Diary Of An Earth Pony Stripper

by Randimaxis

Chapters

The Full Monty
Party of Six - Group Rate:
Performance - Public Rate:
Performance - Private Rate:

The Full Monty

RULE #1
NEVER sleep with a client.

RULE #2
ALWAYS make sure you're safe before you begin.

RULE #3
Make sure the pay is right.

RULE #4
Bring the fire.

RULE #5
No matter the pay, NEVER suffer a bitch/bastard.

Plain and simple. Those five rules up there are what I've been basing my entire life around for the past few years... and honestly? Of all the livings to be had in this modern day horse race, it's certainly one of the least boring professions that exist today for stallions like myself.

I have no idea why my mother decided on the name 'Full Monty' for me; maybe she was feeling weird and chipper, the day she had me. Maybe she just wanted to go with something unusual and unique, in order to help facilitate an interesting future for me. Maybe she couldn't have any way of knowing what the terminology meant, and simply did so because it sounded good.

Most likely, she'd been hammered on moonshine again and thought it would be fucking hilarious.

Growing up in the hills of Appleloosa, I didn't have a clue of what it meant either - not until I went to the big city, the Big Applecore, The City That Never Sleeps - Manehattan. I can still remember it like it had happened just the other day, how I tooled into town on a bus with seventy bits in my pocket, looking for whatever work would have me.

Construction work was at a premium, and so was the pay - I was hauling beams and shoveling concrete in no time. Good thing, too - I'd been broke since day two in the big city, and had been frequenting a hollow spot under a bridge for a few days until my first check came in.

Now, understand that, as an Earth Pony, I'd spent a number of years on my family's farm, digging and planting and herding and bucking and so on - and because of such, I was a BIG colt. I easily stood at least three or four apples taller than the average stallion, and I certainly had enough muscle to fill out my large frame. This was one of the reasons my foremare - Dusty Crane - made sure to put me where I was needed most, where my strength was used most efficiently to get the job done.

At the time, I didn't notice - but she also made sure that, wherever I was working, SHE was working too.

I tended to lose myself in my work, for the most part. Never was much for gossip or hobnobbing with others - not that I'm anti-social, mind you; more like I find others to be... frustrating, let's say? Seriously, other folks complicate everything. The more that others get involved in a situation, the more that situation spirals out of control. So, yeah - I'd rather spend the day alone than with anyone else.

But working by myself, I started to notice that I STILL wasn't quite alone. Eventually, after some time had passed with me working at this one particular site, I noticed that there was a group of three mares, all of which seemed to materialize each and every day, right around where I was working, and began calling out to me.

If it wasn't 'Hot Helmet' or 'Nummy Buns' or 'Big Studly', there were a million other nicknames the mares had for me, each one usually shouted at me louder than the one before it. Then other mares eventually came by and joined suit, and soon I found myself as the center of so much attention, I could no longer do my job safely.

Dusty pulled me to the side after a particularly active day for my 'admirers' (one of 'em had tried to grab my flank - and I don't put up with that shit, so it had devolved into a yelling match), and let me in on a little secret of her own as she told me SHE had been staring at my flank for weeks - and that no less than TWO of the mares in my little fan club were her sisters.

"Monty," she told me in that Manehattan drawl she had, "you got somethin' heah - somethin' you could make a TON o' bits wit, if ya know what yer doin'. An' what yer doin' heah? Well, s'good woik, but I don't think we can get any more o' dat city centah done wit you workin' it like ya do - as it is, we got complaints dat yer makin' it hard ta woik heah... 'course, dats mostly from da udder fellas - dey're a jealous bunch, dey are."

"Whatchoo need," she told me after scanning the area to make sure we were alone, "izza job dat'll put dat fine flank o' yours ta good use fer YOU, dere! I gots a bruddah - he runs a place what could put yaz where ya need ta be, where you can make lotsa bits! All YOU gotta do's shake yer booty, an' I promise ya - you'll be swimmin' in dough!"

The encouragement was intriguing (not to mention pretty damned flattering as well), so I went after work to check the address she'd given me... along with her number, which I promptly 'lost'; dating someone who always smelled like sour sweat and onions just didn't hold any appeal for me.

It was a nightclub named 'Back In The Saddle', and the owner was this rather chill stallion who took one look at me and said, "Heh - Dusty weren't lyin', were she?" His name was Domino Fortune, and he kept a stable of both mares and stallions at the ready to dance their asses off onstage for beaucoup bits - at least, that's how HE told it.

Now dancing? THAT, I'd enjoyed a good bit in my younger years; farm colt or not, there was just something about a good, strong beat that made me sway with the music... and well, when you sway, you eventually learn to do more. And that's how I learned to dance - eventually, with slow and steady progress over the years spent in the barn's hayloft, enjoying the radio while I perfected my moves.

So, I started my new job that night - and as fate would have it, I made a KILLING on the dance floor. Domino said he'd never seen a newbie rack up so much revenue on their first night, and offered me a permanent position at the club. I took it - I mean, was I REALLY going to turn down a job where all I had to do was dance in next-to-nothing all night long?

I spent the better part of four years there, shakin' my groove thing and making the mares swoon and squee with delight. Didn't even have any incidents... until one particular night, where one of the mares managed to climb onstage and tried to grab my flank.

Like I said before, I don't put up with that shit.

When the cops finally got the whole story from me, the bartender kirin and Dom himself, they decided not to put me in a cell for the night; the drunken cunt, however, had purposely spit on one of the officers when they'd tried to calm her down. SHE was booked into the Iron Bar Hotel for her troubles.

That night, Dom cornered me and asked why I lost my shit and swung on her - his argument was on the side of the customers, of course; Dom was always about the bits, and didn't sit well with any sort of trouble that might lessen his revenue. Myself, I'd decided that it was time to move on - especially if Domino wasn't going to stand up for me.

But I'd learned a number of things during my time at Back In The Saddle, and had decided that I'd simply manage myself - I'd put out ads as an 'exotic dancer' in the Manehattan Times, and simply become what I figure would count as a 'male stripper', for all intents and purposes. I'd had plenty of business as a club dancer - maybe I'd get lucky and turn out to be successful.

And, well... I most certainly AM successful. Perhaps a bit TOO much.

See, the mare-to-stallion ratio in Equestria has always been rather mare-heavy: essentially three-to-one, in favor of the mares. Because of this, there's a LOT more Estrogen out there than you'd think - and as there's apparently a deficit of stallions willing to strip and dance for the mare-side of our populace, well...

I am a VERY busy stallion.

After all the bullshit that had happened to me during my club years, I came up with the five rules you read at the top of this... what? Missive? Report? Shit... might as well be my diary; I'm no egghead, but I'm okay enough with words NOT to look like an utter moron when I write my stuff.

Seems like it was about three years back when I started down this path in Life... and here I am now. Got myself a decent bank account - not rich by any means, but not living on noodles and crackers, either. Got a nice apartment for basically a song... and YES, I mean that almost literally; the landlady took one look at me and was practically drooling to have me move in right next to HER apartment.

A two bed, one bathroom slice of normalcy is where I live. Here, there's never any stripper music, there's no flashy or tacky decorations, clothes are all neatly picked up, sink stays empty of dishes, bed made every morning... basically, if you'd stepped into my place with no hint of what I did for a living, you'd assume I was ANYTHING BUT an exotic dancer.

But, the truth was what it was; I was a stud with nice buns, and I wiggled them for money. Like the idea, hate it... I don't really care. If you don't want to see it, then don't look - I don't have time for everyone else's idiosyncracies.

See, I know big words.

Rule Number One came to me after a particularly hot and heavy dance session with a client. One who was damn fine, herself - and when she offered herself up to me, I figured it would be okay this ONE time... and I was so very wrong. The bitch tried to sue me, then take me to court for child support - based on a LIE that I'd knocked her up - and continued to stalk me for a year or two before she finally found some other schmuck to make miserable.

Praise Celestia she did, too; I'd honestly been contemplating where to hide her corpse.

Rule Number Two was born from some of the nights I'd had to deal with 'occupational hazards' at the Saddle; beer bottles onstage to trip over, microphone wires that could trip OR shock you - depending on how cheap Dom had been with expenses - or even just the simple act of making sure the stripper pole was PROPERLY bolted to the stage.

Yeah, the old biddy whose lap I landed in loved it; I, on the other hand, most certainly DID NOT.

See, I don't like being touched. As a colt, my brothers made sure they were very physical with my upbringing; noogies, punches, kicks, swirlies, purple nurples, black eyes, bruises, et cetera... and that was the majority of my early years. Since then, I wasn't keen on being touched without expressing my permission first. Which I almost never gave.

Was it a lonely life? Eh, kinda. Really, I was okay being by myself... okay, but not really satisfied. But, with all the headache and hassle that a mare can be (plus the fact I don't swing to stallions), it's far easier on my peace of mind to simply keep to myself, not date, and just do the thing that pays the bills.

Rule Number Three was most certainly a result of Domino's 'finance techniques', as he was known for 'forgetting' to calculate out our tips for the night... just as we were known for reminding him about them. If he'd had his way, he probably would have paid us solely in food from the bar - IF he paid us at all!

I mean, the pay was what made me decide to take the job in the first place; scoff at the profession all you want to, but when you bring home that first three-thousand bit paycheck, it'll make you wonder why everyone wasn't doing it.

Rule Number Four is my personal reminder that, no matter how professional I have to be for a gig, when it comes to showtime, I need to make sure that I'M enjoying myself as much as my clients are. If they're happy with it or hate the fuck out of it, it doesn't matter; as long as I get my proper pay, there would be no issues... but if I had a good time doing my utmost best to entertain, then I usually got a tip of some sort.

Plus, fun for fun's sake is a good way to get through your work; the hours might be great, but a number of the actual minutes could be really fucking tedious. Might as well find the fun and have at it.

And Rule Number Five... well, it sorts speaks for itself, right? I mean, yeah - they are the customer, and they should be catered to... but seriously, there's lines in the sand, buddy; cross one, and I promise that you'll find out what farm colts do to those who act like they're entitled and snotty.

After all, I'll put up with a lot - but some shit you have to nip in the bud to keep it from fucking over anyone else's day. I don't give a shit WHO the fuck you are; push me too far, and you'll find out personally how strong a farm colt really is. No apologies.

Once I'd managed to put together those rules into a coherent form, everything else fell into place. The jobs kept coming, and it felt like I was spending every single day gyrating and grinding for the entertainment of everyone from just-out-of-school we're-not-fillies, to lonely housewives, to tourists, to grandmares who were a bit too old to even be thinking about strippers.

And I have always done my absolute best to make sure no customer walked away feeling cheated; my own reputation was spotless, and word on the street was that I was both reliable and professional... which, in this line of work, that word of mouth advertising is essential to any 'personal catering' business.

Because of my rules, the police don't usually harass me - I'm no prostitute, and they know it. Still, I occasionally get the random officer looking to get details from me about some of the shady shit that goes on around me. And every time, I shrug at him and smile dumbly... and it tends to work, more often than not. I'm no snitch.

But along with everything else, the main reason I decided to keep doing it was because it was ALL ME; no boss to report to, no co-workers to gossip at you, no administrators hanging over your shoulder... it was as free as could be. I got to decide on my own schedules, and any requests that felt hinky weren't even considered for a callback.

Yeah, maybe it wasn't the most glamourous of professions... but I was in charge of myself, and answered only to the same. I didn't have to concern myself with quarterly reports or copier breakdowns or 'casual Fridays'; all I had to do was bring my outfit, my radio and myself to every job, and I'd be paid beautifully within a few hours of workin' and twerkin'.

Honestly, I can't say my life is bad. Not at all. My own place, my own money, my own work hours... it's all at my beck and call, and it's all mine. How could anypony ask for anything more?

...
...
... well...

Okay, so there's still some issues to deal with.

Really, deep in my heart, I want to find the right mare - just like any other stallion (or so-inclined mare) out there would. And yeah, okay - I might be just picky enough to never find the Perfect Match. And fine, so I'm not exactly the easiest stallion to get along with - especially after being so independent for so long. And Manehattan isn't exactly the nation's capital for 'good, honest, pretty mares'; more like 'choose two adjectives and pray that they're sane'.

But maybe someday, I'll find what I'm looking for out there. She'll be sweet as sugar, honest to a fault and as pretty as the day is long, and she'll fall for me just as hard as I fall for her. We'll date, cozy up, snuggle and kiss... she'll be the kind that loves to kiss... and we'll end up living happily ever after... with foals... and a house with a white picket fence...

... yeah right. And dragons might fly out of my butt.

Anyhow, so there you go - a country stallion with big-city ambitions who shows his muscley flank to the ladies and gets paid handsomely for it. Sounds like a dream job, doesn't it? Like the sort of thing that every mare-seeking pone out there would easily fit into and make tons of bits while having a grand time, right?

Yeah - let me dispel that illusion for you.

Because I promise you, as much freedom as I have in this profession... I have just as many headaches and stresses as any other job out there. It's not all it's cracked up to be, and I've had a number of experiences with trouble and pain to prove it. Not only that, but there's always the fact that NOTHING is set in stone, NOTHING is foolproof and NOTHING ever goes exactly as planned.

Don't believe me about all that? Well, then read on - and allow me to enlighten you as to what sort of things I have to go through on a daily basis, in the pages of this 'diary' of an Earth Pony stripper. After you've seen the kind of shit I have to deal with, feel free to make your own decisions as to how you want to perceive my workload.

Just keep those five rules above in mind... and enjoy the show.

Author's Note

Trying my hoof at a bit of side tomfoolery; from time to time, I'll toss in a chapter here to offset my other stories - mostly so I don't get burned out doing the same thing, over and over. Plans currently include at least four more chapters - possibly more, if folks take a liking to it. But for the most part, this is more like a fluff piece I can work on to keep me from growing to loathe my own typical fare.

And yes, anthro - because to me, feral equines aren't my go-to for being sexy; others may decide on that for themselves, and that's fine for them. But for me, I think I have too much of an attachment to humanoid characteristics... and their appropriate locations on humanoid forms. So, to be clear, NOT hating on feral-fluffers... just not my thing, is all.

Yeah, Monty's a bit of a grumble-puppy, but he does his job, and knows what he's doing. Through the course of the story, keep those five rules in mind - because as it unfolds, he'll have to work hard to keep those simple rules from being broken like a Crystal Heart after a Royal Canterlot Wail from an alicorn foal.

Party of Six - Group Rate:

THE JOB: Birthday Party Surprise for a single client within a group of six mares, all just recently of age to engage in such things as strippers

THE PAY: Five-hundred bits

THE CLIENT(S): Rainbow Dash and Applejack, as a 'kind gesture' to their friend Fluttershy on her birthday

--==[X]==--

Rarity-4-U was one of the hottest clothing shops in Saddle Row, and had a reputation of being somewhere that was hip, elegant and entertaining. They had a live stage, an active kitchen/bar, and more clothes than you could shake a coathook at. The owner was a bonafide fashionista (whatever THAT meant), and was respected by almost every high-society type in the entire city.

And apparently, that's where my gig was supposed to be tonight.

Don't get me wrong, here - clothes are clothes. Honestly, in my profession, the more clothes, the better - it meant that there were probably a number of taboos and hang-ups about nudity that would make my presence even more exotic, and would certainly attract more attention. And tips.

The clients had contacted me about a week ago; it was a birthday party, and they were eager to find a studly stallion to surprise the birthday mare with - hence, yours truly. I gave them the rules, set up the appointment and got the gist of their plan; the old 'hot cop at the door for noise ordinance' routine. I'd done it before, and it was one of my more favored acts - I LOVED seeing that look of shocked, sweet surprise when the client not only discovered they WEREN'T in trouble, but they were about to get a great show.

I was told to expect six mares, so I was naturally eager to check the scene to make sure I would have a way out, just in case things went badly. It had only happened once or twice... but it wasn't a situation I'd wanted repeated. So, on a quick bus ride, I'd examined the location thoroughly, marking the visible entrances and the best, quickest way to the street AND the closest police station.

See Rule Number Two.

With that done, I stopped in at this little restaurant that had some of the BEST potato wedges I'd ever eaten, then took my leisure with wandering around a bit before it was time to do my thing.

Manehattan was BIG; the entire city may have been no bigger than most other metropolitan centers, but it LOOKED bigger; the skyscrapers towered over mare and stallion alike, their shadows playing across the huddled masses as those beneath their silent vigil continued about their days, numbed and oblivious to the majestic monoliths above them.

... damn. I'm getting all poetic and shit - sorry about that.

After a number of hours in wait, my cellphone buzzed with the client's message:

[WERE HERE - ALL IS READY]

I nodded to myself - they were doing what I'd asked of them, in this case - and made my way towards the nearby public restrooms. Yeah, changing into a cop uniform in a small stall wasn't exactly fun or easy - but the uniform was hot and itchy; I wasn't going to show up to my job smelling like I'd been working out before I arrived. So it meant I had to change right before the job.

Gotta admit - the old diamond dog playing chess by himself gave me quite a strange look when I entered the restroom as some average stallion, then emerged as a cop. He didn't say anything to me, however - just gave me a grin and a wink in passing. I had no idea what he might have been thinking, but whatever it was, he must have felt like he'd stumbled upon some sort of superspy.

Hey. That might make for a good routine; I'd have to work that one out later.

I made my way to the aforementioned clothing shop, and I could see the [closed] sign in the store window. From what the clients has said, there would be someone waiting for me to get there, and would let me inside when I knocked. All sounded routine and stress-free... so far, anyhow.

Reaching the front doors, I could hear the churning and bumping of club music from inside; they must have had quite a nice sound system, as I could feel each bass thump through the door while I stood there waiting. It made me wonder if, instead of my little (but loud) boombox, they might let me use their speakers for my show.

Gotta say, it lended authenticity to my cop routine - the music was loud enough that some of the passing folks on the street occasionally ended up bobbing their heads unconsciously to the beat, as if it was a subliminal message to groove. Club music always had a good, solid thump that was its' own metronome, and it was easy to keep time with.

Shit, maybe I wouldn't even need to use the boombox; I didn't actually mind the sound of the tune that was whumping away inside the place, and I could already feel my foot tapping to the bumping, grinding rhythm.

Through the door's glass, I saw a cute mare with a rainbow mane poke her head out from the back area and smile mischievously before making her way towards the door. Reaching it, she popped the lock before opening it wide to let me inside.

"Great! Ya made it," she said with a voice that sounded like she was almost straining to be loud, even though she was whispering. "Okay, so - the girls are all back here, but we're gonna bring 'em out this way, so you can, uh..." she waved a hand in the air noncommittedly, "do your stuff, okay? There's a stage in here, so all we gotta do is close the curtains and bring the others out."

She looked at me and gave an overexaggerated wink. "Heh, Flutters won't even know what hit her!"

Okay, the blue mare was kinda cute, in a sporty sort of way... but if that wink was any indicator, she was NO actor. But for some reason, she looked excessively familiar. And faces I recognize but can't name... well, they concern me. Mostly because I know I should know who this is... but for the life of me, I've got nothing.

So familiar, though...

Anyway, she led me towards the back, where we met up with another mare. This one looked closer to where I came from; muscular, sturdy, weather-worn and confident. The cowpoke hat was a nice touch, too.

"Alright, good," she said in an accent that was easy-going, comfortable and most definitely country, "we're all set ta go here; Shy's in th' back with Pinks, Rares and Twi - we're just gonna walk in there like we're as nervous as a clumsy foal with a basketful o' Zap Apples, an' ol' Monty here's gonna do his thang. Just get 'em out here in th' main area, an' you can git started whenever yer ready."

The two shared a glance; either they were both masters of prank-playing, or they were meeting later to have a little 'squish-and-tickle'. From the knowing look in their eyes, it was more likely the first one... which, if this was meant to be a prank, these two were probably the most devious members of this little glee club...

Wait. Pinks? Rares? Twi? Why did those names sound so damned familiar..?

At any rate, I shook myself to clear my expression and set the 'hardboiled' look into place on my muzzle; playing 'bad cop' was kind of fun, really... of course, it wouldn't be as much fun if I actually had to arrest anyone. Hence, why this was one of my favorite roles; authority always seemed to be a boost to my ego a bit, and I did look good in a uniform.

The mares told me to give 'em a minute as they 'set everything up properly', and went back into the main area of the shop. I took a moment to look around at a few of the designs on display. Now, I wasn't a clothes-horse or anything like that, but even I gotta admit that they were pretty good, as far as frilly, glittery fashion stuff went - not exactly my style, but I wasn't gonna hate on it; good work was good work, as my Pa used to say.

After roughly a five minute wait, the country mare came back and gave me a smirk. "Alright, you folla me - when we git in there, just do your thang, an' me an' Dashie'll play along right proper," she drawled as she turned and motioned towards the hall that led to the front.

Okay - on with the show.

Walking into the large-ish main room, the cowpoke mare put on a highly-convincing expression of worry and regret - even a little fear seemed to seep into her green eyes as she swept her view along the single table that had apparently been set up for the occasion. Light seemed to glint off the few scattered empty beer bottles that sat on the tabletop as conversation there came to a stop as the cowpoke's expression was noted.

