There were few rules about it, save that the guests obey the guidelines the ponies they requested set for them.

The construction, her mind wandered, was of top quality. She could not even try to determine which ponies she was hearing, barely getting the hint that the noise was there to begin with and not much beyond that. But that was none of her business either. She had a customer waiting, a client really. She knew almost nothing of them, save that they would be holding a very specific ticket. The ticket would tell her she found the right person.

The ticket would give them access to her. Complete access. Different ponies had different rules. Some were bold and daring... Setting very few things off the table to start. There, door #117. It wasn't her door, not on any permanent basis. But it was the one she had been told to report to. It was the one her client would find her, and present his ticket.

With a glowing horn, she rapped on the door twice in sharp solid strikes. But there was no reply. They had not arrived before her. She pressed the door open and stepped inside the dimly lit room. A massive princess sized bed occupied much of it. There was also a bath, and a drinking bar. Everything one needed to enjoy the evening…

Fleur willed the door closed. With a twist of her magic, she heard a loud click that announced the lock was deployed. Only a pony with the proper key could enter. Her visitor would have to knock, much as she had done. If he was rude… She could reject him outright. That was part of her charm, her mystique. One did not approach Fleur in an uncouth manner and expect to remain for long.

That they were a stallion was one of the few facts she knew with certainty. Not that she only entertained stallions. Sometimes a mare desired her company, and why not? She could give them just as pleasant an evening, and sometimes just someone to… share time with is exactly what a pony may be after.

Some ponies just wanted that, companionship. But those were the minority by far. Most had far more… active wants and needs. If they wanted to sit and talk, there were plenty of other ponies waiting to do just that in the open areas of the casino. Still… with a famous enough pony, that was enough, sometimes.

A knocking stirred Fleur from her thoughts. She hopped gracefully onto the bed and sank down on her belly, clearing her throat softly. "Qu'est-ce?" she called. Little sprinklings of Prench were a part of her image, what ponies wanted to see, to hear…

"This, uh." A stallion. "This the right room?"

Uncertain, perhaps scared. Fleur smiled gently. Not uncommon. "Peut-être. Do you have ma ticket?" She played the accent thick on that last word, curling her tongue. "If this is so, then oui."

Dimly, faintly, she could hear the stallion searching. "Right here, uh, miss?" Ah, good, they had some etiquette. "I'll put it under the door." Not technically required, that, but she did not stop him. A bright silver ticket emerged from under the door, floating an instant before her magic took hold of it.

She brought it over to look at. Her name was emblazoned on it. Two hours. "Oui Oui Oui!" she half sang out. "You are in the correct place." A dull but loud click sounded as the lock was undone. "Please, Entrer," she bade, watching the door. She did not open it, however.

The handle jiggled a moment, glowing with obvious magic as it twisted and opened, revealing a slight shape, a grey unicorn with an uncertain smile. "Hello, ma'am."

Fleur raised a brow, surprised. They did not appear rich or famous, but they had purchased 2 hours of her time despite that? "Good evening, mon petit poney. Come inside."

And he did, rushing in and closing the door behind him. "Of course, ma'am!"

Fleur inclined her head. "I feel there may be some… malentendu, a misunderstanding. You have paid for moi." She turned a hoof on herself. "But you sound as if it was moi who called for you."

"Sorry, ma'am." He rubbed behind his head. "I'm Bags Valet, Miss. I'm used to helping ponies get their things around." He cleared his throat softly. "I've been a fan of yours for… forever, ma'am… The way you walk, the way you talk, er, usually not talking, miss… You're everything I'm not…"

Fleur smiled gently at the slight stallion. An innocent, unknowing of the way of things, of mares, of perhaps even himself. She would treat him gently. "Come closer." She gently waved him and he came, a little trembling. "Protégé," she whispered. "Come up beside me."

Soon they were seated, belly down, side by side. She gently leaned against him, just a little. "Tell me about you." Such stallions were often very unaccustomed to another pony having an interest in their little lives, their little dreams.

"I'm really happy to be here… with you. I saved up for months." He stood up suddenly. "Ma'am… I… Ma'am…" He was dancing on his hooves, struggling to get the words out. "Ma'am… I want… If you would allow… Um…"

"One word at a time," she gently counseled. "If you are prepared to take a no, then that is the worst you will face."

"Yes, right, of course… Ma'am, Fleur… I would like to become a stallion today. I…"

She placed a hoof gently on his lips. "This can be done, mon petite… Do you know anything of it, or are you as pure as driven snow in the spring, hm?" Oh, how he trembled, an answer in itself. "Then, if you can trust in moi, I will guide you."

And then, a smile. The tension fled him in a sudden step. "Fleur… thank you." He suddenly leaned over and pecked her cheek. "I will do my best."