"Uh, y'all? We got us a problem," she started, sounding both guilty and somewhat nervous, "'cause it seems like we got us another visitor, here. I don't, uh..."

She glanced at me nervously - DAMN, she was good! She almost had ME feeling sorry for her!

"... d-don't know whut ta say 'bout this. This's more embarrassin' than Granny Smith hangin' out mah unmentionables t'dry smack dab in the middle o' town," she said as she put on a deep, guilt-ridden blush.

"OH! Yeah, THAT SUCKS," the blue pegasus chimed in... and she was AWFUL. She obviously sounded as if she were reading from some cheesy-ass commercial script - and there would be NO WAY IN TARTARUS that any company would hire her for her acting skills... fuck, even calling that ham-fisted cadence 'acting' was an insult to the profession!

"I HOPE we DON'T have to GO to JAAAAIIILLLL..." she said in a drawn-out, 'oh-look-at-me' voice. Shit, she'd blow the whole thing if she kept fucking yammering! I had to step up before the jock ruined everything!

"Ma'am," I said in my best and most authoritive voice. And trust me, when a farm pone like me speaks up, folks listen. "I was called out here because there's been a number of complaints; I'm here to solve the problem."

Stepping past the cowpoke, I finally got a look at the 'client', as well as the other friends surrounding her.

TITS. HUGE BONGOS. BIG, BEAUTIFUL, BOUNCY AND BULGING BOOBS - SWEET LUNA'S PLOT, THEY WERE AMAZING!

The pegasus mare they were attached to, however, looked like she would try to hide behind them if I so much as said 'boo' in her general direction. She had a buttery yellow coat, and a long, luxurious pink mane that did that whole 'cover-half-my-face' thing which looked sexy as Tartarus. The lone teal eye that peeked back at me was filled with fear and shame; shit, I wanted to go and hug her almost immediately, to tell her it was all a gag, and that she would be all right...

That, and getting a squeeze between those gazongas would be pure bliss.

To her right was what looked to be one of those 'party girl' type of earth ponies; her expression was merry, her smile was bright and happy, and she seemed as if she were already having the time of her life. She was slightly chubby, but in that cute manner that made it work for her... not to mention gifting her with a nice, bouncy rack as well. The massive floof of her hot pink mane seemed to bounce along with the music - as well as the aforementioned jiggle-jugs. She gave me a wave, apparently oblivious of my being a supposed 'authority figure'.

On the other side was what had to be the practical definition of a 'classy lady'; she was exquisitely built - one of those figures that other stallions compared to flashy sports cars. A gorgeous muzzle, a lovely and perfectly styled violet mane and a sense of style in a casual silk pantsuit that seemed to hug every curve as if it were her lover. Frankly, unicorn mares like that were one of three types: stuck up and mean, control freaks, or the rare Real Stallion's Mare. This lovely vision looked like she might have fit in the third category... and she knew it.

And on the other side of the party gal was the 'out of place' one; obviously the smart type, the purple mare had a cute, trim little figure that fit well into the 'average' category... except for those long, lovely legs. Otherwise, she was dressed conservatively, yet efficiently - the pockets I could see were filled with papers, notes and other various writings. Her mane seemed to perfectly accent her horn and her wings to a-...

... Sweet Luna's Plot... AM I DANCING FOR THE MANE SIX!?!?

Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh - NOW I knew why I'd recognized them! They were the ones who held the Elements of freaking HARMONY!!! How did I NOT see that when I got the original order!? Was I blind, or just fucking STUPID!? They were here, ALL of them - Honestly, Loyalty, Generosity, Kindness, Laughter and Magic! The cute purple study-mare was the PRINCESS OF MOTHERFUCKING FRIENDSHIP!!!

Luckily, all of this took place ONLY inside my head; though I was freaking out internally, I kept up the cop act on the outside. The show must go on, after all - but now, I felt a nervous excitement at the idea that, after all they had done for Equestria, I was going to get the chance to thank them...

With my flanks of steel, heh.

"Oh, come now darling," the classy Rarity spoke up, "there's no need for trouble; I would be more than happy to turn down the volume of our speaker system, and I am dreadfully sorry if we disturbed anyone. Perhaps we did get a bit carried away, I suppose." She seemed like she really meant that, though the confidence she was trying to mask her worry with was rather thorough. I mean, I'd seen the like happen countless times, so she wasn't fooling me - but she wasn't bad at hiding her concern.

"It's a bit late for that, ma'am," I said in a disapproving tone, "as I said, I'm here to solve the problem."

The yellow mare gave a tiny squeak and seemed to fold in on herself a bit, which made her look even more adorable... and made her feisty funbags quiver with fear. I was starting to feel bad for making her afraid of me, but the resulting cleavage shot was MORE than wonderful to behold.

The alicorn princess (!!!) stood up hastily, almost tilting the table over in her rush to rise. "R-really officer, we just got carried away! We didn't mean to cause any trouble, a-and we promise we'll keep it down from now on! Please, there's not really a need to report this, is there? I m-mean, can't we simply discuss this?" She seemed as though she REALLY didn't want to get in any sort of trouble; seeing as how the rulership of Equestria was recently turned over to her, I figured she simply didn't want anyone to tell her teacher - the all-mighty Celestia - that she'd been a bad mare.

The wrong kind of stallion might be tempted to take advantage of that; good for her I wasn't an asshole.

The pink pone turned and put a comforting hand on Flutter~~boobs~~shy's shoulder. "It's okie dokie lokie, Shy! Don't worry, it'll be okay - the nice officer wouldn't put us in jail just for playing loud music, would he? If THAT was the case, I'd have been in there, like, a BAZILLION TIMES, as loudly as I sing!" She giggled, which made parts of her jiggle lusciously.

Honestly, I was surrounded by enticing, well-built mares; the feeling was both exciting and nervewracking, because since I knew who they were now, I'd be pushing myself to put on a grand performance. I mean, yeah - I'd seen my share of hot mares in my time, but to know they were bonafide HEROES, too? It looked like tonight was gonna be fun - for both parties, if the view was any indicator of what the night held for me.

Now, let me stop the complainers about 'chauvinistic mindsets' and make something perfectly clear; it may seem like I'm 'objectifying' mares by their looks, but come the fuck on - LOOK AT MY JOB. I get paid to let mares ogle me all night! You can't honestly sit there and judge ME for my thoughts when that's pretty much ALL the mares I work for do to me. Plus, it's not like I'm some kind of perv, looking to do nasty and wholly graphic things to them - I'm just admiring them as they admire me.

And they most certainly were admiring me.

Though there wasn't much of a visible reaction out of the cowpoke (Applejack, I think) or the athlete (the one 'n' only Rainbow Dash), it was obvious that the princess was a bit flustered, seeing the blush that rose into view on her cheeks each time she caught herself staring at me. And the classy one kept flicking her eyes at me, subtly giving my form a good look at her leisure. The pink one, I couldn't figure out - she was simply grinning from ear to ear, her eyes wide and expressive... and her stare was getting a little weird. And the busty yellow-coated sweetheart just kept her wide-eyed visage - but more out of fear than anything else, I figured.

"As I said," I continued in my most 'stern disapproval' voice, "I'm here to solve a problem..."

I stepped forward enough to make the mares seated at the table lean back just a bit, eyes curious and dread-filled.

"... and the problem is, this little party doesn't have enough STALLIONS," I smirked, "which is why I'm here, ma'am."

At that point, I brought my trusty boombox out from behind me and set it on the table, and pressed [PLAY] as I took a step back, my hands going to my shirt and beginning the show with the topmost button.

The moment the boombox came out, there was a decidedly different reaction from the table: Both Rarity and Twilight Sparkle (PRINCESS Twilight, you dope!) seemed stunned for a moment - but the alabaster beauty figured it out quickly, and the worry and hesitation in her eyes became a surprised amusement. Pinkie Pie jumped up (boingboingboing) and gave a cheer... admittedly, not the first cheer I'd ever gotten, but certainly among the most exuberant. Fluttershy (of the massive chesticles) didn't really change her expression much - but now there was a cute little blush to go with her wide-eyed stare.

"Applejack? Rainbow?" Twilight spoke up, "Was this YOUR idea?"

The cowpoke laughed and tilted her hat up at the brim. "Darn tootin'! We both figured y'all might 'preciate a little extra treat fer t'night's lil' get together, so me an' Dashie went in together on this feller!"

"Yeah, we wanted to make sure you got the best we could find - and we did!" Rainbow bragged on my behalf, "I mean, c'mon... look at him!"

To emphasize her point, I popped the last button free and yanked the uniform shirt back, thrusting out my chest and striking a pose that was decidedly risque`; I knew when to mug for the audience, and this looked like the perfect opportunity to do so.

The action got their attention, and made the Princess of Friendship gulp nervously. You gotta love the reserved ones; so shy, yet so eager to witness and/or experience. She'd be fun to watch tonight.

As my own boombox began to crank out one of my favorite songs, I started with my hips. Mares usually get their knickers in a twist just over the slab o' meat that stallions have in their drawers, but having a flexible pair of hips can bring 'em all to heel in a heartbeat, as long as you know how to work it.

I started swinging my grade-A flank from side to side, winding up into a rocking rhythm that made the mare's eyes swing like pendulums, following the sway of my rump as I began to work myself into the proverbial zone, the beat filling my ears and head. Each step was sure, each twist was planned out, and each smouldering glance and fetching smile were carefully planned for maximum effect as I began to woo them with my wily ways.

The danger obviously forgotten, the group of them stared to pay quite a lot of attention to my dance as I stared making my way around the place, using a number of different 'props' to accent my show; I slid my arms along the standing platforms occupied by displays of frilly and colorful outfits, used one of the sturdier clothing racks to slink around sensually and eventually made my way towards that conveniently-available stage I saw.

From the sounds and conversations I was catching in fits and spurts, it sounded like they were all duly impressed with my show - all but Fluttershy, whose eyes were still as big as saucers, yet she didn't say a single word. Even when Pinkie was talking in her ear about who knew what, she barely even blinked.

Normally, it'd be supremely creepy... but from the shy mare with the titanic tetons? It was unabashedly cute.

Rainbow Dash seemed to enjoy cheering me on, as she seemed to be getting a lot of laughs off it. She may have almost blown the entire act, but for what it was worth, she certainly made up for it with encouraging shouts and all-in-fun catcalls. Frankly, I got the impression that she was doing her part to help the festivities along... and she DAMN sure wasn't going to let her 'investment' go unappreciated. Of all the mares gathered here, her eyes were on me the least... but she still looked, all the same.

Applejack, the country cowpone, didn't say much; she simply sat back in one of the chairs with a bit of a smug look on her muzzle, as if she'd been the mastermind of the entire shebang. For all I know, she HAD been; the pegasus athlete wasn't exactly known for her brains like Princess Twilight was.

Speaking of which, that poor mare seemed like she was a bit overwhelmed by it all. Her eyes kept caressing my form appreciatively, yet she blushed and looked away whenever I made eye contact with her. The brainiacs were always fun to tease, and the fact she was a real, honest-to-Celestia princess made it twice as fun to make her ruby blush darken to crimson, over and over again.

Really, though - Rarity. Damn, but she was just as beautiful as I'd heard she was! But even with her self-control and sense of dignity, I saw her peeking at me a number of times - especially when I was shaking my groove thing; she seemed to like my flank, which suited me just fine. That pantsuit did a marvelous job of making her curves stand out, while keeping her lady-like appearance; if she'd made it herself, I could see why her shop was a hit. Maybe she'd tip well; if this store was any indication, she could spare it.

Of course, I'd have to EARN it - which I had every intention of doing.

As I gathered myself onto the risen stage, five of the girls all sort of meandered their way over - with Twilight having to be nudged in the right direction by her blue pegasus friend. Pulling chairs from the table they'd set up, they surrounded me along the stage's edge, and each one was watching me with their own level of intensity.

Well, I'd managed to surprise them, had given them a taste of the forthcoming show and got onstage to do what I did best, so it was time to let myself go into FULL Party Mode, and really wow these heroes.

See Rule Number Four. Damn it, if I was gonna work, I was gonna have fun doing it.

"Now, we ain't s'posed to touch 'im," Applejack mentioned, "but if'n ya feel like it, y'can give 'im permission ta touch YOU; he promises he'll be a gentlecolt, so ain't nuthin' ta worry about."

I was glad she'd brought that up; I was in no mood to deal with misunderstandings, and was relieved she remembered my rules. From the look of the gathered estrogen here, my money was on either Pinkie Pie or Princes Twilight to be the ones most likely to violate the 'no touchee' rule; party gals always thought it was okay, and desperate, physically-starved eggheads were likely to lose their minds in the right circumstances.

Either way, it was STILL a hard 'NO' for tonight's festivities; heroes or not, 'no touchee' meant 'no fucking touchee'... but touching THEM, with permission, could be fun. I didn't just grab tits or anything like that; mares responded better to light caresses and tantalizing touches - thighs, arms, shoulders, manes; as long as my touch was gentle and sensuous, most clients rather enjoyed the idea. I'd laid my hands on PLENTY of females - just in more of a sensual manner than a sexual one.

Sure enough, of those gathered, permissions were put forth by four of the six present; Pinkie Pie (excitedly), Rarity (demurely), Applejack (curiously) and Princess Twilight (adorkably nervously). As it stood, Rainbow seemed to be just fine with watching... and Fluttershy was STILL locked into some sort of paralysis, simply staring at me as I continued to work the stage.

A shame, really - pegasi fur was always a little extra fluffy; I'd just have to imagine those blue and yellow coats and their supposed level of softness.

By now, I was in full swing with my routine; I'd managed to strip my way down to my bright red speedo... and yes, I most certainly had their attention. I mean, I wasn't lacking at all in that department; I had a considerable asset between my thighs, and I knew how to make it juke and jive in that barely-there red fabric.

A few more minutes onstage, and I decided to make my way towards them to make good on this promised permission I'd been given. Part of me was elated at the idea I'd actually be able to touch the lovely lasses who'd saved Equestria more times than we all really ever knew. I HAD to do this right; they deserved it.

I started with Applejack - after all, she was paying for at least 50% of my services, so I reasoned that she certainly deserved some attention. Plus, she seemed cool about it, but I could tell she was quite curious as to what it would be like. Oh, she was in for a treat...

As I made my way over to her chair, she took a sip on what seemed to be a wooden mug of cider - now, I LOVED cider, but I didn't drink on the job; work was work, and play was play... and anytime the two mixed with cider, there was usually something dumb and painful about to happen to me. But as long as they all behaved themselves, I didn't mind my clients getting a taste of the Goofy Juice.

I started with a close lean-in, steadying myself on the arms of her chair as I brought my muzzle inches from her face. It was a bit weatherbeaten - as expected of one who did farm work - but she was still quite a looker. Those muscles might have sent other, lesser stallions off on their way, but I was a farmer too, once; I wasn't intimidated in the least by her obvious strength.

No... I was intimidated by the fact that I was dancing sexy for the Element of Honesty.

She gave a throaty chuckle as I ran my hands down her arms, giving them a squeeze as I did - it was like massaging rocks, they were so well-toned! Then, once reaching her hands, I thrust my chest forward until it was a hair's breadth from her muzzle and lifted a leg onto the chair's arm. Once in position, I began to thrust my hips at her, moving to the beat issuing from my small (yet powerful) boombox. And as for the aforementioned member in my speedo, he was managing to sway along, coming mere inches from the cowpoke's muzzle.

The orange mare gave a bit of a blush, but she didn't turn away - in fact, her eyes seemed to appreciate me considerably, though her body language was totally relaxed. There was certainly some interest there - I simply figured she was trying to be 'reserved' in front of her friends, so she wasn't giving much of a reaction on the surface.

But I'd seen SO many mares and how they reacted to me; it wasn't hard for a pro like me to catch the elevated breathing, the light flush on her cheeks and (muscular, yet considerable) chest, the lazy smile that hid the light ribbon of desire I could see in her expression.

No, she wouldn't fall all over me... but she might have something new to churn her own butter over, tonight.

"Yo, AJ - enjoying the view?" the blue pegasus called out, razzing the earth pony as she continued to watch the show in front of her, my swinging 'nanner hammock coming very close to contact with her muzzle with each thrust in her direction - but no touchee. Nope.

"Eeyup," she casually drawled, "an' provin' that I ain't 'fraid o' no stallion's tools in mah face - unlike certain sporty pegasi who ain't got the guts ta try it fer themselves!" She sat back a bit more and took another pull from her mug, grinning smugly while Rainbow Dash affected a chagrined look that made her all sorts of pouty and cute.

Meanwhile, I'd now turned around and, with my best ASSets right in front of her, I began to swing and sway accordingly. From where I was, I could turn my head to look back and shoot a sultry look at her while I continued to bob my rump in her face. On her part, the farm pone tilted her hat back and smiled broadly as I went to work right in front of her.

"WOO-HOOO!" Pinkie cheered, "Shake that moneymaker! Make AJ want to take you home tonight!"

"Ain't hap'nin', Pinkie," she chuckled, "but I got half a mind ta take a photo 'r' two, that's fer certain!"

Photos cost extra, for the record... but as I saw no cameras in sight, I took it as a jest. I continued to work myself around the mare, and eventually ended up seating my buns in her lap, rolling and sliding around on her hips and waist as the song changed to one that was a bit more risque`; the playlist I'd set up was meant to slowly build as it went on, eventually becoming nothing more than a bump-n-grind beat while I served the clients.

She may have been playing it tough before, but now the farmer looked as if she were sweating a little bit. Her eyes were glued to my posterior now, and she gave a nervous smile as I wiggled my ass in her lap and flashed her my best 'you're the only mare in the world' half grin.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, she'd also dropped her mug to the floor, the contents leaving a nice-sized puddle at the foot of her chair - more about that in a bit.

Once I'd worked Applejack into a bit of a panting stare, I leaned in and gave the tip of her snout a boop with my finger; it made her blink, and set the blue peg to laughing as I then chose to move on to the next one in line. The country mare smiled sheepishly as she took off her Stetson and fanned herself with it a bit.

Hot 'n' bothered - best recipe for great tips.

As I made my way to her seat, Pinkie's smile threatened to meet in the back, causing her fool head to fall off. How she was so irrevocably chipper was beyond me; I'd known a few mares who smiled a lot, but they had NOTHING on the grill of shiny white teeth that greeted me as I stepped up to her seat.

"Oooooooooh! Goody goody!" she said as she clapped her hands together, "This is gonna be FUN!"

Okay, the line was encouraging, but the way her eyes just seemed to bore through me was a tad unnerving. All the same, a job was a job, and she seemed eager for me to get to work. Besides, if she broke Rule Number Two by touching me, I could always just leave - it might be a waste of time if I wasn't paid full price, but I had my boundaries... it was up to my clients to respect them.

She giggled in anticipation as I slunk up to her and, with a playful smirk on my own face, I placed my hands on her knees and began to walk my fingers up her thick thighs, headed towards her little pooch of flab that suited her well. Chubby but cute was most certainly a thing, and Pinkie Pie had that thing in spades; she was bouncy in ALL the right ways and places, and I entertained the notion that, if she ever DID decide to seduce someone, she might be able to surprise just about ANYONE with how sultry a wiggly bust could be.

Seriously, they'd have to be a statue not to react.

Here, though - she was already giggling as my fingers tickled their way all the way up to the crotch of her jean shorts - but not actually ON her loins, as the enticement was always far better than just grabbing something to play with. From there, I slid my hands around where her precious mound would lie, and instead I sent my fingertips to massage that belly a little bit.

Not only was she soft there, but she was also apparently a bit ticklish, as she tittered with giggles while I kneaded her little bit of belly fat like it was cake dough. "Hee hee hee hee hee! Monty, how did you know I was ticklish!?" she replied as she fought to keep her hands down, gripping the arms of her chair in resistance as I continued.

Okay, this was kinda fun, I admit - making mares smile was one thing; making them laugh felt good... but, as an afterthought, how did she know my real name?

Pinkie suddenly jumped up and out of her chair, going OVER my head and landing deftly on the floor behind me - what the fuck, was she some kind of party ninja!? I gawked a bit, admittedly; it wasn't every day you saw such acrobatics performed right in front of you!

Laughing, she batted her eyelashes at me. "Oh, Monty - you look like you're having so much fun! I think I wanna dance too!"

And with that, she grabbed her tank top in the front and whisked it away, revealing two large, buoyant and rather bouncy breasts with puffy, wide nipples that almost completely covered the front of each one. She bounced them up and down a bit in demonstration, then began to rock and sway her own sizeable hips to my boombox's beat.

Wow - chubby or not, the mare had some fire under that flab! And now, with a smirk that couldn't be beaten on her muzzle, she began to try to match my own moves. I picked up quickly on it, and started moving myself in an easy pattern to follow - which she did, rather closely.

Soon, the two of us were both dancing together - never actually touching, but between my schlong-sling and her titanic titties, we made quite a spectacle of ourselves. Plus, I gotta admit - I was enjoying the show from the Element of Laughter as much as the mares were enjoying mine. I mean, she was cute, bouncy and the kind of chubby that I could see myself nuzzling up to every night.

She laughed and kept time perfectly, matching me move for move, for a good five minutes or so as we sort of improvised a dance that was both innocent and pretty raunchy. Of her friends, Rainbow, Applejack and Rarity all cheered her on (Rarity with more of a golf-clap than anything), while Princess Twilight's blush threatened to eat her alive.

Fluttershy (and her two large friends in her sweater) continued to just STARE at me while I worked; I'm not even sure she was blinking properly, and it was starting to get a bit unnerving. Pinkie's escapades helped me keep my mind off the unsettling sight of the yellow pegasus' full-bore stare of utter fascination... but it made me wonder if there wasn't some sort of hypnosis going on somehow, as if my butt had cast a spell on her.

No seriously - any other stallion being stared at like that would have probably called the cops by now.

As Pinkie seemed to end up dancing off to one side (which, ain't that a riot, Rainbow Dash was watching quite closely), I slowly slunk my way over towards the exquisite form and figure of the lovely Rarity. There were tales told among the streets about her beauty, but in the actual horseflesh, she was FAR more elegant and regal than anyone had ever prepared me for.

Those eyes, a beautiful and bold blue, took their time wandering across my own peaks and valleys - and lingered for just a second or two longer on a certain, specific peak - as I reached her chair and slid down to my knees in front of her. Sure enough, the gesture seemed to spark a light in her gaze; classy mares LOVED it when others bowed before them, and I had figured that she would react well to such a move.

When she gave those full lips a subtle yet playful lick, I knew I'd been right.

Starting at her delicate ankles, I slowly slid my fingers in whorls and circles across her fur as my hands travelled up and down her shins, then to her knees and waist, where her breathing picked up audibly... yet, as I touched nothing too personal, there was no protest as things rolled along.

My fingers eventually slid along her sides, then around to her arms, and up them both towards her long purple ma-

"*A-HEM*... no."

... shoulders, where I massaged just a bit before lightly caressing her jawline as I leaned in close enough to kiss... yet all I did was flash her my most charming smile and slink backwards, before turning with a grand gesture and presenting my backside for perusal and approval. And if the lady's act was all regal and civil, her eyes were ravishing me with abandon as I did my thing to the beat of the music.

At one point, the alabaster mare did raise a hand in my direction... but, with a naughty smirk, she simply used it to brush back a lock of her elegant mane to get a better view of me - though, from her seat, she had the best view in the whole house. Shop. Whatever.

Look - I've seen a LOT of mares, but it wasn't very often I saw one who was as lovely as this one; I... maaaaaaaay have stared at those gorgeous legs and hips a bit as I shook my saddle-hitch. Come on, though - legs that long and luxurious should be lined in kisses every day, in my humble opinion. Not to mention other places of hers I'd like to kiss...

But Rule Number One held fast. Besides, the classy ones never really hit on me much; I was the 'hired help' to most, and 'an entertaining distraction' to others. Frankly, I hoped I never found out which one Rarity was; I'd settle for her finding me interesting, and letting it go at that.

Pinkie, giggling, bounced up in front of me and began to wobble those massive funbags in my face as I shook my rump for her friend. If I haven't said it before, party gals are fun - and Pinkie Pie, the ultimate party gal, was being fun for ME. And believe me, I thoroughly appreciated it!

Now, her friends? Well, Rainbow Dash didn't seem to mind (bet she's at least bi-curious), and Applejack seemed to take it as 'that's just Pinkie for ya'. Rarity seemed to accept the behaviour well enough, though she did tend to keep Pinkie on the other side of the large purple swirl of mane that cascaded down from her head. The princess' eyes had gone wide and she'd sputtered a bit, which was fun; once she'd gotten back to watching me, she'd sort of lost track of her bouncy, jouncy pink friend.

Fluttershy hadn't moved. Hadn't spoken. Hadn't even BLINKED, as far as I'd seen. Now, I was getting worried - did I break her? I mean, stunning clients was one thing... but I didn't mean to give her brain a meltdown over me!

Okay, yeah - points for me - but it was still a bit disconcerting.

And so, with three down, I moved onto the bashful little princess. Oh, and she saw me coming - the prim and proper part of her was shivering a little bit and trying her best to sit up straight in her chair, as if she'd be graded on her posture. There was a line of sweat that was running from her forehead, and her eyes were both filled with sheer dread and practically vibrating with excitement.

Gotta love virgins.

When I reached her chair, I decided to play a bit of a game with her. I mean, fun is fun, right? And the cop act allowed me for some off the CUFF jokes that might put her at ease.

Yeah yeah, groan all you want to; you're not telling this story - I am.

"Princess Twilight Sparkle," I purred in my huskiest, deepest voice, "you have the right to remain aroused. Anything you see on me can be held against you, in accordance with your wishes. You have the right to observe me; if you cannot continue to observe me, an observer may be chosen for you... but you'd be missing out, ma'am."

Roses blossomed on those sweet purple cheeks, and her pupils contracted a bit; rotten jokes or not, she certainly seemed to like it.

Pinkie laughed at my shenanigans, as did Rarity and Applejack. Rainbow Dash, however, had discovered Fluttershy's vapid stare, and was now looking her over in confusion, waving a hand in front of her face at one point. No reaction. Maybe the blue mare could figure out what I couldn't?

Regardless, the show must go on.

I decided to give the ruling princess of Equestria the best show I could, and started such by sitting right in her lap, facing her with a come-hither smile fixed onto my muzzle as my eyes sank into her own, drawing her in like a magnet. Once I knew I had her undivided attention, I began a slow and lazy side-to-side sway, letting the contents of my red speedo caress her upper thighs while my tuchus bounced along her knees.

This sort of positioning was a bit uncomfortable for me, yeah - but the resulting gasp of surprise, combined with the barely audible panting my actions brought forth, made the poor thing look so thirsty for a tall, cool drink of me. Totally worth the effort, I think. I mean, if you're gonna dance sexy for a princess, you'd better have them panting like they're in heat; that's what they pay for, after all.

I could see her hands gripping the arms of her chair like they were trying to strangle them. Her other surrounding friends all wore matching looks of smug enjoyment as they watched the obvious greenhorn (no pun intended, that time) of the group get herself some sensual entertainment.

Now, I was admittedly feeling the groove - hard not to when you're wrapped up in what you're doing. Sliding forward, I gently placed a hand on the back of the alicorn's head and gingerly leaned forward, bringing her muzz into the fuzz of my chest floof and slowly moving from side to side, rocking her effectively. As I'd hoped, she took the bait and actually nuzzled against my barrel...

Which actually felt really nice. Seriously, somewhere inside, I smiled at that simple little action - of all the touches I allowed upon myself, I gotta say that the sweetest, most innocent ones are a hundred times better than the sexy ones. They make you feel better too, like you just helped someone who needed that contact.

Princess Sparkle came across as someone who craved that contact.

I lowered my head, bringing my face toward hers slowly and building up as if I was going to give her a kiss that would curl her feathers... but at the last moment, I quickly stood up off her lap and gave her a flash of my buns as I whirled around her, working my way back along the route of chairs I'd taken.

The music was rocking hard, I was in the zone, and my clients were enjoying the show thoroughly - Pinkie's joggling juggies kept waving in my peripheral vision, and even Applejack and Rarity seemed to be getting a bit heated with all this testosterone in the air around them.

Once I reached Applejack's chair, I figured it was time for the reveal - the cannon was coming out, the pillar presented for perusal, the dragon freed from its cave... blah blah blah, you know the words. Insert your favorite phrase for flashing a schlong HERE.

I planted my feet and gripped the left side of the speedo in hand, ready to whip it off at the next bass drop in the techno tune my boombox was cranking out. Now, when I pulled, I was going to put a good bit of force in that pull, so the speedos would come right off me and release their heavy load unto the world.

Remember that puddle of cider? Yeah, that's where my right foot was - and I didn't even notice I'd stepped into something wet, as my body was on the music while my brain was on the gathering of hot bodies in front of me. When the right moment came along, I gave the speedo a jerk to yank it free of my hips.

And in the process, my foot slipped backwards in the puddle as I literally pulled myself off my own feet.

Thankfully, I hit the floor on my hip and NOT on my junk, as that would have killed the mood instantly. But the bad part was, I'd landed on my hip. That meant I'd feel it tomorrow for sure... as well as feeling it tonight.

For what it was worth, five mares all jumped up to help me when they saw me go down like that... however, I'm a veteran of a number of spills, trips and falls; I simply struck a pose where I'd landed (owowowowow) and gave them a smile that tried to say 'I meant to do that' (owowowowow). I stretched a leg upwards from my prone position (owowOWowow) and shot them all a wink and a low chuckle.

And THEN, from the safety of the floor, I yanked my speedo off.

There are a number of mares today who insist that females were meant to be looked at, while males were meant to do the looking. Mares were curvy, they said, to attract attention for mating purposes - which seemed to mean (to them) that mares weren't supposed to find anything about a stallion to be attractive enough to pay the same sort of attention to.

Those mares had never laid eyes on my veiny warrior, either - and at the rate they kept putting us studs down, they never would. The mares in front of me, however, were MORE than happy to oblige the idea of complete fairness in this sort of situation; how noble of them all.

Now, they wore looks that matched the buttery yellow pegasus' expression.

Am I bragging needlessly? No, not really - I stand pretty damned tall, and I'm fairly big and broad, as I've explained. Well, the stack between my legs follows suit - and to this day, I have never had a complaint about THAT part of my performance. In fact, that's the part that most likely comes up in rumours and office conversations - not the dancing, not the jokes, but the dong.

Say what you want to; some mares want it just as bad - if not more - than stallions do.

Six sets of eyes were all staring unashamedly at my meatpole... okay, so five unashamedly, and one alicorn princess.

Pinkie Pie gave a low whistle, and Rarity couldn't seem to look away from it. Even Dash was staring at this point - it was most likely they'd either never seen one that size before, or they had just never seen one before. With as famous as they were, I doubted they were ALL virgins.

"Gracious, a-are they ALL that size?" Rarity asked with a voice hushed in awe as the rest of them simply stared.

... okay, I might have been wrong about the virgin thing I just said.

I slowly stood myself up from my, uh... 'surprise prone positioning', let's call it. Though my hip was twinging, I hid my cringing from my clients as I resumed my earlier dancing... but with a teensy bit less flexibility than before (owowow). I made up for it with a range of smiles, winks and sultry expressions that I knew did wonders for other mares.

Fluttershy continued to stare - but I was starting to phase her out of the equation; she wasn't reacting otherwise, and didn't give permission to touch her. I simply decided she would be the wallflower all night, then go home and write about it in some sort of girly diary she kept under her mattress. I've known the type. Weird, but ultimately harmless.

And you can wipe that smirk off your mug - this AIN'T no girly diary.

By now, the music from my little (but loud) boombox was starting to wind into the heavy part of the set - usually where I already had my club sandwich out, and my clients were already feasting their eyes. Yeah, maybe they didn't have any sense of the words 'eye contact' right then, but it was fair play; it was pretty fucking hard (heh) to keep my eyes off of those pillowy pink puppies bouncing freely around my performance.

I'll bet they're so damned soft...

Now that the star of the show had arrived, I went into a bit of overdrive (owowow) and did my best to swing and sling my thing for all to see. Watching the mares' eyes following my hip movements was funny, but I actually almost lost my shit when I saw that look of 'having a fantasy' slip across the princess' muzzle, her eyes half-lidding and a distant, almost orgasmic smile as she zoned out on whatever virgin princesses dream of.

Of course, when I whipped my hips sideways (OW) suddenly, it made Mr. Monster below waggle rather actively - THAT brought the alicorn back to reality in a hurry, not to mention the wide-eyed stare-and-gulp that came from Applejack. Interesting... maybe she was the dog-type, and liked wagging tails?

At any rate, I'd managed to really bring some heat into the room, as I was actively observing Rule Number Four (with just a touch of ow on the side) and receiving the adoration of the other mares present; they were loving the show, and I was happy to bring it to them. They were heroes; they had risked themselves again and again for pones they didn't even know - like me.

This? Seeing the actual smiles on their lovely muzzles was a wonderful sensation. I mean, shit, even us jaded strippers have a heart in there somewhere, and even if my method of thanking them wasn't exactly conventional... it was coming across, all the same. They appreciated this break from what had to be busy and possibly difficult worlds of their own to tackle, and I was sure that this was something they didn't just need as an escape, but as a chance to bond with each other.

I felt pretty damned good to be a part of that.

Okay, a lot of folks always say that old chestnut 'lightning never strikes twice', right? Well, that's bullshit, and I'm here to defuse that reflex phrase right now, because lightning goddesses-damned well CAN strike twice - or at least, apple cider can.

By now, I'd been doing my thing for a moment or three, and the girls all had their chairs at least a little wet, I reckoned by their expressions and looks. I knew the end of my current playlist was coming to a close - had it been that long already? - and started to slink my way over towards where it was positioned on the table they'd started out at.

By this point in time, I knew that puddle that had (ow) brought me so much joy tonight was soaked up and/or evaporated by now, so I had zero qualms about moving along a similar route as I'd taken before. I knew there was nothing wet to slip on, and had so much confidence in the idea that I kept my gaze on the ladies as I moved along.

That cider had dried up, yeah... but loose wooden cider steins don't dry up. Unfortunately.

My foot came down on it, and it promptly made me roll forward with the unexpected change in momentum. I watched the room tilt crazily as I tried to keep my feet, but managed only to swivel myself and land on my OTHER hip. Which not only started to ache (owowOWOWOW), but got the other side hurting again (owowOWowow), which was just fucking peachy.

And having your dick slap against the floor wasn't pleasant, either.

Now THIS fall, I couldn't hide; five mares, pretenses forgotten, all jumped up and made their way over to where I was, but I held up a hand that stopped them. "No, no, I'm... okay," I lied, doing an award-winning acting job of not showing the level of pain I was feeling. "Happens all the time."

I turned myself (ow), got to my knees (ow) and put my hands on the floor to attempt to get my foolish body into a standing position... and that's when I heard it. A voice that was thick with hunger, a deep-throated NEED to quench the desire that exploded from within:

"MAMA WAAAANT!"

Suddenly, there was the sound of a table being knocked over from behind me, and I felt the unmistakable sensation of a pair of hands - grabbing my fucking ass! My head swiveled like it was on a spring to see what the living FUCK had just happened behind me.

From my current position, I had my posterior up in the air and exposed; firmly latched onto my rock-hard buttcheeks were two delicate, yet firmly gripping yellow hands. Above those were a pair of enormous water balloons stuffed into a blue cashmere sweater, and behind those was the face of a mare who has just realized she's done something horribly wrong.

Those big, shock-filled teal eyes slowly looked up at me... and an embarrassed grin worked it's way onto her muzzle.

"... um... o-oh dear... eeep."

--==[X]==--

"Honest, sir, ah am SO sorry about all o' that," Applejack said meekly as she handed over the last few bits of my pay, "but she ain't normally that way, I swear to it! We've all had a bit o' drink t'night, an' we're ALL awfully sorry, Mister Monty."

Behind her stood the athlete, who looked like she genuinely felt bad that I'd stopped my show the very moment I'd been grabbed - but as I've stated before, I have to give permission to be touched... and I don't play that shit. Birthday Mare or not, 'no touchee' means 'no MOTHERFUCKING touchee'!

Next to her was the princess, whose ears were flattened against her head as she watched me preparing to leave. I felt bad for HER, because she was the one who'd seemed like she needed this the most. Stodgy and straight-laced, she'd been really just keeping her libido cooped up in that brainy head of hers; I'd given her a chance to let it out to play, and she'd liked it.

But facts were facts: My hips hurt, my ego was deflated, I was irritated and I just wanted to get paid and go home for the night. I'd made an absolute mess of trying to do a great job with this, and in front of the Mane Six to boot. Shit, I didn't show it, but I felt like trash after such a pathetic showing, and even though my line was crossed, I STILL felt bad for leaving like this.

But listen - in this day and age? You've gotta stick by your guns when it comes to your own personal preferences; NO means NO, and that goes for stallions as well as mares. Sure, the mares mercilessly groping on the young buck may look like fun in the movies, but believe me that it gets old fast, and it never seems to end, once females get away with it once or twice. They may think it's cute; FUCK those bitches, because they make sexual assault and unwanted advances sound like a joke.

Yeah, that's NOT what happened here, I know; give me SOME credit, shit.

I took the money - bit bills, for convenience - and popped them into my fake cop uniform's chest pocket. I wasn't going to count them in front of the customer... and besides, if I couldn't trust the Element of Honesty, I was a paranoid dumbass.

"Thanks," I muttered as I turned to walk away.

"L-listen," Princess Twilight spoke up from behind me, "tonight was a lot of fun for us... and we wanted to make sure you knew that your show was, uhh..." she blushed brightly, "very... s-skillful! Yes! A-and I'm sure we'd all be happy to spread your name around a bit... if you'd like that?"

Word of mouth advertisement from the Mane Six.

... OH TARTARUS YES.

"Sure," I said as I glanced back over my shoulder at the three of them, "that'd be great. And I'm sorry I-"

"Nope," Applejack held up her hand to stop me, "we get it - an' yer well within yer rights ta head on out. B'sides, we got a great show, and we'd be pleased as punch ta get th' word out about ya."

"Yeah, hey, I know a few mares who could use a dose of Monty, here," Rainbow smiled, "besides, there's always Spitfire's birthday; I'm pretty sure she'd enjoy the view - and WHOA, what a view!"

Okay, that helped a bit. Part of it, I knew, was just them trying to cheer me up... but they meant it, too. I'd heard that dealing with the Elements usually left you feeling pretty good. Well, unless you were one of the baddies they'd pummeled with rainbow lasers.

They all gave me a wave as I headed out of the alleyway, towards where I'd be-

"U-um... e-excuse me."

Oh? What was this?

Fluttershy's form and figure were hard to hide; even standing around the corner of the back alley dumpster, there was no mistaking the two ushers she had in front of her that greeted others before they could see her face. If they bothered looking. The lone pink lock that obscured her eye trembled as she nervously brushed it aside for a moment, to get full eye contact with me.

"I, er, w-wanted to... ap-p-pologize for what happened, um... back there. I simply c-c-couldn't, um... couldn't help myself. A-and I'm sorry for that, Mister Monty; I had no idea that one beer could do that to, um... t-to me. But that doesn't excuse my behavior, and I wanted to be sure I t-told you that before you left."

She gave a light, full-~~booby~~body shiver as she seemed to force herself to face me directly. "And I w-wanted to... t-to... to... oh, dear..." Her expression was full of anxiety and worry; there was NO way I'd be sleeping soundly tonight if I yelled at this sweet and kind individual.

If it had been a grab from an entitled-feeling mare, or a don't-give-a-fuck drunkard, or even just a gal looking to play it off as harmless, then the conversation with this mare would have already been over... but Fluttershy had simply gotten too carried away, and she didn't seem the least bit angry at me for ending early.

"Yeah, no, I get it," I said reassuringly as my hips reminded me that I wanted to sit down soon, "and no hard feelings. For the record though, I'd have thought YOU would be the last one to ever do anything like that, ma'am."

Now, she looked down and blushed hotly. "W-w-w-well... I wanted to... t-to offer you some, um... c-compensation, too... since I, uh, d-did such a thing to you, I felt that... w-well, I thought... o-oh, goodness..."

With her mouth unable to properly put forth the words she was trying to say, she simply reached down with both hands and lifted her shirt up, allowing her huge breasts to drop down into full, unobscured view.

GODDESS-DAMN.

"... I know you were looking; a l-lot of stallions look, a-and I just... I thought that, since I... oh dear... th-that this would be... umm, appropriate?" Her expression then took on a bit of a fearful edge. "Y-y-you... y-you... you can t-touch them, if you w-want to. It would o-only be fair."

Poetry of the highest quality, made into the softest, sweetest flesh I had ever laid my eyes on - and I have seen a LOT of tits in my time and profession. These incredible heavenly bodies were the pinnacle of the female breast, and were crowning examples of marehood and motherhood. Round, firm, flawless... and neat, tiny nipples that made the boob around them seem that much bigger by comparison.

Somewhere in my mind, I wished I was a foal again, because I'd do nothing but pig-out all day long on those massive mammaries... they were perfection made into soft, jiggly flesh that was on full display, only an arm's length away from me.

I lifted my hand, slowly reached out...

... and patted her on the head, her eye-peeking lock bobbing lightly as I did.

"I appreciate that," I said softly with a small smile, "but you wouldn't appreciate it. And I respect that more than you know. As for your 'presentation'... tell you what, we'll call it even. You want me for another party sometime, feel free to gimme a call; we'll call this 'cider under the bridge', so long as you don't tell anyone about my trip-ups, deal?"

She gave a small yet relieved grin as she slowly lowered her shirt (boooooooobs! come baaaaaaaack!) and fixed me with a slightly nervous, but kind look. "Th-thank you, Mister Monty."

As I turned and began to hobble away (ow), I smiled to myself. "No problem... and happy birthday," I told her as I made my way out into the streets of Manehattan, headed for home a bit sore, but with a smirk to help me along.