"I feel certain this will be the case, petit monsieur." She lifted him light with her magic, just enough to prompt him to get into position as she rose. "Now, one thing ponies often do not know, when it is their first… There is no 'correct' way to do it. Only the ways you enjoy, that your partner enjoys."

His eyes grew wide. "Which ways do you like, ma'am?!" he asked a bit hecticly, swallowing that nervous lump. "Sorry."

"Since you ask…" Eyes half-lidded, she fixed him with a sultry stare, full of promise. "I prefer belly to belly, with the stallion beneath me. Not all stallions favor this, prendre note, but it is moi préféré." He was not resisting as she gently nudged him right back down to his side first. "I see you have come prepared…"

Her breath washed over that excited pillar of his virility, the tool he had brought to win that battle. "You are larger than I would have guessed." There was scarcely a stallion out there that minded being complimented on that sort of thing. "As large as your heart, perhaps, ready to make a mare swoon with delight?"

She had seen a number of such things. Had one. No...Non… She was getting distracted.

He giggled perhaps a bit boyishly, his hind legs kicking, eyes locked on her, and what she was focused on. "I will do my best," he assured with a little more confidence. "Please show me how, Fleur, ma'am."

"The very first step." She raised a hoof even as she touched the end of her snout to his pulsing lance. "Is to make sure the mare, she is ready. My face, she only gives some hints. You will need to look elsewhere." She gestured with a toss of her head towards her back end, a knowing smile gently worn.

"O-oh!" He scrambled upright, but took the time to smooch the very nose that had touched him. "Thank you," he basically whispered, moving around her to see. "Oh!" Had he never seen a ready female before? Perhaps not. "Oh…" But he liked what he saw, his warm breath teasing against her as he leaned in. "Eep!" She had winked, surprising him.

That sudden clap of her nethers got a jump out of him, but he was soon closer, recovering instantly. "You, um… smell nice, everywhere…"

She made sure of that. Cleanliness was a part of the look… "You will not get far with me in this outfit." She shook gently, making her clothes rustle. "Ask nicely, then remove it. Be a gentlepony, for you are a stallion today, with a mare that wishes your company."

His breath caught, but he stood just a little taller. Yes, he was a stallion. "Ma'am, may I remove your clothing? They look… nice on you, but I bet you'd look just as stunning without them."

Fleur burst into soft giggles. That little stallion was striking her as a nice thing. "You may. What a gentlepony… No wonder you've managed to draw the attention of such a refined mare." She could feel his magic drawing her clothing away with a practiced touch. Ah… "You have helped a mare to dress and déshabiller, haven't you?"

"It's one part of my job, ma'am." He even folded the stack he had made, setting it aside atop the dresser, all neat and ready to go. "Fleur… may I?"

"I have already given--" He was on her, hopping up clumsily. "Oh mon dieu!" She shook him off without too much effort. "Silly thing, you were doing so well." She smooched his blushing cheek. She wasn't too angry at him. "Silly thing," she gently repeated. "Eager to get to things? That is a stallion for you, hm?"

She set her hooves on his shoulders and he went still. Bags allowed her to push him down, to crawl on top of him, their belly meeting in a rub. His rock hard member was caught between them, their belly fur tickling savagely. He wanted to thrust up into that warm space, as if it could be good enough, but there was more to be had, and he held himself back.

He got out a deep grunt as he felt it. They made contact, sinking into the yielding, flexible portal to her body. He was embedding into her, a sword to her stone, held securely as he hugged her tightly from below. "Oh!" The angle was not what he expected, but he was surrounded by her scent, pressed by her large refined form. He was hers, and he was rapidly warming to the idea.

She sank to the hilt against him, pressing her snout against his throat in little nibbles along his sensitive flesh. "You are a stallion," she reminded, rocking against him. "Nopony can ever take that away from you. Know that this mare chose to accept you, mmm. I could have turned you away. I could have rejected you…"

But she had not, and he knew that, moving in counter to her, his hooves flexible forward and backwards in little spasms of joy. All too quickly, though perhaps unsurprisingly for his first time, it crashed upon him all before he was ready, his world reduced to a hot point of almost painful completion.

He had become a stallion.

Panting and delirious, he flopped weakly to the side, though still trapped on his back beneath her, heaving for lost breath.

"Mon petit étalon," she whispered in his ear, kissing the delicate doom that made it up. "Rest with me… Emerge into the hallway as you are, a stallion."

Author's Note

The tale continues! Bags had a good time. All the fun may have distracted things, which can cause typos, beware.

Join the special community of folks who like my stories and/or get your own here at atreon!

Don't want to do an ongoing thing? You could

Join my discord to chat!