--==[X]==--

TOTAL PAY: 500 Bits + 75 Bits (Tips)

AFTERMATH: Hips hurt for two weeks, but hopeful for word of mouth advertising from the Mane Six

WOULD REPEAT CUSTOMER?: Yes (with a reminder about permissions to touch)

Performance - Public Rate:

THE JOB: Cage Dancer for a private rave party, located in a privately rented warehouse

THE PAY: Four-hundred and twenty bits, plus tips

THE CLIENT: Vinyl Scratch, in her DJ PON3 persona

--==[X]==--

Manehattan has two real muzzles; the one that everyone sees everyday, while they commute to work or engage in grabbing a slice of pizza, or even just loitering until the cops shoo them away. That's the one everypony knows, and it's the presentation you see in all those tourist commercials on the tube; bustling, high-energy, active, appealing in its grand glory as they usually add in a shot of something like The Statue of Friendship, Saddle Row or Rockafoaller Center.

Then, there's the other muzzle.

This is the one where all the 'misfits' manage to tumble into. It's where you can find a thousand vices, a million folks who'll sell 'em to you, and roughly ten or twenty in the whole fucking town who can be trusted with even the smallest amount of bits. It's where the avant-garde are, the hustlers, the kids who actually ARE hip and trendy - they all show up to be wowed by the underbelly of this town.

And you'd better believe that, when a rave is cooking, the freaks come oozing out of the woodwork, intent on that perennial beacon of all things wild and fun - THE PARTY. It's like they can smell that shit a whole day before it begins, and they're like piranhas when it comes to finding the next fun thing and devouring it whole, gorging themselves on a feast of debauchery and mind-and-mood-altering substances.

Damn. Sorry - poetic bullshit again. My bad.

But if there was ONE thing I knew, it was that raves usually had a lot of folks coming through who usually had bits to burn; the possibility of tip-making at a rave could be phenomenal, if done correctly. And I'd had plenty of practice at that very situation, thanks to being invited to a number of raves in my time.

Which is why, when I got a text from my DJ buddy, I got excited about it. See, I liked raves fairly enough - schmoozing, lights, fog machines, mares in barely-there wear, the whole nine yards - but I REALLY enjoyed the music. As someone who shook their groove thing (among other parts) for a living, I had a deep appreciation for the club thump and grind; it was my bread and butter, after all.

The DJ's message gave me an address, a time and an amount - we'd done this before, and had it down to a science. The time was tonight, but I was sent the text near noon; she knew my rules, and was all sorts of cooperative in letting me scope the location, a-la Rule Number Two. It was a warehouse, according to my phone's GPS - not a surprise, because I knew my friend liked to go BIG.

But the pay was right, and I was starting to feel the excitement vibrating its way up my spine at the prospect of tonight's festivities. See, there were certain times that my DJ pal used one or two dancers to spice up the party; it usually didn't require full nudity, and STILL paid well as I stood in some sort of dance cage, or on a platform or some shit like that and did my thing.

THOSE jobs were usually nothing but gravy, as the tips could potentially outweigh the pay if there were enough mares willing to plunk down their hard-earned bits to stare at my abs while they lounged in a drunken stupor or high-fived each other. If I caught the eye of multiple groups, I might be able to take the next few days completely off!

It didn't take too long to get to the warehouse district by bus, and once I'd managed to find the address myself, I made note that it was a bit removed from the street; good, because fewer neighbors to bitch at us about noise levels, but bad because it sort of left only one way in and out for folks who couldn't fly or swim, as it was on the far end of the dock. But I didn't sweat it; my friend always had a backup plan, and usually a backup plan TO the backup plan.

Smart mares are cool; smart DJ mares are figurative icebergs.

Okay, so a single 'hinky' thing in the whole deal - I wasn't about to step away because of it. I had to have her back on this, since I'd already done so plenty of times before, and I trusted her not to have booked a gig somewhere folks could get mugged. Plus, I knew how to swim; if I had to practice my pony paddle, I would.

Stop laughing. I never learned the barrelstroke, okay? Piss off.

Anyway, as the night drew closer, I went ahead and gathered the stuff I was going to wear - a neon green mesh tank top, my tiger-striped speedos and my best pair of knee-high boots; to those who actually want to TRY this profession someday, I suggest doing everything within your power to make SURE you have comfortable boots for rave dancing.

Or, if you're into masochism, pay no attention to me, here; regular shoes, sneakers, sandals, those ridiculous crocs... not a single, solitary one of 'em will spare your feet even a single moment of respite. Boots are MADE for wear and tear, and usually have a number of advantages to your feet - especially if you buy steel-toed boots; the sensation of someone walking on your toes, yet you feel nothing, is one of those feelings that number one pop songs come from.

I got to the area about an hour before the show, and sent a text to let her know I was here. My phone gave a sultry mare's giggle (my message alert sound), and the communication told me to meet at the far end of the parking lot, by the flickering streetlamp. Yeah - that was her style: flashy.

Groan all you want - I thought it was funny.

Parked beneath the spazzing lightpost was an off-white utility van, and whatever company it had started its existence at's logo was painted over with skillful graffiti of a pair of violet-lensed shades, superimposed over a turntable. I could see the blue velvet fuzz on the seats as I approached, and smiled as I heard a feminine voice humming away from the rear doors.

In the back of the van were boxes upon boxes upon boxes of vinyl records; stuff from so many various years and bands, it was impossible to pin down any one style as being more prevalent than the rest. They were packed away in multiple milk crates, all filled with records so tightly that they didn't even slide around when they were moved.

And moving them around was the mare of the hour. When I made my way around the side, I was greeted by the rather fetching sight of a shapely rump in the air as she was reaching deep into the van to grab a particularly stubborn crate of albums. Personally, she and I had been friends for so long, I mostly teased her about her looks - plus, there was the whole 'girlfriend' thing she had going on with that classy musician she dated.

She was kinda hot, but she was also like a sister to me. Not that it kept me from giving her cute ass a nice stare for a moment... but it did mean that was as far as it was gonna go. Besides, both of us were MUCH too independent to date each other - we'd have driven each other crazy in short order.

But friends? Yeah - we had that going for us, for sure.

When she finally stood up, she tossed her head back to get her funky blue bangs out of her muzzle as she set the errant crate on the ground, then turned to me and smiled. Vinyl never was much for words... but with the turntable skills she had, she didn't NEED to be. We shared a fist bump, then she motioned to a short stack of crates; looks like I was being volunteered to help carry them in.

"Gee, V," I smirked, "thanks for the extra workout. Guess you're trying to make sure I'm still in good shape for tonight, hunh?"

She gave me a playful shove, then grabbed up some of the crates - and I got hold of the rest as we began walking towards what would become ground zero for the party bomb. As she wasn't much for conversation from her end, I usually did most of the chatty stuff between us.

"So it's been, what, four months or so since the last event - I figured, after all that foam, you were drying out your equipment. But I still made a killing, so here I am again. So, I take it we'll have the same set-up as usual? Music starts, then I come in and go to 'location X', and do what I do best while YOU do what YOU do best, right?"

She looked at me earnestly and tilted her head left and right; so-so, which meant there was more to it. Chances were, she'd let me know before things got started in earnest. Meanwhile, I got a second look at the place as we made our way towards it.

Warehouse. Alley garbage. Dumpster. Windows covered in foil from the inside. Yeah... about the same as I'd seen it earlier; typical area in need of some cleaning, but not a total pigsty nor a shadowy mug-trap. Within the acceptable boundaries of my personal paranoia, so I felt that Rule Number Two was satisfied.

Reaching the rear entryway, we came to a pair of double doors that V gave three swift, light kicks as a knock. After a moment, the door gave a >ker-chunk< as it was pushed open enough for her to catch it with her hip. I led the way in, and she followed behind. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but I didn't step far; I wasn't about to run into someone and potentially break a crateful of discs. V might disown me if I did something that stupid.

After the door closed, I saw what looked like a tall, wide blur of darkness step forward from behind it. All I could currently make out was that it was a hulk of a form that was slouching our way - obviously, our impromptu usher.

Yeah, 'impromptu'... look it up. I know big words; now you do too. You're welcome.

As my indoor-eyes focused, I found myself looking up at what had to be the BIGGEST yak I'd ever laid eyes on (and yes, I've seen yaks before). He was rippling with muscle, all covered in a big-ass coat of coal black fur that looked thick enough to make rope out of. Two horns jutted out wickedly from the sides of his skull, a single silver ring hanging from a hole drilled into the left one, and both looked excessively sharp.

The pair of baleful orange eyes that stared down at us both seemed to be looking at us through a veritable tunnel of facial fur; really, I could see the barest tip of a nose peeking out of a very dour-looking muzzle. The look in those eyes almost seemed as if he was trying to decide what part of me to start stomping first.

"Miss Vinyl," he said in a molasses-thick Hosstrian accent, "I am glad to see you haff made it to de PAH-TEE; de stage iz set up as you haff requested, and de DAHN-CAHS haff arrived. Tonight, you will BLOW de MAHNDS of youah FENS in da audienze, and Blackring shall see youah TRYUMFF!"

He then turned his gaze directly onto my own humble personage. "Iz dis youah ASSISDAHNT, Miss Vinyl?"

Wow, he was a bit, uhhh... mushmouthed, wasn't he? Yeah, they can't ALL be gems.

I lifted an eyebrow, but spoke calmly and evenly. "No sir - I'm one of the dancers for tonight. I was just helping V with her-"

He took a single step towards me... which, with his height, meant we was almost instantly face-to-face with me. "You shall address Miss Vinyl with DIGNIHTEE and RESPEKT! There will be none of all youah 'VEE' with her, little filly-colt!"

... the FUCK did he just call me?

Before I could echo my thoughts aloud, V stepped forward and shook her head vehemently at the massive tower of obviously dumb muscle. The yak looked at her, then looked over at me again and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "But de DAHN-CAHS are already here... unless he iz an addition, ya?"

Vinyl nodded, giving him a look that said she was ready to go do what she was here to do now, could he please stop blathering like a fucking idiot and let us by, fuck you very much and have an unpleasant day, you beast-bitch teat-curdle of a mule's sweaty underboob soup!

... okay, maybe that was more ME than HER, but close enough.

"Okay, den," he said in a slow drawl as he continued to eyeball me while he stepped back into place behind the door, "he shall be added to de lineup lizt! De show iz set to begin soon - NOW IZ DE TAHYME WHERE WE PREPAYAH!"

V rolled her eyes at the big bastard, but motioned with her head for me to follow her. We passed by the hulking tower of fur and muscle and headed for the stage, his beady little eyes following ME specifically, as if the numbfuck expected me to reach over and slap my good friend at any moment.

FUCK that asshat - but as long as I didn't have to deal with him any further than I already had, I'd simply chalk it up to him being a living bag of dicks and move on. I had a rave to enjoy tonight; I didn't exactly have time to grumble and complain about some fat-assed fuzzy fuc-boi who didn't seem to have even a single iota of brains in his thick fucking skull...

SORRY. Sorry. Sorry - on with the story, enough about him.

The stage setup, of course, was wicked and wild; I could see the equipment in place for a Tartarus of a show, and V looked like she was overjoyed to finally get her records to her booth. It was a particularly interesting booth, as she'd attached wheels and an engine to it, not too long ago. Two enormous speaker stacks, turntables in the center, and enough wires leading to who-knew-how-many other speakers that were probably stashed throughout the entire warehouse.

Hanging above the stage were two dance cages, with two platforms on either side. I was a bit surprised; normally, V only went for one or two of us at the same time - if everything was going to be used, then it meant I had three other dancers to meet with. Great.

Don't get me wrong, now - I could work within a group, no problem. The issue was that I had no clue if THEY could work with a group; there always seemed to be at least one moron who thinks they can do it bigger, better, stronger, faster, harder... and who, by trying to do exactly that, can end up fucking up the night for everyone else. That's why 'checking the dancers' also fit neatly under Rule Number Two's purview.

I set the crates down next to the ones V had carried in, and she gave me a thumbs up before she turned to start testing her sound stuff. But before she could get started, I made sure to get her attention. "V, you mentioned things were a bit different than usual - care to clue me in?"

She gave a somewhat absent nod, then pulled out her phone with one hand and began to type away at it, her eyes still focused on the turntable and equalizer in front of her. Within moments, my phone gave its' sexy giggle, and I pulled it from my pocket to see what she'd meant.

[Cages filled b4 show; U & kirin cages, peg & grif onstage; sorry about Blackring - dick, but short note pickup; start 9p - stop 4a]

For those who can't understand unicorn shorthand: The cages were to be filled before the show started, and she wanted myself and a kirin in them. There'd be a pegasus and a griffon who'd be onstage during the show - probably bound to be airborne, at least once or twice. And Blackring, as confirmed, was a dick - but he had apparently been available on short notice, so we'd have to suffer him, at least for tonight. Finally, the show would start around nine at night, and was planned to go until four in the morning.

Seven hours - not too bad, and within my own endurance range. Doing this kind of stuff for V at least two or three times a year helped me find my own limits when it came to performing, so I wasn't intimidated by the potentially long night ahead. I was looking forward to hearing what sort of new beats my friend had cooked up lately, and making money while listening to them from the relative safety of a cage.

Cages were safe because they tended to keep the riff-raff away from you; the pickpockets, the drunken gropers, the stumblebums or the personal space invaders couldn't get to you if you were in a cage suspended from the ceiling. Speaking of which, I made sure to get a CLOSE look at that cage now.

The bars were thick and sturdy, I counted no less than TWO safety cables and a sturdy, thick chain holding it aloft, and the entire contraption looked deftly-welded as well as painstakingly pieced together - as well it should be, due to the fact the occupant would be bobbing and bouncing around inside it all night. You don't scheme to get someone into the air, just to skimp out on keeping them there.

Well, you could, but that was cheap as shit - a Domino Fortune level move.

However, V never skimped out - she had a reputation among the Raver Elite as THE go-to gal for the best parties, and she didn't get that rep for going cheap or half-assed, either.

Records hauled in, sitch explained, so now it was onward to see who I'd be working with tonight. I knew a few different dancers, so there was a chance I'd know one or two of them; here's hoping they were pros and not dumbasses who'd fuck up the show before we could get paid properly for it.

The backstage dressing area had a radio blaring away on some sort of Talk Radio station - and the blessing of static over much of it kept whatever was being talked about from being understood by anyone nearby. Among the mirror-backed tables and half-worn stools were three other individuals, two of them chatting while the third got her makeup ready.

The pegasus and the griffon were chatting amicably about sports; seems like they were both Buckball fans, and they were discussing some sort of sports mumbo-jumbo to each other, occasionally laughing at some awful joke or other. The peg was male, slim and wiry, and had a bright green shock of mane falling over half his muzzle, while the griffon femme sported quite a lovely set of blue and white feathers that almost made her look streamlined.

Seated at one of the mirrored tables was the kirin... and Sweet Luna's Plot, she was gorgeous! Her orange coat, that fluffy red mane (with accompanying tail-tuft), the grey scales in all the most interesting places, and the strange, yet elegantly curved 'Y' of a horn that sprouted from her forehead... all quite a sight to begin with. Add to that a pair of just-barely-over-a-handful breasts, legs that seemed to be made of 'raw, undiluted sexy', and a curvy derriere` that was difficult for me to keep my eyes off of.

I didn't know any of them (praise Celestia), and the two talkers only spared me the barest of glances as I passed them by, headed towards the kirin - hey, she wasn't a client of mine, so Rule Number One didn't apply with her; if I could get BOTH a rave and a babe in the same night?

Tonight just kept getting better and better.

"Y'know," I said to the kirin as I moved up behind her, letting her get a look at me in the mirror, "what you're doing there seems kinda pointless; you're beautiful enough as it is without all that goop on your muzzle."

Doing up her yellow eyeliner, she spared me a quick glance. "Yeah - unfortunately, YOU'RE part of the entertainment like I am, so as flattering as that sounds, YOU aren't the crowd I'm catering to tonight, handsome."

She shot my compliment down, but still called me 'handsome'? Looks like we've got a feisty one here, folks...

I smirked. "Tonight, you'll be ogled by out-of-their-heads teens, strange adults with weird fetishes and the occasional senior citizen who thinks they can still hang with the younger generation - are you telling me you'd rather entertain THEM than a sweet, honest guy like myself?"

She returned the smirk, adding a wink. "Oh, I didn't say I'd RATHER entertain them... I'm just being paid to do so, at the moment." She then finished her makeup, turned to me and sauntered past as she headed for the changing area. "But that doesn't mean my dancing is ONLY for those who pay in bits..."

She ran her tail across my hip as she passed me, which - for once - I took in stride. "... sometimes, I like my pay in sweat, big colt... know what I mean?"

Oh, DID I.

As the kirin was being rather receptive, I followed along. "Hitting me with a line like that, then just walking away?"

She gave a sultry giggle that made the one on my phone sound like a hoarse duck in comparison. "What - you don't like the view?"

"A view like that should have a name, really - especially if I wanted to label it in my mind for my imagination to run wild with later." I grinned naughtily. "Unless you'd prefer to be The Nameless Mare in my head, which really doesn't do you any justice."

"Silky Scorch," she purred as we reached the dressing area. She slid into one of the changing booths, and I - being a gentlecolt - stood far enough away to keep from peeping on anything; she was hot, but that was no excuse to look at her naked bits without her say-so...

Besides, with the way this was going, I might be getting a view of those bits anyway - and DAMN, was I looking forward to it!

As she dressed, I made my attempts to be funny - mares always liked the comedians, I've noticed - as she changed clothing while she teased me back with each joke I told. Some stallions would have gotten discouraged by her responses, thinking they were being 'shot down'... but the truth of the matter was, if she was STILL chatting with me after teasing, then she wanted me to keep making her giggle - which could eventually lead to MORE than just jokes and giggles, I reckoned.

When she came out of the stall, I had to fight my instincts to gawk or wolf whistle; if she had been dynamite before, she was NUCLEAR now - a bright yellow g-string, with matching yellow go-go boots and a bikini top that was so small, it may as well have not even been there. Shit, that top was small enough to show off the sides of her dark areola, hinting at the nipple that was just barely covered by the fabric.

"You like?" she asked coquettishly, giving me a pose as she inhaled a deep breath, making her barely-restrained chest bulge and strain at the yellow fabric holding back those lovely lady lumps.

"I like," I confirmed, "and I'm sure the audience will appreciate how much of a knockout you are, too."

She strutted past me, obviously putting an extra swing in her step to entice me to follow her. And with an ass like that, I'd probably follow her right off a cliff, smiling the entire way down. I might go splat, but the last thought in my head would be that divine kirin backside swinging and swaying in front of me.

Oh please, Celestia, Luna, Cadence, Twilight... please please PUH-LEEZE let this be a sure thing for me tonight!

The two of us made our way towards the stage, but a raised hand stopped me before I could follow that beautiful flank any further. "So, you make number four, hunh?" said the pegasus dancer, done up in a tiny red tank top with a matching pair of shorts that were so tight, you could probably count the wrinkles in his ballsack.

"Yeah," I answered cautiously, "name's Monty - you two are the platform dancers tonight, right?"

He nodded while his griffon companion took a pull off her beer, grinning at me as she finished her gulp.

"That's us," she confirmed with a grin, "and we've worked together a whole BUNCHA times, so me an' him are good to go. We might flutter over to your cages from time to time; if you interact with us at all, make it sexy, you hear me?"

Again, she brought the bottle up and finished the contents, wiped her beak and walked just far enough to grab another bottle from one of the mirrored dresser countertops. She popped the top with a single claw, then tilted it back to get another swallow or five.

"Uhhhhh... is she gonna be okay for the rave?" I asked the peg, who gave a dismissive wave.

"Eh, she drinks like this all the time - I'm Buster, and she's Geneva, by the way." He shrugged. "Like she said, we've worked together enough to have our routine down pat, so don't worry about us so much. I'd be careful about Silk, though."

Oh? "Really? And exactly why is that?" I had already made some moves, but catching side-advice was always a bonus; might hold a warning or two about what might be in store for me.

Buster gave a knowing grin. "She's got a temper, dude - and she doesn't like being upstaged. You want to get into those panties, you're gonna have to let her take the spotlight; as long as she thinks she's better than you, she's sweet as sugar... but the moment you prove to be an equal - or worse, better - then you're gonna have yourself a buncha trouble."

Yeah, mares were always trouble - what else was new?

"I think I'm enough of a grown colt to handle a little jealousy, but thanks for the heads-up," I offered, "besides, I'm just a stallion with a nice package; that babe'll have the audience eating out of her hands."

"Yo, hey," Geneva leaned in against Buster, going eye to eye with me, "I swing by your cage, feel free to put your hands on me - the crowd LOVES it when the dancers get a lil' frrrrrrrisky, y'know?" With an amused snort, she turned up the beer again, her throat working overtime to take in the alcohol she was pouring into it.

Goofy Juice always tended to make a lot more problems than it solved - I wasn't wanting to see this griffon girl wobbling and weaving through the air... or worse, crashing into someone. Like V. Or ME. I didn't like what I was seeing, but as I'd be inside a cage, I figured it would be their problem, not mine if she brained herself on the floor or some shit like that. Not that I'd want to see it happen.

The two of them then turned and made their way out to the stage, Geneva taking yet another guzzle as they made their way towards the platforms. I gave a bit of a stretch to get the blood flowing again, and would have also gone towards the stage, had I not heard a voice from behind me speak low and menacingly to my back.

"You ahr an unknown FAKTAH in tonight's proceedings," Blackring growled, "and do not think dat youah INSULT to Miss Vinyl haff been forgotten, little filly-colt. You ahr DAHN-ZING on glass, already... and it iz CRACKINGH! Be assyoored det Blackring iz watching you, and det you haff nowhere for to hide fhram his MIGHTY MAHSSLES!"

I gave the fuckwit a sardonic look; I doubted he'd even know what 'sardonic' meant, much less how to spell it.

"Look, all I came here to do was dance, okay?" I said as I locked eyes with the yak, "And as far as I've been here, I haven't done anything worth all your stress and focus; I've known V a LONG time, and she knows ME, so I'd thank you to just do your job and leave me the Tartarus alone, okay?"

The burly buttfucker narrowed his eyes. "I will do dat... unteel you FAHCK AHP, dat iz - after dat, youah AZZ belongs to BLACKRING."

He fixed me with a full-on death glare before turning on a heel and stomping from backstage, headed for wherever it is that ass-sweat-basted dingleberries like HIM hang out. WHAT THE FUCK WAS HIS FUCKING PROBLEM!? The walking pile of shit seemed only to want to push my buttons, for some reason - did I happen to step on his feet? Was he jealous because he had a tiny dick? Was his ass sore from all the BULLSHIT he kept spewing out?

FUCK him - that walking cuntrag can go fuck his mother until he knocks her up with his incest-ridden foal that'll have six eyes and no legs for all I fucking care; I wasn't about to rise to his taunts, but I was fuming inside over the very fucking NERVE of this deflated spunkbubble's diseased and pitiful fucking ego.

Best part of Blackring ended up as a stain on his momma's mattress while she had a train run on her like she was Grand Fucking Central Station.

DAMNDAMNdamndamn damn damn... *sigh* shit.

Look, all I had to do was get through the night here, collect my pay in the morning and go the fuck home; I didn't have to interact with that limpdicked, tampon-crust-licking cocksneeze much, and NEVER AGAIN, after tonight - I hoped.

So, with tonight already having been both hopeful and hate-able, I decided that it would be about the right time to take to the stage, get in the cage and become all the rage - tonight had the potential to be one Tartarus of a money-maker, as long as everything went off well enough.

Right - like THAT ever happens.

Anyway, it didn't take much to lower the cage and climb inside it, and Buster helped pull the chain to get it back into the air after I situated myself inside. Cage dancing was fun, if you could stand being off the ground - the drunken heathen masses couldn't touch you, and you were far enough above the action to be safe but still quite visible... at least, it was from where I was at.

I was on the left-hand side of the stage; Silky would be in the cage on the right. And from my viewpoint, I was going to have a first-class front row seat to the kirin's sexy shimmy all night long. Which I fully planned to take complete and total advantage of as we worked. I'm pretty sure she was thinking the same thing, because as her cage was pulled back into place across from my own, she smiled at me and gave me a sultry lick of her lips while her eyes travelled the length of my body.

It wasn't often that I found myself in the grip of a 'sure thing', but if Silky's interest was completely genuine, then it was pretty much inevitable that I was going to be enjoying that luscious form very, very soon. I wonder if she liked pancakes or waffles for breakfast? Guess I'd be finding out, soon enough!

Once we were in the air and secured, V started her sound checks. I gotta say it - I was always in awe of how she got her music equipment so powerful and precise. She gave a few tests bursts of techno-funk through her speakers, her almost-always present headphones now pulled to the side to allow for better listening. Then, more bursts, but through auxiliary wires leading to other speakers.

The mare had the entire place wired for sound and lights... and when the time was right, she'd likely unleash that particular detail as soon as she had a chance. Tests snippets of music thumped out erratically, allowing her to test for stuff like how far they projected, how much echo they produced and so on as she sequenced them with the lights around the stage.

Frankly, she could've been testing the sound with a tuba filled with puppies - right now, my eyes (and attention) stayed glued to the shapely figure of my kirin dancing partner as she stretched and warmed up... something I am 100% certain she was purposely doing while twisting herself into the BEST angles for me to see her from.

A loud whistle from below got all of our attentions as Vinyl stuck a finger in the air and made a circular motion - her way to let us know that things were about to get rolling. I gave one last stretch and grinned as I adjusted my mesh top; the time had come.

Rule Number Four, baby.

At raves with my buddy V, I tended to follow her musical lead; starting out with a good, long buildup to a decent starting point. As the music began to thump, I added a bit of a bounce to my movements, keeping time with the downbeat until I could hear the buildup beginning. Once that started, I started putting that extra bit of swing into my sway, letting my loins speak volumes louder than the music currently was; silly as it might sound, making my bulging package bob and weave to the music was entertaining, and it was more of a challenge than you'd think to keep time precisely with a hammocked dong for a metronome needle.

It didn't take long at all for the place to fill up - DJ PON3 was one of the most popular musicians in Equestria, and word of her spectacular raves spread quicker than Cutie Pox in a crowded subway. The elite snobbery were all lining the tables in the back, the flashy trendsetters surrounding the bar, and the wild and wooly teenagers who stormed the dance floor were moving and grooving like there would never be a morning to wake up to.

Of course, they always acted like that; the muzzles were different, but the party was still about the same as it ever was.

Below me, Buster and Geneva had kept to the ground so far. The two of them were actually dynamite together; it was almost as if they were already a couple of lovers, the way they caressed and slid around each other as if they were restraining themselves from banging onstage only by the barest margin of 'decency'. They were good, of that I had no doubt.

But if they were good, Silky Scorch was FLAWLESS.

Her movements were all deliberate and pre-planned, and were made to achieve maximum sexiness with each and every twitch of a shapely muscle, every wink of a roguish eye, and every bounce of her incredible bust. She seemed to legitimately be working hard enough to put everyone else to shame - even V wasn't working as hard as the kirin was, and the unicorn was a workaholic when it came to her shows.

To say the effect of Silky's hard work was not lost on me was putting it mildly; I was convinced by this point that she was teasing me on purpose - which likely meant she'd already decided she was going home with me in the morning, and she was doing her best to get me all worked up for the inevitable release that was cumming soon enough.

Heh... yeah, that was no typo.

By the time the second hour was rolling in, I had gotten into my own personal zone, and was following Rule Number Four to a T; there were a number of mares and barely-legal fillies that had been massing around my end of the stage, and I was giving them a good enough show to keep them where they were. Buster occasionally gave me an approving look, and even Geneva flashed a wink of two in my direction as my professional nature began to tempt the crowds beneath my feet.

Silky, I noted, had gathered herself a nice little crowd of horny teenaged stallions, all of which were surely having immoral fantasies about the smoking hot dancer in the cage as she did her utmost best to keep their eyes riveted to her immensely delicious figure - her perfect flanks, in particular.

Flanks that she'd been swinging while staring at me, a smoldering look on her face to go with the sinful movements she was making with her hips and tits, the flirtatious smile there promising SO much more, in due time. A few times, one of her large breasts would joggle loose from her tiny top; she always seemed to make certain that I got a peek before she put it away behind the straining fabric, waiting for them to pop free once again.

I was having a grand time. Between watching the two dancers onstage having fun with each other, to watching the kirin having fun with ME, to the fact I couldn't see that walking shitstain of a yak anywhere around... it felt like it was an absolutely perfect moment in time for me. Something I'd recall on my deathbed with a fond smile, leaving whomever was there with me wondering why I'd died with such a grandiose grin on my muzz.

*sigh* Yeah, yeah - you know it'd never go like that for little ol' me.

It started when one of the patrons below us raised a fist into the air and began to pump her fist in time to my hip-swinging motions. That set off another mare, who then seemed to get a few others to join in the act, and before I knew it, almost the entire group who'd been watching us were now all intent on giving me their full, undivided attention.

I saw my tip bucket at the stage filling up - it was set up to keep anyone from 'reneging their donation', but could still be seen into - and from the looks of it, I was doing well enough to fill that bucket rather quickly. I'd now gathered a small crowd beneath me, and I was feeling the energy from them starting to get into me.

I looked over at the kirin with a smile, but she was eyeing the crowd underneath me with a bit of suspicion; it seemed as though she wasn't much for the idea that I was garnering more attention than she was, apparently. So, she started putting more effort into her sway and bounce... which most certainly DID attract more attention to her, and the crowd under my feet began to gyrate towards her side of the stage.

Oh, so now it was a competition, eh? I was down with that, sure.

I started to double-down on my own hip-swinging, and even put a leg up on the bars themselves to grind my bulge between them, making my shaft stretch those tiger stripes on my shorts to their capacity as I gifted the group below with a tease of my own, showing that I had the girth to spare, yet I was still barely restrained by the fabric on my lower torso.

THAT got their attention back on me quickly, and the crowd was soon whooping and hollering up underneath my cage again. I was sure this little competition was going to be a fun distraction for a while, so I looked over to Silky and raised my eyebrows, as if in an unspoken challenge.

The look in her eyes didn't match mine. In fact, she looked a bit irked that I'd swung the crowd back over to myself, and I got the feeling that she was going to make more of a show out of this than we'd planned on. And sure enough, I was right.

Silky glared at me for a moment... then a slow smile spread across her features as she simply raised her arms and began to writhe in place sensually, making her hips do things that belonged in a bedroom as she began to spin a lazy circle in her cage. By the time she'd come completely around, one of her melons had slipped out of her top again... and she was making ZERO effort to return it to the tiny flap of yellow fabric it had freed itself from yet again.

Oh, the crowd saw THAT, for sure. It was almost a miracle, how the gathered folks beneath me suddenly vanished, only to reappear under the bouncing boob that the kirin was now proudly displaying for everyone to see. She gave me a smug smile in return, looking extremely satisfied with herself.

So look - MOST of the time, places that hired dancers for this kind of stuff usually had at least some semblance of rules in place to define what was and was not allowed onstage. If you were dancing for a show, then it was most likely against the rules to expose yourself to the audience - and could get you fined, if you didn't watch out. Making lots of cash was good, but having to pay almost all of your profit out in fines was not.

Vinyl Scratch, however, had always been one who didn't really enforce the lesser, more pedestrian rules - or, to put it bluntly, she didn't care if you wanted to run around naked with a rubber glove pulled down over your head yelling 'I'm a squid' at the top of your lungs; as long as you weren't killing the vibe, you were free to do as you pleased.

So, if the ante was being upped, I had no problem with reciprocation.

As the crowd watched Silky with hope, awe and strings of drool in evidence, I reached down and undid the zipper on my shorts; sure enough, my 'work equipment' fell out into view - and with the show the kirin had been putting on for me earlier, I was most certainly NOT playing the part of the wallflower tonight.

Pole-a-swingin', I began to heat up my moves and put more sizzle into my act, doing a number of different feats that made my bone swing free and clear, giving the crowds a taste of what I gave mares a good look at in my profession's typical work hours. And they reacted, all right.

NOW, I had what felt like half the club underneath me, mares (and a few stallions, too) below my feet, all with their eyes cast upward at the newest star of the show as I wound my hips up to show them all what a proper 'helicopter' looked like. The demonstration brought cheers from below, as well as at least three yelled-out phone numbers and one honest-to-Celestia 'WOO-HOO!' from a rambunctious drunken mare.

I was now quite satisfied that I would be taking home a butt-ton of tips tonight, and even though I'd put on the type of show that deserved it, I'd still share my tips with Silky; after all, it was just a bit of friendly competit-...

When I looked up at Silky to confirm my thoughts, I became aware that I might have done something here that was a bit more effective than I first surmised about making myself a bit of a spectacle; the kirin looked like she was staring daggers at me, and her pretty pout was both adorable and a bit scary, as she now seemed to take it as a personal insult, seemingly.

As we stared at each other, she reached up and simply yanked her top completely off, then launched into an impressive array of moves that had obviously been arranged to make a mare's jugs into lethal Weapons of Mass Distraction. They began to bounce and wobble beautifully, as the mare herself started dancing at a pace that said she was more concerned about being THE top dancer here tonight, and anyone who thought otherwise could kiss her ass.

Which, honestly, I'd have been more than happy to do - it was a superb ass, after all.

But the look in her eye told me that she was serious about showing the world that her delicious body was better than mine at attracting attention, and she was determined to prove it, one way or another. It was a spark of competition that hadn't evidenced in her at all earlier... but now, Buster's warning came back to me, and I realized that she felt I was purposely upstaging her in a bid to become top dancer.

Really, I normally never cared about shit like that; placements were for folks who needed validation for what they did - and I wasn't that kind of stallion, so I wasn't the one who felt inferior if Silky got more tips or applause than I did. But apparently, SHE had some issues to tackle, and I'd managed to stumble right into the middle of them.

So, should I back down? Quit making a spectacle of myself, and put the fleshy protrusion in front of me back into my shorts? Maybe even apologize for being the kind of stallion who attracted attention, even if they weren't trying to? Would it be worthwhile to surrender to the kirin's ego and allow her the chance to outshine me here, in front of my good friend at the DJ booth?

Fuck it - the crowds want a show? Let's give 'em one.

I reached up and gripped the rails along the ceiling of my cage and, lifting myself with my arms, I worked my feet between the bars and held them solid and still as I then allowed my torso to swing back down. Now, I started grooving and gyrating my hips from an upside-down position, which now had the crowd practically eating out of my hand.

Which was when SHE just started yanking her clothing off altogether, in a desperate bid to remain in the running with me - and OH, that body was magnificent to behold. Part of me lamented at not choosing to watch her dress earlier; the sight I was looking at now was being burned into my brain as one of the most beautiful bodies I'd ever had the good fortune to lay my eyes on.

Well, I wasn't about to be upstaged here - I'd gone this far, so why not give it the whole nine yards? I followed suit, untying and shaking off my boots as I got the rest of my clothes off and put my entire worksuit on display for the crowd to enjoy.

And they WERE - the folks beneath us were going NUTS at the sight of two well-built and talented dancers baring their bodies and putting their moves to the test. By now, the two of us weren't even watching the crowd below; my jovial expression was now directly at war with her chagrined one, and the two of us were dancing as if we were both on a world-wide camera feed, displaying our talents to the entire world.

I was having a blast... and I'd have thought she would be too. After all, both our tip buckets were overflowing now - and we were both on the same side here, right? Clearly, by us doing what we were doing, we were helping each other out and bringing our combined profits through the roof with this stunt.

But she still seemed insulted, as if I'd personally told her that she had a fat ass that needed some dieting to get back into proper shape. Fuck, from some of the mares I'd known in the past, she might have actually taken my dance performance as a direct insult to her, and was doing her damndest to show me how foolish I was to try to go against her.

By now, we'd drawn quite a crowd to the stage front, and the party was rocking as completely as it could be; V knew what she was doing with the music, and had been amping up our little 'contest' with tunes that got more and more tribal, goading both myself and the crowd to dance more intimately, more sensually. She wore a small grin as she worked, and seemed to appreciate the focus being off of herself.

Buster and Geneva were now mostly upstaged by both of us, but they weren't upset like Silky was; on the contrary, they seemed to be enjoying the feeling of competition too. So much so that they now decided it was time to take their act into the air at last. Geneva looked like she was okay, but her eyes were those of a drunken harlot looking for someone to go home with after Last Call has settled in.

Oh, please, Celestia DON'T let her crash into my cage! Into Silky's cage! Into any cage... or, well, into ANYTHING! I just hoped she'd be okay for the performance, as I was fairly sure that crashing into someone would be a bad thing - and doing this kind of stuff was somewhat iffy in the first place.

See, warehouse raves like this aren't exactly legal; more like they're parties that last until the cops show up - then they tend to become practice for a cross-country relay sprint as everyone tries to get out and away from the mess before they get arrested for anything from 'drunk and disorderly' to 'attempted sex with an empty tequila bottle in public'. All of that, simply because V didn't want anyone else's rules breathing down her neck at her shindigs.

Like I said, independent as fuck - just like me.

But there was also the ever-present threat of needing to call for an ambulance; if THAT happened, the party might be called off. So yeah, there was a LOT going on at raves, but folks generally tended to NOT be eager to fistfight or have an accident - NOBODY wanted to be the one responsible for breaking up a DJ PON3 rave; they'd be a pariah to the underground community for YEARS, and would most likely never find themselves welcome at other parties in the know.

Geneva may have been a lush, but I never wanted anyone to end up being the party pooper; that, and I wasn't the kind who liked seeing others in pain. I genuinely didn't want her to hurt herself OR anyone else... but, being stuck in a suspended cage meant I didn't exactly have much of a chance to try to fix the sitch. All I could do was pray she could hold her booze.

Buster was quite an agile peg; he did spirals and loops like nobody's business, and knew where to position his flank for the crowds to get a fair view. Granted, at the moment, the audience was riveted to the two rival dancers in competition with each other in the cages, but arial acrobatics tended to get noticed more often than not. Otherwise, the Wonderbolts would be out of a job.

But the griffon? Color me impressed.

Geneva was pirouetting and slinking through the air as if it was her own personal lover, and she had zero faults or mishaps. Each move, each flap was carefully executed to get the maximum effect on whomever was observant. She almost seemed to flow through the air like she was made of liquid, and she dazzled the crowds below her with an occasional flash of feathery breast or shapely tailfeathers. Buster was a pro, yeah - but Geneva was a master of the flying craft.

The crowds didn't know where to look - between our performance, the aero-acrobatics of our winged friends and the overall experience of a DJ PON3 party had whipped them all into a frenzy of cheering, laughing and whooping with delight as our stage show was now a fully-powered phenomenon.

I was enjoying the workout, honestly; I'd been really strutting my stuff, and had been working hard to make sure to keep the crowd hyped up - which, to me, is what they pay dancers for in the first place. Probably because I was showing such a happy-go-lucky and cavalier attitude, I now had the majority of the front of the club beneath me, all cheering as I showed off my moneymaking skills to the gathered mares under the cage.

Which was all fun and games until there was a bright flash of light from the other cage.

Standing in place of the sexy kirin was her counterpart - a jet black nirik, naked as the day she was born, whose eyes were boring a hole into my skull as she grit her teeth; she was just as hot as she had been before, but now there was ACTUAL FIRE to accentuate that vision. Then, almost as if she had been commanded to do so, she began to dance again - this time, her moves had zero hesitation or shame, and she was grinding herself on the bars hard enough to leave them slick with her juices.

Fire rolled off her mane and tail tip as she began to wind herself up into a blatantly vulgar and slut-worthy display of moves that were usually saved for porn videos, licking her lips as she humped the bars and openly fingered her beautiful (yet literally flaming) crotch, letting drops of her sizzling honey drip down to the dance floor... as well as onto the occasional partygoer, who tended to give a yelp as her juices literally scalded where they touched.

FUCK. How the Tartarus was I supposed to compete with THAT!?

Geneva was now showing off an arial prowess that, even as an Earth Pony, I was frankly a bit jealous of - but in a good way. She apparently WAS an utter professional, even when she was drunk - her moves were flashy, showy, and more than a little enticing. She even flapped her way over to my cage and rolled her feathered tits against the bars in their tiny little barely-there t-shirt, flirting with me in that way that brings all the virgins to the forefront to drop their tip money in a hurry.

Buster had tried to do the same with Silky... but the nirik was FAR too engrossed in her own nasty display that she didn't even notice him there. A little disconcerting, as one of her kicks came almost close enough to him to light him up with her flames; he tended to give her a bit more space, after that near miss.

Regardless of how it actually was, the crowd was eating it up and begging for more; by now, all four of us had pretty much the entire warehouse's eyes on us; even V herself kept looking up from her turntables to admire the sight. And believe me, getting her to look up from her music? THAT was a feat and a half.

"HYOU!" a voice like a fucking ass-blast reached my ears, "HYOU are mahking de kirin AHNGREE! Hyou must STAHP at WUNCE, little filly-colt! Blackring COMMANDS it!"

Command: (verb) - the act of giving orders to be followed, usually to a soldier or other subordinate, in a manner that leaves little room for negotiation or refusal. Usually given in a manner that is forceful and dominant, to further accentuate the necessity of the task or the urgency of the one issuing the command.

Yeah - that don't work for me; I'm no soldier, and NOBODY'S subordinate.

So, in the spirit of ensuring to communicate the exact level of care and attention I was going to pay to the yak's command, I gave him the finger and kept right on dancing. I could swear I saw steam boil out of his ears as his eyes went wide and angry - though, with his piggy-little peepers, I'd say he was finally seeing something at all for the first time in his life that wasn't half-hidden by his fucking monobrow.

"HYOU! Blackring will FOLD HYOU IN HAFF!" he bellowed, jumping up and down in an infantile display of anger at my hijinks. "HYOU will STAHP NOW! I will EJECT HYOU fram da PAH-TEE, I am in chahge heah!!! HYOU WILL LISTEN TO ME, stupid filly-colt!"

Okay, now I was beginning to wonder if someone had neglected to tell shit-for-brains that fillies weren't colts, and vice-versa; he obviously didn't understand what the fuck he was saying, and if he DID, then I'm pretty sure the sausage I was swinging around would have been proof positive that I was no sort of 'filly' at all.

I looked over at Silky, who was dealing with her rage-on as best as she could, giving me searing glares as she did wholly sexual and inappropriate things to her orifices in a bid to show me that I wasn't SHIT, compared to her. The jealousy was as obvious as the fire on her tail, which was whipping side to side as if she was fire-dancing with her butt.

Even though Blackdingus couldn't get at me right this very moment, he did manage to make his way out to my side of the stage, where he could gesture angrily at me and shake his meaty, basketball-sized fists at me. That may have been frightening for a lesser stallion, but not me.

I'd been RAISED on bullying - it was why I didn't like to be touched... and when you grow up of a steady diet of physical torture, you get numbed to the realization that it's coming. As a foal, you always fear getting hurt, and will tend to cry, cajole, wheedle or otherwise work your way out of it, if not outright hide from your fear.

As an adult who's survived countless painful situations - including fistfights - I didn't give a flying FUCK how big or mean he looked; if I had to get into it with the walking douche-nugget, then we'd BOTH be going to the medical ward afterwards. I wasn't guaranteed to beat his ass... but I wasn't going to the hospital ALONE either, that was for fucking sure.

And frankly, I'd had about enough of his bullshit - even if it kept me out of work for a while, it would be SO worth it just to rearrange his dental work for him.

For what it was worth, he was as trapped as I was; he was on the dance floor, while I was safely ensconced in my cage above the crowd. I gave the yak-stard a smug smile as I put my heart back into my dancing, swinging and swaying enough to capture the attentions (and libidos) of the gathered mares beneath me.

Which made Blackring LIVID, which I thoroughly enjoyed.

And made him turn and head for the connecting cables for the cages at the backstage... which I most certainly did NOT enjoy. It was mid-fucking-show; was he so damned angry that he was going to disconnect the cage and let it fall into the crowd itself? Just drop me right out of the air, possibly landing on some poor raver and squishing them under the cold, hard steel?

No. No, it wasn't gonna be that simple.

He got to the releases, alright. I then watched in horror as he grabbed the first safety anchor and twisted it apart, meaning he wouldn't need any keys to release the other two. Worse, nobody else was seeing this but he and I; Buster and Geneva were doing their aero-ballet, Silky was spreading her luscious black thighs and squirting her molten pleasure into the audience below, and V was lost in her music.

Blackring literally ripped the second cable out of the wall - SHIT he was strong - and then put his hands on the third one, the last chain left holding the cage aloft above the crowd, and pulled it free from its moorings - yet held on tightly. He then looked up at my expression of concern in the cage... and smiled.

Shit. NOW what?

As I watched, he slowly began to lower the cage down, bringing it eye-level with the crowd around us... and then, it became crystal clear what he was up to. The moment I was within reach, hands thrust through the cage bars at me, groping and reaching for me as if I was the bait in a zombie flick, the desire behind the party-goers eyes throttled to eleven under the haze of intoxication and the thrill of THE PARTY going on.

NO FUCKING TOUCHEE!

I scrambled back from the bars, but was rewarded for my efforts with a slap on the ass by another passionate patron. I turned to yell at them, and was instantly felt up along the inside of my right thigh. Then fingers began to work through the grating underneath me, trying to grasp my feet while inadvertently tickling the SHIT out of me.

I did my best to rein in my panic; this was BAD for anyone, but especially bad for a stallion who DID NOT like being touched. These crowds were already boiling - it wouldn't take much to get them into a sexual frenzy at all. In fact, it would only take something as easy as, oh I don't know, dunking a naked stallion into the middle of a crowd of horny rave teens, for example?

It was only for a few moments, but it felt like forever before the cage lifted again, bringing me out of reach once more. My heart was hammering, I was sweating bullets, and as far as I was concerned, I was officially DONE here...

But Blackring saw the fear on my muzzle... and the sick fuck was relishing it as he gave me a wink, then began to lower me down into the crowd AGAIN! This motherfucking scrotum-mold licker was fucking TERRORIZING ME with my own issues! He'd seen my fear, and was now intent on using that to fuck with me, helpless, as I became a new toy for the dipwad to play with.

Down the cage went into the crowd again, and now there was even more clawing and stretching towards me, mares intent on making contact with the nude stallion stripper that they never would have had a chance to touch otherwise - it was as if I was now on display for the audience, and that display was labeled 'don't touch'... but there were no security guards in sight.

Well, there was the one... but I got the feeling he wasn't gonna be much help for me, here.

I could feel the first itchings of a panic attack settling in as I began to breathe faster; even with my issues, I'd always been in situations where I had enough control to get out of them as soon as I could... and I dictated when touching would occur, not my clients. This way, I could keep my personal problems at bay while I worked.

This was almost the PERFECT setup for me to lose my shit in a big way.

My hands were shaking by the time he lifted the cage again, and the smirk he wore told me it was so very sweet for him to taste my fear like this. That sadistic fucktard would never work for V again, I'd make PERSONALLY sure of that - but until I could get out of this damned cage, I couldn't do SHIT about any of this at this very moment.

Raising the cage again, he laughed as one or two mares hung from it, begging me to let them in, they just wanted to talk, maybe hug me, perhaps a kiss, would I like a blowjob, oh please rut me like the whore I am...

Yeah, I already knew how THAT went down - and I wanted nothing to do with them.

This was fucking horrible... and if he wasn't stopped, he'd be at this for the next few hours. He looked like he had the muscles to keep it up until tomorrow evening, if he really wanted to. And his expression said he REALLY, REALLY wanted to.

It was everything I could do to keep from actually shedding tears over how pissed, afraid and unnerved I was by all of this; I tried to call out to Buster or Geneva - I even tried to call to V, once. Unfortunately, with the amassed party around us, the air-show between us and the fiery slut giving her all across from me, I didn't even get them to glance up in my direction.

I felt the cage jog under my hooves, and I was once more being lowered into the sea of estrogen; I could climb out of it and escape when I was at the ground, but the press of mares around me not only kept the cage door closed, but I wouldn't want any one of them getting inside with me - that'd be an incident that might break a LOT of my rules, all at once!

As the cage reached the dance floor for a third time, I looked up above me to try to signal to the fliers that there was an issue... but they were both now flapping in hover mode between the two massive speaker stacks, with their tongues down each others' throats. Well, if they were lovers too, it just made the show that much more realistic.

Then, with a flourish, the griffon turned and shot out from her pegasus partner and climbed straight to the ceiling, then gave a triple-flip twist before simply yanking her top off, revealing a pair of nice (if a bit feathery) boobs that jutted out proudly from her breast. The crowd underneath went wild, and she smiled at them, placed a hand in front of her midsection and made a grand, polite bow to the audience.

And she was in that position when she finally released all that booze she'd been gorging herself on from the prison of her stomach - and it was a veritable jailhouse riot; the amount of used suds that poured out of her throat didn't seem like it was matching to scale. To think that her tiny, almost dainty beak was spewing forth a column of beer that was almost as big around as my thigh was quite a sight to behold, and the fact it just didn't seem to STOP was just absolutely impressive...

But my favorite part was how she was hovering directly over Blackring when it happened.

Even over the crowd, I could hear the yak scream - and it was the scream of a filly who'd had an ice cube shoved up her snatch. It was high-pitched and squealy, the kind of scream you'd mercilessly tease any colt for making in public, and as soon as I heard it, even within the prison of hands I was trapped in, I laughed my fucking ass off.

This situation, I could get over with time, a few drinks and some therapy, I was sure of it... but the way Blackring screamed would hang around his neck like an albatross for the rest of his life - even if it was for no other reason than the 'filly-colt' getting to hear the mobile drain-clog prove the point of himself.

It was about that time that the doors at the other end were literally kicked open to reveal what looked to be no less than eight fully-uniformed police officers standing there, each one with handcuffs at the ready. The lead cop stepped forward and bellowed in a voice I'm sure she borrowed from Celestia herself:

"IN THE NAME OF THE LAW," she hollered, "YOU ARE ALL UNDER ARREST FOR THIS ILLICIT GATHERING!"

"And noise ordinance," added a stallion next to her.

"AND NOISE ORDINANCE!" she repeated, much more loudly.

Have you ever seen one of those piss-poor apartments where everything's a mess? You ever see what happens when you flick the light on, and the cockroaches go scattering in every direction? Yeah, that's what happened.

My cage, once surrounded by femmes in the closest thing to dance-induced estrus I'd ever seen, was now completely in the clear as all I could see were flanks and heels as the gathered crowd all suddenly decided they'd left their proverbial ovens on, and they had to find a way home rather quickly to deal with the sitch. On one hand, you could call them cowards... on another, you could call them smart.

I just called them various bad names as the cops started heading towards me, the lead officer with a look in her eye that said she did not exactly approve of my nudity, either. Some mares were just immune to the charms of a stallion - this one just seemed to be EXTRA intent on making sure I paid for the partygoers' mistakes.

Glancing backstage, I saw Geneva and Buster holding a freshly-doused kirin between them as they flapped off to the rear doors; great, now I was the distraction for everyone else to get away? What the living FUCK, man!? Even Blackring was nowhere to be seen... even though it wouldn't be too hard to follow the trail of pre-imbibed alcohol that graced the floor and took on the shape of yak-feet as they went behind the curtain.

"So," the policemare said as she reached my cage, "I suppose we'll have to start with YOU, won't we?"

"Well, if it's all the same, I'd rather not," I stated plainly, hoping beyond hope that I could talk my way out of this, yet dreading I wouldn't be able to. Well, shit - bail would set me back a bit, and the cops would doubtless keep an eye on me for a while after that. I'd be lucky if I could get up in the morning without having an officer greet me for breakfast; they would want to know who was responsible for this, and they'd probably hound me for weeks to try to see if I'd lead them to her.

Dammit, V! You're supposed to have BACKUP PLANS for this kind of shit! Where the fuck are you!?

"Well, I don't think you'll have much choice, sir," she said sardonically as she reached for the cage door...

Which was when the lights flared to life.

The stage setup had been going full blast for the length of the party, but had turned off when the cops showed up. Now, with each and every spotlight pointed right at the officers, they were flashblinded by the display, and all raised hands to cover their eyes.

And THAT was when I heard an engine rev, a chain clinking, and saw movement towards the floor.

The central chain that had been gripped in the yak's stupid fucking hands was now zipping along rapidly towards the backstage and out of the rear rolling doorway, meant for loading in equipment that wouldn't fit through a standard door. My eyes followed it until they reached the rapidly departing off-white van outside...

With the chain anchored to its' bumper.

"Oh, fuck me blue," I said right as the chain drew taut, and I let out a scream of my own (stallionly, VERY stallionly) as the cage suddenly jerked up off the floor, tilted crazily along the hallway while leaving a stuttering trail of dents and marks behind it, and flew outside onto the dock, following the van with a LOT of fucking bouncing and rolling!

I now had an idea of what it felt like to be loose change in a dryer.

The cage banged along the wooden planks, knocking holes in the walkway and outright smashing posts as the van shot down the pier, then turned and took off into the parking lot. Of course, as I had little choice, I went with it, sparks indicating the very moment the steel cage hit the asphalt.

The cops looked stunned, and I'd have waved to them as I vanished down the street... but holding onto the cage to keep from being blended like a fruit smoothie was all I could do. Humorous or not, I wouldn't risk it for a smug joke like that.

Well... if Blackring had been there, I might have anyway. Fuck that shitheap.

--==[X]==--

[u ok?] was the text I'd gotten from V every five minutes since we'd managed to get away from the police.

I was currently seated in the back of said van, after having driven through much of town to escape the police... and effectively showing off my birthday suit to the whole damned city before we could find a place to stop, hide and recuperate. I'd been jostled around fiercely, and I could still hear a ringing in my ears from the sounds of the cage bouncing along the street.

"Like I said a HUNDRED times already, I'm fine, V." Really, I wasn't, but I was: I'd gotten into a dance battle with a shapely kirin who'd probably never even give me the time of day now, much less a romp in the hay, I'd been tortured by a self-absorbed asshole who'd enjoyed making me suffer, and I'd been treated like a ball in a bingo-caller's bin...

BUT...

I'd also pretty much WON that dance-off (as dipping my cage into the crowd had actually paid off beautifully), had seen said ass-clown utterly humiliated, and had managed to escape the police without sacrificing my profits for bail money.

What a fucking NIGHT it had been.

[u ok?] blipped up on my phone again, and I gave a soft glare at V, who was busily breaking down the equipment she'd hastily shoved into the van to allow her time to get the chain tied on.

"V... I'm FINE, really." Well, not really... but we had that convo already. "At this point, I just need my pay and I'll head home. No big deal, right?"

She gave me that smirk that said she thought I was cool, even if she never said it. She made her way around to the front, dipped inside for a moment, then came back around and handed me an envelope; inside, doubtless, was the four-twenty she always promised, and I always got. I didn't even check it - we knew each other that well.

"Thanks," I said, then did a double take as she simply held out my tip jar to me. It was filled to the brim with bit bills, with even a few poking out from the drop slot; it had been stuffed full enough that not everything fit inside. I stared at it for a moment, then gave a laugh as I took it from her.

"Okay then, V," I said as I stood up, finally able to keep my balance for longer than a minute and a half, "I guess you'll be back for another in, oh, a couple of months?"

She nodded; knowing her like I did, she'd be damned if she would ever stop putting on these sorts of parties for the folks of Equestria. Where the Mane Six saved lives through action and rainbow lasers, Vinyl Scratch saved Equestria through the power of music and the desire for a good time. She was a bit like Pinkie Pie, only with more suave and subtlety... and considerably less pink.

"Well, you know where to find me," I chuckled as I stood up. V leaned over and gave me a sidelong hug and a matching chuckle as I promised to be there, then started to make my way towards the bus station for a hopeful ride in silence. Raves were great and all, but the aftermath could be just as important and necessary as the party itself.

As I sat there on the bus, looking down at the money-stuffed can hidden in my lap, I thought to myself, 'well, that was certainly a lot calmer than normal - I hope V isn't losing her touch.'

--==[X]==--

TOTAL PAY: 420 bits + 758 bits (Tips)

AFTERMATH: Lay low for a week, blueballs from a kirin and having to remind myself that not all yaks are asshats

WOULD REPEAT CUSTOMER?: Yes (because V's parties are always an adventure)

Performance - Private Rate:

THE JOB: Stage Assistant for a 'Great and Powerfully Sexy Magic Show' for an audience of one

THE PAY: Three-hundred and fifty bits

THE CLIENT: Trixie Lulamoon

--==[X]==--

Okay, confession time.

When I was a colt back on the farm, there was a point where we had a visit in town from a local circus act... and I loved it. I must've spent about two month's worth of my allowance on cotton candy and popcorn alone, and I rode every ride that would allow young colts to experience them. I laughed at the wandering clowns, and had a blast playing the carnival games and winning crap that I wouldn't even look twice at now.

But the BEST part? The magic show! The magician was a smooth and suave stallion who'd gone by 'Mister Miracle', and he was a simple Earth Pony - just like me! - who could do what seemed to be improbable and astounding magic tricks that left us all baffled: 'psychic' guessing games, vanishing/reappearing watches, and more card tricks than you'd see in a single night in Las Pegasus.

And I was there, fully engrossed in watching the stallion do feats of astounding incredulity that defied my little imagination; so young, so naive... and yet, so mystified and entertained by the sight of magic from a pony who had just as much of a horn as I did. It was a moment in time I'll take with me to my grave, and it always brought a grin to my muzz to think about it.

That's why, when I got the request to be an assistant in a 'Great And Powerfully Sexy Magic Show', I practically fell over myself to say yes. I stayed calm on the line, but inside I was filled with joy and excitement - I'd get to enjoy a magic show again... and this time, I'd be a PART of it! I could hardly wait!

After my initial excitement boiled down to a simmer, I managed to catch the bus to the part of town I was scheduled to perform in... I was gonna perform in a magic show! I know, I know; might not seem like much to you, but it was incredibly wonderful for me!

And, as I'm the one telling this story, you can keep your lackadasial opinions to yourself.

Arriving at the location, I found it to be in an older section of town; one I knew wasn't exactly the best part of Manehattan to be in, but it wasn't AWFUL like some of the other areas in this burg were - it was mostly just neglected. Buildings that could use a good pressure-washing, curbs that might benefit from some maintenence, so on and so forth.

The particular building I was scoping out happened to be an old theatre. The sight of it just made me even giddier at the thought of tonight's event; I'd be in a magic show on a legit stage! It'd be like I was a professional magic performer, and my audience would absolutely LOVE me, I was sure of it!

Hey... there ain't much that gets me THIS happy; so I was acting like I was a colt again, so what?

The theatre, though normally abandoned and closed down, looked like it might have seen a slight bit of cleaning - there was less garbage around it, and someone had shined the glass doors to at least a basic sense of clean. It didn't exactly seem like it was a professional job... more like something a couple of kids could have been paid to do.

Two stories... LOTS of Emergency Exits... and a functional fire escape. Okay, as far as making sure I had a way out, I was stellar; even if the building collapsed, I was sure there'd still be at least one way out left. Plus, the street was close, and the lampposts were all lit up in this section of town.

Rule Number Two was totally satisfied, so it seemed as if all I had to do now was await the presence of my client, who had arranged to meet me here at dusk. So, heading to the McDonkey's across the road, I took my time chowing down on a hayburger and some fries while I kept my eyes open for anything that looked like a magician.

As the day came around, my vigilance was rewarded with the sight of a Whinnybago motor home pulling into the back lot of the theatre. It was decorated with all sorts of stars, sparkles and even a large magic wand on either side - like vehicle Cutie Marks! Honestly, if that WASN'T my magical client, then I'd eat my speedos.

Making my way there, I was greeted by the sight of a shapely blue mare who was busily unloading crates from her camper. She looked rather cute, honestly... and even though Rule Number One was there for a reason, there were times I considered breaking it just a little bit.

Then I remembered the BITCH who tried to ruin my life... and I get over the urge pretty fucking quickly.

"Trixie, I presume?" I asked, hoping my somewhat sudden appearance didn't scare the mare.

She gave a sigh. "Yes, I am the Great and Powerful Trixie, huzzah," she said as she set down another crate, seemingly a bit heavy for her, "and you must be-"

Then she turned around and saw me... and her eyes went WIDE. "Buh," she said as she stared at me, those eyes drinking in the tall glass of stallion I was and making damn sure they didn't spill a single, solitary drop. She was transfixed in place as she just goggled over me.

Heh, that's right hon - get your fill.

After a moment, she blinked rapidly as she seemed to collect her head from whatever fantasy she'd been seeing in there. "S-so, YOU are Monty, then?" she said as she looked me up and down, "Well, it seems as if Trixie still knows how to pick 'em! I just went off what you put in your ad; I didn't think you... you were... were..."

I grinned. "You didn't think I was going to be THIS early, right?" Okay, I knew why she was twitterpated, but that didn't mean I couldn't have a little harmless fun myself. "It's okay - I always try to make sure everything's covered for a job, so I usually get there early to-"

"Yes, yes," she interrupted me, "now, if you don't mind, I have a number of crates in the back to bring inside; Trixie would much appreciate your help getting them in." Well... okay, nobody REALLY paid me to run at the mouth, so that was fair.

The blue mare handed me her keys and pointed to the Whinnybago. "You'll see the crates I'll need - they're marked with a four-pointed star; hurry along, now - Trixie doesn't want to keep her audience waiting forever!"

Right. So, as she made her way inside, I gathered the necessary crates and, one by one, managed to porter tham inside the theatre. Though it smelled a bit musty, it was a smell that spoke more of nostalgia than rot - and felt right at home with the idea of a magic show happening tonight.

I was SO STOKED to actually be a part of a magic show, and the colt inside me was absolutely thrilled at the prospect of being a magician's assistant, even if it was only for a single night. Sometimes in life, one night is all that could stand between yourself and your potential future...

Fuck it - even if nobody remembered my face, I'd still be having a Tartarus of a good time becoming like a pseudo-magician, even if nothing came of it besides the pay. It would possibly be an experience that I was going to remember for a very long time, and it was all I could do to keep from giggling giddily like a schoolfilly as I brought in crate after crate into the backstage area.

"So," I said as I brought in the final crate and sat it down carefully, "I take it this is some sort of chance for you to make it big, right? I mean, a single-soul audience - that sounds to me like some sort of big shot or executive who has their eyes on you for some sort of stardom or fame, right?"

Trixie gave a bit of a nervous chuckle. "Eh... w-well, she's a big shot to me, yes..." The magician started fidgeting a bit right then. "But no, it's not some executive or such... though Trixie wouldn't mind the attention..."

She shook herself out of what seemed to be the beginning of a sob story. EVERYONE has one of those, for the record - a tale about their past that garners sympathy from folks you wanted that sort of shit from. I even had my own... but we've had that convo already, so I'll spare the rehash.

"BUT... tonight, the Gr-r-r-r-r-reat and Powerful Tr-r-r-r-rixie will be performing for Starlight Glimmer SOLO!" She then gave a bit of a blush. "Well... almost solo, I guess - sorry. So, Mister, eh... Monty, was it? Mister Monty, how much do you know about Stage Magic?"

I gave a smug smirk. "Well, I can conjure a number of lovesick mares at the drop of my trou - but I'm pretty sure that doesn't count, right?"

Her response was a sardonic look.

"... yeah, so I actually don't know a lot about the mechanics of it, but I DO enjoy it quite a lot! It's a form of magic that ANYONE can do... but it takes a Master Magician to really make the stage shine!" I tried to cover my lame joke with a compliment, hoping that this mare was the kind who liked having their ego stroked.

The haughty grin she gave told me I was right on the money.

"HA HA HAAA! But of course! Any foal can operate a 'trick', but yet a Master Magician like Trixie makes it into a grand and glorious show! Be prepared, Mister Monty, as tonight will be..." she posed dramatically, "a night to remember!"

Oh, this was gonna be SO FUCKING AWESOME!!!

Once we got the crates unpacked, Trixie got busy with setting up while I mostly stuck nearby to lend a hand if necessary. Though she occasionally asked for assistance with little things, I had to admit that she had her routine for setup down pat; everything in its place, and a place for everything. She was an absolute professional, that much was certain.

And I have to admit I was amused that I kept catching the blue mare staring at my flanks; as I said, she was cute. Made me feel good that I could grab the attention of a great magician... and without pulling a single trick of my own, either.

As time got later, Trixie finally finished her setup and made her way over to me. "Now, we should discuss the tricks and what YOU have to do in order for them to go off without a hitch; I have a set idea of which tricks I'll be using - which I've modified a bit, to allow YOU to put on a bit of a show of your own..."

She then pointed a finger skyward and took on a serious expression. "But DON'T try to upstage Trixie - this show HAS to be perfect, and Trixie won't pay to be outshined by a stallion and his, uh... a-assets. Not tonight!" I had ZERO intention of doing so; no way was I going to even try to outdo a Stage Magician!

Even if I had an impressive wand of my own, heh.

"Now, as far as it goes, there'll only be a few things I have to go over with you to make sure you understand what to do tonight," the mare gave me a serious look, "so make sure you pay EXTRA close attention, okay - Trixie does not like to repeat herself."

I nodded, probably a bit more eagerly than I should have; I couldn't help it, as I was about to start learning the inside scoop on Stage Magic! From a professional! The colt in me gave a happy giggle, while the adult on the outside simply nodded and smiled. I could hardly wait to learn what the tricks actually were, and I-

"Ummm, Trixie?" a voice called out from the auditorium, "You in here? Oh, please tell me I got the right address..."

Trixie's head snapped towards the voice, and her eyes went wide. "She's already here!? B-b-but she wasn't due for another-... you know what? Never mind - this will be fine, just fine," she muttered under her breath as she turned and went to greet the... whoa...

The soft purple mare was actually pretty hot; long, shapely legs, pretty muzzle, a nice rack and what looked to be an ass you could grope all night long. She was a stunner, that much was certain - and from the way they hugged, she was also really good friends with the magician.

Wait - was she the audience of one?

"Glad you made it, Starlight," Trixie said as their embrace ended, "even if you DID get here a bit early."

Starlight lifted an eyebrow. "You told me to show up before six; it's before six. If you wanted me here later, you could've said so - I wouldn't have minded."

"Er... I did?" Trixie blinked a bit, then put on a sheepish grin, "Ah-ha-ha... o-of course I did! The Gr-r-r-r-reat and Powerful Tr-r-r-r-rixie is ALWAYS prepared for MAGIC!"

Starlight smiled and rolled her eyes; apparently, she was used to the dramatics. I kind of liked that; snark, but a sort of friendly, 'oh-that's-so-you' attitude. She seemed like she'd be kinda fun to hang out with... though, really, I wouldn't be able to resist hitting on her at least once or twice. I'm a nice guy - not a saint.

Trixie then turned and gestured to me. "And for tonight's show, the part of YOU will be played by Mister Monty, here," she said as she swept a hand in my direction. For my part, I gave a smile and wave to the unicorn mare, doing my best to play nice.

Starlight turned and took one look at me... and stared for a good minute. Oh, she had some interest, I could tell - something inside the mare apparently found me to be delicious, and she wanted a bite herself.

Trixie gave a bit of a smirk. "I take it this means you approve of Trixie's choice of assistants?"

"Uh... y-yeah," Starlight mumbled, then shook herself out of the hypnosis of my bod. "YEAH, uhhh... n-nice to meet you, Mister Monty!" She'd said it a bit too loud and a bit too forcefully for me to believe she was in full control of herself yet, but the poor babe was doing her best not to drool on herself over me. Which I appreciated.

"Yo," I said simply, trying for the laid-back approach; Rule Number One stood, but Starlight wasn't my client. Maybe I could pull off a magic trick of my own and cast a spell over the purple hottie, and have her appear in my bed tonight out of thin air? THAT would be a magic trick I'd cast every chance I could.

"Now, Starlight, go have a seat in the audience and prepare yourself..." the showmare smiled broadly, "for TONIGHT... you shall be honored to witness a magic show unlike any other! One that will dazzle your senses... as well as your libido..."

Starlight gave a small blush; OH, she was adorably hot like that!

"... as you witness The Gr-r-r-r-reat and Powerful Tr-r-r-r-rixie's Amazingly Sexy Magic Show of Delicious Desire!" she finished with a flourish, and her horn popped off a few, small fireworks around her head. Starlight gave her some light applause... and yeah, I did too. I mean, c'mon - the showmare was doing her thing, and she was pretty good at it.

As I watched, Starlight made her way down to the seating and parked herself at center stage, front row. The best seat in the house, most would say - and I'd kinda have to agree. Being up close and personal with the show was fun, as I'd discovered as a kid, because it allowed you to try to see the trick, even if you couldn't.

Because the only folks who preferred to sit in the front row were either critics or fans; it seemed as though both Starlight and myself fit squarely into the second category, and we were both showing signs of looking forward to seeing what the show had in store for us.

Wait. Hold up a minute.

"Uhh, Miss Trixie?" I asked softly, "Were you gonna explain what I was supposed to-"

"SHHH! Not now," she hushed me, "the show is about to begin! Get to the platform and put on the costume back there!"

Cos-... wait, costumes? I don't recall us discussing such a detail... but, fuck it, it was a magic show, so I guess there would be more to it than just going out there and shaking my groove thing while I helped with card tricks. Shrugging, I headed to the slightly raised platform at the left side of the stage, glancing around until I could find this costume she was-...

No. Dude, are you serious?

What I found was only a bowtie, a pair of dress cuffs and a tiny little scrap of fabric that was COVERED in silver sequins. It took a moment for me to register, but when I picked up the fabric, I nearly balked: it was a silver speedo. One that looked to be a bit small for the weight I was carrying, so to speak. Was I supposed to wear THIS for the whole performance?

Still... that old adage drifted through my brain - the show must go on - and I sighed as I began what would probably be an arduous task of getting the silver speedo on my hips and over my girth. And yeah, it WAS arduous, and I DID manage to get it over my dong... but just barely, and I could feel the fabric practically plastering my shaft to my loins - in fact, it was more than a bit tight, to be honest.

But, well... I had to admit, it matched what Trixie was wearing, and it DID make me look like one of those 'Chippentail' dancers from the girly calendars that some of my clients possessed. Made me feel kinda classy and such - and there's nothing wrong with that, I think.

So, doing my best to ignore the sensation of the fully-stretched fabric trying to choke my chicken (and NOT in a good way), I got myself onto the platform and stood there for a bit; frankly, I was afraid that if I sat down, the speedos would simply rip in half on the spot.

It was FOR THE MAGIC, so I stood there and endured, hoping beyond hope that Trixie would at least give me the quick rundown on what tricks lie in store for me - even if she did so right before each trick.

"TONIGHT," I heard the magician's voice call out in almost a Royal Canterlot volume, "YOU shall bear WITNESS to a most Gr-r-r-r-reat and POWERFUL stage show! For tonight, you shall enjoy sights and spells unknowable and incredible, and amidst the glorious magic, my hot and sexy assistant shall make CERTAIN you pay the utmost attention!"

From the look on Starlight's muzzle, she seemed to be used to the theatrical dramatics... and yet, she was still smiling and watching the proceedings with visible interest... and that interest included my own, humble self as well - at least, if the sight of her eyes repeatedly wandering to the sparkly speedo I was wearing was any indicator.

"And so, as we have quite a night prepared for you, we shall begin with something simple... that will ASTOUND you!" The blue mare made a flourish with her hands, and a deck of playing cards seemed to just appear in them, without even a flash from her horn. Internally, the colt in me gave a squee of delight - the show had started!

"For this trick, Trixie shall require you to choose a card, so that she might be able to display for you... The Naughty Knowledge Trick!" she flourished the cards with a quick riffle, then held them up and fanned them out, with the card faces pointed to the floor.

Starlight gave a smirk, then her horn lit up as a single card levitated from the fan. It zipped over to her, where she examined it thoroughly before looking up at Trixie with a grin. "Okay, got it!"

"Excellent! Now," she gestured with the fan still in her hands, "return it to the pile, and the Gr-r-r-r-reat and Powerful Tr-r-r-r-rixie shall ASTOUND and STUPEFY you by accurately revealing your card!"

The purple mare chuckled a bit to herself. "Trixie, I already KNOW this tri-"

"Never you mind that!" Trixie quickly interrupted, "just put the card back, Starlight! I put little twists on all sorts of stuff - can't you trust me to astound and stupefy you? At least for a minute?" The magician sounded a little petulant, but if this was her friend, then it was more likely to be good-natured teasing than anything else.

Starlight rolled her eyes in a playful manner, then floated the card back to the fan and re-inserted it randomly. Trixie then smiled, threw the entire deck into the air and her horn flashed - and the whole group of playing cards went up in a quick burst of flame! I ducked back instinctively from the flash of fire, but both mares simply gave a grin as it happened.

Then, Trixie gave a smile that told me she was fully in control here, and that was great news. She made a flourish with her wand, then pointed said wand at... my dick?

"From ash to life, bring forth the truth - prove the worth of Trixie's magic! BEHOOOOOOOLD!" she called out as she waved the wand in a grandiose fashion before she pointed it directly at...

Wait. The fuck was THAT sensation?

"Mister Monty, my gr-r-r-r-reat and powerfully sexy assistant, will now reveal the card to you, which will leave you wondering exactly how much Tr-r-r-r-rixie's magic can accomplish!" she said loudly, before lowering her voice and grumble-whispering to me: "Reach down the front of your bottoms..."

Curious, I did as I was told - though it was most certainly causing the exceedingly tight fabric there to stretch even further, which certainly wasn't helping my level of physical comfort any. But I had barely gotten even a fingertip in where I encountered...

HOLY FUCK - there was a CARD in here!

Trying my best not to give away how stupefied I was over this, I reached down and pulled the playing card from the speedo I was wearing, holding it out to be seen. Trixie smiled, gave a bit of a haughty laugh, then turned to Starlight. "And so - THIS is your car-"

"Nope," said Starlight, "it's not."

Trixie stopped, mid-sentence, and blinked. She turned and looked at the card, blinked again, then turned back to Starlight. "This... but, this is... it's..." She looked at the card again. "It's NOT?"

The card in question was a seven of clubs. It looked like an average playing card, and from as close as I was, I couldn't make out any markings of any kind that might reveal the card's identity to the magician... however, that didn't concern me as much as the thought of HOW THE FUCK DID THAT CARD END UP IN MY SPEEDOS!?

Because I promise you, as much of a struggle as they had been to put on, there was NO chance of a hidden compartment or anything. Shit, there was barely enough room for my balls; where would there be room for a playing card when it felt like these things were so tight, they were grafting into my skin! I was worried that one or two of the sequins might actually engage in melding themselves to my coat and flesh; granted, it might be a flashy treat for my customers, but I didn't want ANYTHING embedded in my flesh... I didn't even have piercings, for crying out loud!

"Well, that... er..." Trixie looked a bit embarrassed, and began to look around on the floor. "Great and Powerful Assistant! Help me check the floor!" She leaned down (flashing me a lovely view of her blue cleavage) and began to search the foor insistently... even though the stage only had a few particles of ash to search through.

Regardless, I tried to help; I even turned away from the purple hottie and began to look around at all the-

"HA!" Starlight called out, and I turned to see her pointing at me and giggling. What the...

As she was pointing at my ass, I hoped she wasn't making fun of me in these damned chokehold speedos - I was sure that my butt cheeks were sticking out, but NOT in a very sexy manner. I turned to glance back there... and found a playing card wedged between my cheeks!

I reached back and pulled it out, giving it a look - two of hearts. What was it doing in-

"THAT'S my card!" Starlight laughed, and Trixie, wearing a HUGE manure-eating grin, gave a bow with a flourish as her friend gave a light clap at the act's resolution.

Okay... look, I do NOT like being touched... but, essentially speaking, the magician never actually touched me. Still, the idea that something had been placed in my ass-crack and I hadn't even noticed - combined with the mysterious wrong card in my crotch - was starting to make me worry. Granted, I'd keep going because the show must go on... but having random shit placed on me without my knowledge... OR permission... was a bit disconcerting.

It's all a part of the show, I reminded myself - which did help. I mean, it was Stage Magic; did I really expect the expected?

There were a few more simple card tricks, but all of them were rather tame - though it did give me the chance to pose and strut a bit. And, for what it was worth, the purple unicorn most certainly seemed to have an interest in watching my performance.

Trixie, for what it was worth, was certainly doing her best to entertain an audience of one; were they really such close friends? I mean, I had some friends of my own, yeah - but I don't think any of 'em would have put together a magic show for little ol' me.

And aside from that, Trixie's outfit was... somewhat distracting. She wore the voluminous cloak and hat with moons and stars all over them for the stage show, yeah... but the sequin-coated one piece she wore beneath that lended a number of nice views of the mare's bust and backside - both of which were quite a nice sight to see - and was practically a second skin, though probably nowhere NEAR as tight as these damned speedos.

But was she THAT obsessed over getting the stage show right that she was dressing up like that for a show meant for a single audience member? It didn't make sense...

Anyhoo, after a total of five simple card tricks, she went backstage and brought out a prop box that was covered in moons and stars - her theme, I took it - and presented it with a flourish. "Behold! The Box of Infinite Mystery! What lies within it's unknowable depths? Well, TONIGHT - there will be this hunky stallion!"

What.

That box might have been big enough for me to curl up in... IF I was wearing normal clothing. This bloodflow-choking bastard on my hips would either cut off ALL the veins to my lower body, or it would rip clean in half if I even so much as TRIED to sit down in it, much less curl up and allow it the box's lid to close.

But, well shit... the show must go on, right?

With a sigh, I looked at Trixie, and she gave me that smile that said 'get in the fucking box'. So, even with the knowledge that my thighs were going to go numb rather quickly, I did as I was instructed and stepped into the box. I then proceeded to stand there, looking a little petulant while Trixie smiled a thanks to me.

"The box is a magic all its own," she replied, "as I shall now demonstrate; with my assistant ensconced safely inside, there will be NO way he could ever be harmed!" Starlight lifted an eyebrow; this must've been a new one. "And so - we begin!"

Turning for face away from her friend, she began to busy herself with the box. "When you get inside," she whispered to me, "there's a latch at the bottom - just flip it and climb down into the hollow under the stage. Wait for me to open the box, then you can stand up. Got it? Good! Get going!"

"Wait, how-" was all I got out before Trixie turned back to face her audience and started talking up the trick. Okay, well... I guess it wouldn't be so bad, if there was a way for me to be safe. Cautiously, I squatted down into the box, having to turn on my side to fit completely within it enough to close the lid.

FUCKING SHIT. It felt like those speedos were trying to pop my balls like pimples! My nutfruit was squeezed so tightly, I'm sure I was mere seconds from being milked by the fuckin' things! It was REALLY painful, though I stifled my groan of agony as I began seeking out this 'latch' Trixie had mentioned.

From outside, Trixie closed the lid on me and continued to speak. "And now, witness as the Box of Infinite Mystery uses it's magic to PROTECT the stallion inside... as I run these razor-sharp sabers through the sides!"

Night of the WHAT!? Oh fuck, where was that fucking latch!? My hands now scrambled along the bottom of the box, seeking desperately for the latch that would allow me to be out of the way of these sabers she was going to put through here! I DID NOT WANT TO BE A LIVING FUCKING SCABBARD!

Behind me, my hand found a small lever, and I sighed in relief as I tripped it. The bottom clicked open as quiet as a mouse fart, and I let out a sigh of relief as I worked my body down into the hole in the stage.

Now, let me take a moment to explain that MOST magicians made their gear themselves, so that they could use exact measurements in their work. This way, they used every bit of available space for setups and extras that would normally take a lot more work to keep handy. Because of this, many tricks were tailored to the ones who frequently did them.

Which, as Trixie was a petite mare, meant that in the course of lowering myself into the hole... I got stuck.

My body had made it perfectly into the hole... but my head was still stuck in the box. Not only that, but from where I was seated, there were ZERO options as to what to do; there wasn't enough room for me below to curl up to bring my head down into safety, and I couldn't stand up with the lid closed!

That, plus the idea that the show must go on, kept me from speaking up - but I was now officially sweating bullets. My life might be in danger, for fuck's sake! Shouldn't THAT warrant a need to stop this before it got bloody?

However, at that exact moment in my train of thought, something slid across the back of my head, lightly brushing my mane to the side as it ground into place. OH SHIT! She'd already started!

"Will he live? Will he die? We shall find out for ourselves, shortly!" Trixie's voice was loud enough to reach my ears, and she sounded as if she were getting into 'The Zone', and there was NO WAY I wanted to be responsible for ruining her stage show... but MY LIFE was a bit more important than-

Another sliding noise, and I saw what looked like a blade, coming right for my muzzle! I couldn't duck, I couldn't dodge - I WAS GONNA DIE IN THIS DAMNED THING-

"Ow," I said as it poked me in the forehead... which was when I discovered that these 'blades' were actually made of cheap balsa wood, and weren't sharp at all - they were being placed into the box through barely-there slots that allowed for prop swords like these to go through. Which meant I was NOT about to be cut to ribbons! Oh, THANK CELESTIA...

"Ow," I repeated as the fake sword poked at my head again, this time a bit more insistently. Breathing a sigh of relief that my client wasn't FUCKING PSYCHOPATHIC, I tilted my head to the left, where the wooden blade passed harmlessly next to my temple and out through the opposing slot.

Of course, NOW I was in a bit of an uncomfortable situation... and, as I watched, ANOTHER fake blade began to wiggle its way towards my head. I leaned back a bit, and it passed under my chin and out through the other side like it's sibling. Now, I had to hold my head at a weird angle to keep those blades from pressing into my skin; they may not have cut, but there was always the chance for splinters.

Another blade poked through. And another, and another, and at least six more. By the time the blades stopped coming through the box walls, my head was in such an awkward position that I could feel my neck cramping up quickly. I also had a section of wooden blade in my mouth - and NO, I wasn't happy about it.

"Behold! By all rights, this stallion could and should be deceased, run through with sabers sharper than an alicorn's horn!" Yeah, right - at best, they were about as sharp as a wet noodle... but they WERE stiff enough to hold my head in a position that would have been naturally impossible without the forced 'help' of the other blades holding it in place.

"And yet - HE LIVES! Allow the Gr-r-r-r-reat and Powerful Tr-r-r-r-r-rixie to remove these blades, and ASTOUND you with how the box has protected him from even the lightest form of harm!" Yeah, except for trying to make my neck play an unplanned game of Twister!

One by one, each fake saber was slid back out, releasing my head little by little from the stilted and uncomfortable position it was in; when the last one slid out (to my utter relief), I managed to clamber my body back into the box and pull the latch into place just as she lifted the lid.

Trixie made a flourish towards me and the box, grinning with confidence that the trick was an utter success. "And so, my assistant - stand up and PROVE the box's power!"

I stood up slowly, as my legs were tingling with pins and needles after having to kneel in these damn ball-huggers for the past few minutes. Stage Magic was fun... but I had no idea it could be this sort of painful, too. But I was willing to chalk that up to 'chaos' and let it go - especially as I'd dealt with the entity known as 'Discord' once before, and had personally seen what Chaos Magic was capable of.

Starlight smiled and gave an appreciative clap, and I felt inclined to take a bow for my singular audience... and had to hold my bow only a fraction of the way, as those speedos stretched tightly enough that I could swear the mares around me could tell I was circumcised!

Okay - card tricks, box trick... what was next? Frankly, though I was still somewhat excited to be a part of this magic show... I was beginning to get a few apprehensions as to what this show would further foist onto me; maybe I had to take a look at Rule Number Three again and decide if an act like this would require a bit more of an investment...

Now, she brought out TWO large, standing boxes that were bedecked with her thematic moons and stars. They were tall boxes, which meant that I would probably be stepping into at least one of them shortly. I saw no 'slots' on the sides, so I figured it was safe to assume that there wouldn't be any 'sabers' this time; quite a relief.

"And now, observe as I, the Gr-r-r-r-reat and Powerful Tr-r-r-r-rixie, endeavor to defy the modern tenets of magic, and transport my hunky assistant," okay, it felt good to be noticed, "from one side of this stage to the other - and NOPONY will be able to tell how the MAGIC works!"

Oh? Teleporting without teleporting? This would be interesting... though the idea that I was going to have to DO the trick with no prior knowledge was a bit daunting. But, just like the box had been, I was... er, mostly certain that this would turn out well.

Opening the leftmost crate, she gestured into it with a sweep of her arm that made her bust bounce nicely. Let me tell you, if there was some kind of trick where I could possibly get BOTH of these beautiful mares to go home with me tonight, I'd change professions in half a hoofbeat... but, Rule Number One, blah blah blah.

Giving Starlight one of my patented disarming smiles, I stepped into the crate. Before closing the door, Trixie gave another stage whisper: "All you have to do is keep your arms at your sides and fall into place..."

Fall into place? Hold up, what-

She closed the door, and I could feel a little shiver of worry work its' way up my spinal column; falling into ANYTHING didn't exactly bolster my spirits, and her warning made me begin to wonder WHY I needed to keep my arms in place. Stage shows notwithstanding, I wasn't keen on the idea that I'd be falling into... well, SOMEthing. Yet another reason to be a bit hesitant.

Regardless, I could hear Trixie continuing her act. "Now, with a simple shuffle of boxes, there will be MAGIC occurring right before your very eyes!"

"Trixie... magic happens before my eyes every day; I'm a unicorn, you know," I heard the purple mare reply.

Heh, I liked the snark in her; she was spunky, and would probably be fun to hang out with as well as in the sack. And with jubblies like hers, I'd be more than happy to offer a chance to chill with me later. Maybe at my place. A nice rom-com or something. Maybe some booze, maybe not. Perhaps a massage, even - I was pretty accomplished with my hands, and I'd have loved to put those on that luscious, curvy-

HOLY FUCKSTICK, THE CRATE WAS LIFTING UP!

It was weird and disorienting when you had next-to-no sight, and yet felt yourself go airborne. I assumed this was that shuffling she'd mentioned for the trick, but nobody had said a damned thing about levitation. Granted, it was a staple of Magic Acts, but the assistant usually had some sort of heads-up BEFORE things like this happened!

Now, I felt myself being floated around, and I heard the occasional >whack< or >thunk< as the two boxes apparently kept colliding with each other during their shuffle. If all I was going to do was get banged around (NOT in a good way) like this, then may-

When the floor of the crate suddenly dropped open, it was all I could do to keep myself from crying out in surprise; sure enough, I fell into the other box just as the lid closed on top of it.

Now, as a living, breathing being, I have to admit that I had a few reflex reactions that I simply couldn't control - and one of them was gripping the sides of the crate I'd been in when I started to fall. The upshot of such was that, instead of falling straight in, I fell in a little bit sideways...

And now, inside the second crate, I found myself almost muzzle-to-muzzle with my own crotch. No, I wasn't folded COMPLETELY in half... but it felt like I was, and my back groaned in protest, even as it felt like those cursed speedos were trying to slice me in half as they strained to stay together.

The crate continued to float around a little more, lending me nothing but more pain as my weight wedged me further and further down into the horribly uncomfortable box. When they were sat down again, a gave a very soft, light groan as I slid down another inch, my butt hovering over the floor as my feet were pointed at the roof.

I swear, I will NEVER fold my bit-bills again - not if this is what it felt like to be inside a wallet.

"Behold!" Trixie's voice came to me through the wooden walls, "This box is now - EMPTY! But where did my great and powerfully sexy assistant go?"

Into a Tartarus that can barely be described, I thought to myself, quit the showboating and get me OUT of here!

"The other box! Check the other box!" Starlight called out with a laugh.

"Starlight!" Trixie sounded a bit put-out, "I'm getting to it! Be patient!"

My... thighs... were... going... to... SNAP...

She cleared her throat and continued. "And so! As the mystical magics have been conscripted for this amazing task..."

FUCK, my LEGS! My BACK! MY POOR FUCKING COCK WAS SUFFOCATING!!!

"... they are now ready to reveal the fate of our incredible assistant! And where else would he be, but-"

The door to the box opened, and I fell out unceremoniously onto my face. Admittedly, I didn't think such an old theatre floor would taste so piney after being unused for so long; then again, maybe she had it polished and waxed for the show?

Realizing I was still on stage as part of an act, the colt in me grabbed hold of my motor skills and leapt up into a standing position, where I held out my arms and gave a huge smile as I loudly pronounced, "TA-DA-DAAAAAAA!"

Starlight's eyes bugged out, and after a moment, so did Trixie's... as, in the precarious position I'd been in, coupled with the extremely tight speedo had engaged my circulatory system into a state where a portion of my blood had ended up trapped within my center as I was folded in half...

Or, in more basic terms, I had a RAGER of a hard-on - and miraculously, it was juuuuuust hard enough to make the speedo into an extremely tight tent at the front. A tent pole that was pointed right at Starlight Glimmer... and trust me, she was taking QUITE a bit of notice of that.

Trixie was too... but there was something on her muzz that looked... irritated? Frustrated? I wasn't sure what it was, but I guessed that I'd embarrassed her in front of her friend, and on stage of all things; even though I was trying to display nothing but happy expressions, I felt kinda bad that I might have been inadvertently ruining her show.

Starlight took a moment before she clapped... though even that sounded distracted, as it was light and off-beat clapping that she produced as her eyes stayed glued to my barely-restrained shaft, with a look on her face that said she was getting a few ideas as to where she wanted that pillar to go.

Trixie, undaunted, gave a slight hmmph as she stood again and tried her best to recover from the, er, 'surprise guest' in the glittery fabric. Yeah, she gave it a few looks as well... but I somehow got the feeling those glances were more out of annoyance than appreciation.

She stood and gave a flourish that gathered Starlight's attention from my shaft. "NOW, for your entertainment, we have... uhhhh..."

Wait... what was she doing? Didn't she have all her tricks ready in a specific order? Her hesitation made that little 'trouble' nerve in the back of my head tingle - the consequences were slowly getting more and more concerning for me, as the only assistant for this show. Part of me was beginning to think that, before I finished this show, I'd be injured... or possibly worse.

I was starting to think that Trixie wasn't exactly a professional, after all; could it be possible that, underneath the glitter and glamour of the magic business, Trixie might have just been someone who sought to elevate their own status by using others to make her look good - and she might have also been the kind who would have gotten along swimmingly with Domino Fortune.

"... h-have a SPECIAL TREAT for you tonight, as the Gr-r-r-r-reat and Powerful Tr-r-r-r-rixie puts forth one of the most daring stunts ever to be performed on a stage such as this!" Her voice reasserted dominance, and the unsurety left her as completely as it could; she sounded revitalized, as if she'd gotten her second wind... or had come up with something at the last second.

That last option had me worried.

Now, she dashed backstage as I stood there; Starlight and I looked after her, then looked at each other and shrugged. Neither one of us had any idea what was going to happen here, and all we could do was wait. I looked over at her again, admiring the many curves her figure was sporting, and gave a slight shrug.

"Liking the show so far?" I asked nonchalantly; no reason I couldn't make some small talk during this 'intermission', and maybe it would help the babe's intentions swing over to my side of the fence... the side that led to my bedroom, then to my bed, then to pure bliss.

She gave a half-hearted shrug again, then smiled. "Eh, I've seen a lot of her tricks - but seeing them with someone like YOU is kinda nice." Her muzz threw me a soft grin with partially-lidded eyes that said she was being a little flirty... and I loved the possibilities that sent through my own mind. I could probably kiss those beautiful boobs all day long... and a good portion of the night, too.

Oh, I really hoped I could score with her - a body like that would be SO NICE to caress, kiss, and fuck the dogshit out of. I mean, seriously - I still hadn't really had much chance to make up for the 'kirin fiasco' at V's rave, and this was starting to look like the PRIMO chance to score some points with a beautiful babe... and the fact that she was known to be a pupil of Twilight Sparkle meant that possibly word of this would get back to the virginal alicorn and make her blush...

DAMN, but Princess Twilight was so cute when she was aroused... though honestly, even though giving an adorkable mare a few pleasant dreams wasn't quite in the same realm as getting the chance to knock a hot, curvy mare's womb around a bit. I hoped Miss Glimmer was convincing herself to ask me out, because I would be so very pleased to share the pleasure of sexual gratification between the two of us. Maybe even let HER have the lion's share of the pleasure... so that later on, she'd feel the want to do so for me in tur-

"BEHOLLLLLLLD!" Trixie's bellow was loud enough to approach Royal Canterlot Voice levels as she came from backstage pushing what looked like... dammit, not another box!

This one was more ornate and showy than her previous boxes... but a box is a box, all the same. And after the experiences I'd already had in the boxes I'd dealt with today, there was no fucking way I was getting into anoth-

"And now, the Gr-r-r-reat and Powerful Tr-r-r-r-rixie shall demonstrate her mastery over death itself by surviving the Cabinet of Calamity! She will place herself in the box and, with the help of her sexy assistant, she will endure the Flames of Desire long enough to burn - and yet, she shall be UNTOUCHED!"

... oh. Well, that was alright, then.

She lifted the lid and gestured for me to move closer. When I did, she spoke softly enough to make sure she wasn't overheard. "When Trixie knocks three times, use the sparker to start the fire - the box is alrady prepared, so just light it and get back, okay? Good - now DON'T UPSTAGE ME!"

That said, she turned and gave a low bow to her audience of one (DAMN, but that was a nice ass) and climbed into the box, pointing at the latches before shutting the lid. As a good assistant, I made sure to secure the latches tightly before picking up the weird little wire-thingy that I assumed was the 'sparkler' or some shit.

It was simple enough to figure out once I squeezed the handle, so with it in hand, I turned and posed on the box as I wiggled my eyebrows at Starlight, making her both giggle and smile in a manner that said she was probably considering what position we were gonna try first when she got in the sack with me tonight.

Oh, I HAD to work that angle!

I put my hands on the crate and, using that hip motion I was so good at, I started rolling those agile hips of mine against the cabinet as I locked my eyes onto hers. I could see the effect I was getting as her pupils widened, her breathing picked up, and she squirmed in her seat a bit; it reminded me of Princess Twilight, but being her student, that didn't surprise me much... though the purple mare's act of licking her lips was certainly not the action of an adorkable virgin.

I was so into keeping her attention that I almost missed the knock from inside the box. I brought the spark-doodad up and squeezed the handle, holding it towards the box to ignite the little flames it would probably-

The moment the very first sparks touched the side of the box, the entire thing burst into flame!

Had she been soaking this thing in fucking kerosene!? It went up like flash paper, and the instant heat sent me reeling back from it as it burned merrily in front of us both. Starlight was still seated, but even she sat forward when the box lit up, completely breaking eye contact with me in concern for her friend.

Just before I ran to grab a fire extinguisher, the box teetered and collapsed, falling in on itself into a heap of smouldering, charred wood... with not a single trace of the Great and Powerful Trixie inside. As we both stared, wide-eyed, the box from the saber trick suddenly popped open, and up stood-...

Wow.

Trixie was standing there with her arms spread wide in a dramatic gesture, but instead of the sequin-lined one piece she'd been wearing, she was now clad in a skimpy little g-string bikini that shone with silver glitter, and her amazing body was now pretty much on full display - and there was very little left to the imagination.

Dammit, Rule Number One - why do you have to exist!?

Starlight started clapping rather eagerly; apparently, this trick HAD been a new one to her, and she approved of it completely. Trixie, for what it was worth, gave Starlight a broad smile and a low bow - right in front of me.

OH, DAT ASS...

Why did I still feel heat, though? I mean, she was HOT, but that didn't mean literally... why would... ow... OW... OW!?

I glanced down at my loins, where the heat was coming from... and saw that the fucking sequins on the speedos were actually fucking BURNING! I was on fire, AND I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW IT!? Did some of the fuel for the fire get on my crotch when I was dry-humping the fucking box!? HOLY SHIT!

Trixie turned when I gave a gasp, and both her and Starlight's eyes went wide as they saw the flames on my dick - and of the two, the magician reacted instantly, with a flash of her horn - and just like that, the heat was gone. But now, there was a bit of a breeze... so I looked down to see what was going on, as well as to make sure the merchandise wasn't damaged.

My rigid column was at full attention and completely in the free and open air... except for the very tip, which was covered by a small, pink teacup.

No damage to the 'Big Boss' or the 'Flunkies', but there were highly visible lines from where the strangling speedos had pulled their tightest on me. I saw the revelation of my moneymaker, then looked up at Starlight and gave my best and biggest goofy grin.

"Abracadabra!" I said, which sent the purple mare into hysterics as she started laughing her (fine) ass off, having to hold onto the seat behind her to keep from falling over. Apparently, my gift of wit had served me well yet again... and, as it was well known, guys that made mares laugh usually ended up in the sack with them.

Then, I slid my eyes sideways to see how my client was handling... the, uh... i-issue...

The Great and Powerful Trixie was glaring at me... and there were tears standing in her eyes. She looked to be a combination of pissed off and miserable, and I couldn't understand why... until I thought about it as I looked at her...

The show being SO important. The line about her 'not minding the attention'. The tiny bikini she was wearing. All together, it made perfect sense to me now:

The Great and Powerful Trixie had a great and powerful crush on Starlight Glimmer.

She wasn't mad because the show wasn't going well; she was mad because, even after her requests, I was still stealing the show - and Starlight - from her. Fuck, NOW I felt like a heel - here she was, trying to let her friend know she had an interest in her, and all her sexy attention was on the hired gun, so to speak.

And now, with Doctor Dongus swinging free, she probably felt like she had a foal's chance in Tartarus for the purple unicorn to even consider a roll in the hay with the magician. Shit, the way Starlight was staring at it, she might not wait to get home first before trying to enjoy it - she may have been making plans for she and I to meet in the parking lot!

Trixie's expression quickly fixed itself before Starlight caught it, and she gave a frustrated sigh as she faced her audience of one and gave a short, curt bow. "Thank you for attending the show...I hope you enjoyed yourself," she said, her voice petulant as she turned and stormed off backstage, while Starlight made her way over to where I was.

Those eyes were practically glued to my nethers as she got close, and her smile was broad and sultry as she leaned on the stage itself, giving me a grandiose view of The Promised Land Valley between the Purple Mountains.

"Not bad for a magic assistant," she said with a soft chuckle, "though I think maybe you and I could practice a few tricks ourselves, you know what I mean?"

FUCK, she was hot to trot!

"So, if you're not doing anything later..." she ended her question with a lift of her eyebrow. All it would take would be even the slightest hint of my approval, and this fine-flanked filly would be all over me; I could see it in her eyes that she was already trying to prepare herself mentally for taking a monster like mine into a pussy like hers.

I sighed. Why was it never easy?

"Look, miss," I started, "as much as I'd like to do all sorts of delicious, nasty and occasionally illegal things to your magnificent bod... I'm..." Oh, fuck me blue. "... gonna have to decline, babe."

Her expression went from lusty to understandably confused. "But... I don't-"

"In case you didn't notice," I went on, "your friend over there was pretty much throwing herself at you in a bid to get your attention. And to have a magician put together a sexy show for 'just a friend' doesn't seem right to me; seems like there could be something more there that you're not seeing... something that, if you continue NOT to see it, is gonna do nothing but bring your friend shame and sadness."

She blinked - this news obviously shocked her. "Wha-, bu-, I... Trixie? You're saying she... she thinks of me as..."

Wow, clueless much? Of course, I couldn't exactly say very much on that end; after all, it had taken getting a teacup on my dong for ME to realize it... so, maybe I wouldn't exactly say that to her right now.

"Whatever it is she thinks of you as, you two should talk about it." I nodded my head towards the backstage area. "Whether you are or aren't interested, that mare's been kinda excited to show this off to you... and miss? Not to sound like I'm being condescending or any shit like that, but you've kinda been paying more attention to me than her... and she kinda knows it."

Okay, yeah - I'm sure it wouldn't exactly be easy for me to pay attention to very much if, for example, Starlight popped her lovely tits out of her top and tried engaging in conversation with me; I was ready to easily forgive the same from a mare who was literally within reaching distance of my unclothed member.

Well, mostly unclothed; the teacup was still there - did it count as clothing, though?

Starlight's muzzle grew a look that said she was most certainly contemplating what I'd told her; it wasn't clear if she thought Trixie was good as JUST a friend, or if she was actually contemplating a bit of 'squish & tickle' with the magician herself. Granted, I could feel me kicking myself internally - she'd been ready to swallow me whole, I was SURE of it - but, underneath the cynical bastard I was, there lived a sweet little colt who still believed in magic... and the power of real love.

And that colt was making fucking puppy-dog eyes at me.

"Go on, right now," I encouraged her even as my libido was screaming obscenities at me in my noggin, "and have a little chat with her. Someone like that, willing to go to such lengths as hiring a stripper to hide the fact she was flirting with you... someone like that IS a true, true friend... and possibly more, if you're up for it. Talk to her."

Starlight Glimmer, pupil of Princess Twilight Sparkle and headmare of Twilight's Friendship Academy, put on a serious look, gave me a nod and made her way backstage in the direction Trixie had walked off in. Whichever way it was going to go, I still had to say that tonight might have been irksome and maybe even a tad dangerous...

But it was STILL magical... and even if I was gonna have to have a one night stand with my own right hand, the colt in me was singing happily and skipping alongside my adult self, thanking him profusely for being a 'good guy'. And even if it didn't get me laid, I could still look myself in the mirror when I went home.

FUCK, I needed a win.

--==[X]==--

"It really means a lot to Trixie," the blue mare said softly, "that you said what you did to Starlight."

Standing in the back alleyway, I was dressed again. Trixie had her moon-and-stars cloak wrapped around her, and she looked adorable (and kinda hot) with the humble, embarrassed look on her muzz. She and Starlight had spent quite some time talking privately, and there had seemed to be a hopeful look to the magician as she met with me afterward.

Starlight had already left, but she'd stopped by long enough to thank me as well; I might have been entertaining the idea that she might hook up with her friend, then they'd both give me a call... but, as far as Life usually went, I know there was very little chance that I'd ever be so lucky.

"And here I'd thought that you were trying to pick up Starlight," she blushed, "which was why I got so jealous. Trixie-... er, I apologize, Mister Monty, for not being clearer about tonight's intentions."

I shook my head. "Hindsight's always 20-20, miss... besides, I was just glad I got to be in a magic show; been a dream of mine since I was a colt. So thanks for that." I then cleared my throat. "Now, about that payment..."

Trixie's eyes went W-I-D-E. "Uhhhhh... ummmmm... eh, M-Mister Monty, uhm... I, ah..."

Oh no. Oh FUCK no. She wouldn't... after what I did for her, she fucking WOULDN'T...

"It seems that, er... Trixie didn't exactly calculate in ALL the costs for tonight, um..." she fidgeted, the look on her face slowly morphing into a sheepish smile, "... between the props, the cleanup that Trixie paid for a-and the theatre... well, er..."

"Are you saying," I said, slowly and somewhat menacingly, "that you spent so much on this show that you can't afford to PAY me?" Oh, this night just went from bittersweet to FUCKING SHIT.

"Ahh..." The mare took the hat off her head, reached into it and produced a woefully small handful five-bit notes. She held them out to me with an extremely apologetic look on her muzz. "Er... ta-da?"

"Oh, you fucking-" was all I got out of my mouth before she made a quick gesture and >POOF< - a big-ass cloud of smoke suddenly appeared out of nowhere and blinded me! By the time I was able to see anything, all I caught was the tail end of a star-and-moon laden cloak vanishing around the corner.

I stared after her, dumbfounded that she would have the fucking GALL to stiff me like this after I ruined my own chances at balling her hopeful-marefriend so she could have her moment to confess her love or some shit like that! THE FUCKING NERVE!

I gave a great gust of a sigh and turned to storm off to the bus station, jamming my hands into my pockets as I-...

...

... stopped where I was, and the look of anger slowly melted from my features as I realized that Fate had thrown me a bone, after all.

Turning, I walked calmly over to the Whinnybago as I pulled her keys from my pocket and slid behind the wheel. It started up as pretty as you please, and I put it into drive and made my way out onto the road.

I didn't have to KEEP the damned thing... I only had to hold onto it until I got my proper pay for the night I'd had to go through. It sounded perfectly fair to me, and I actually gave a snarky grin as I drove off towards my apartment.

Rule Number Five, bitchboots.

--==[X]==--

TOTAL PAY: 35 Bits + 315 Bits (Later Settlement)

AFTERMATH: Glimmer-induced blueballs, speedo avoidance, some driving practice and the realization that Stage Magic is for the birds

WOULD REPEAT CUSTOMER?: NO. FUCKING. WAY.