Pornstars are strange members of society, they could become famous, but were seldom discussed in polite conversation, and with the advent of the internet, magazines and books featuring pornographic content were not used as much as they once were.
The “Zebra domination” and “striped” kink had changed all that however. The pornstar known as Scarlet Whip had become something of a superstar, at least in the shady corners and brightly lit neon strip clubs where one would feel comfortable discussing such things.
Inkjet was a reporter. He didn’t work for a big paper, he hadn’t broke any groundbreaking news, and he didn’t go chasing large stories. The stallion told simple stories about day to day life of different ponies, along with folktales, and whatever else caught his eye on the day.
The news was always full of depressing stories, but with his paper, he hoped to give people something to look at and make their own choices about.
So when Scarlet Whip had accepted his request to interview her, he had been amazed. She hadn’t let any of the big papers do a story on her, making the only place one could get information about her the magazine company she was contracted to or the internet.
He was out of his depth. To begin with he thought the letter had been sent in error, but that didn’t mean he was going to pass an opportunity up like this.
Honestly, he looked like quite the sight himself, a magenta stallion laden down with a heavy pack filled with camping supplies, recording equipment and other things of that sort, his prized polaroid camera hanging from a string around his neck as his wobbling hooves carried him towards the grand mansion within which Scarlet Whip lived.
A grand ironwork gate with a security booth outside of it posed the first challenge to the stallion, but he wasn’t dissuaded, at least until he got close enough to make out the security guard, a hulking brown stallion covered in scars from griffon talons. An ex-guard, his reporter senses surmised, and they were rarely wrong.
“I am here to see Scarlet Whip, the name is Inkjet, I’m a reporter.” He said, somehow managing to prevent his voice from wobbling. The stallion in the plain brickwork hut stared down at Inkjet, the stallion looking like an ant carrying a leaf with the large khaki backpack weighing him down.
“Did you bring the kitchen sink and a bundle of dynamite with you, kid? What’s with that backpack.” The battle scared stallion asked, piercing blue eyes staring down at Inkjet as he did The Stare.
The Stare was something Inkjet was well antiquated with. It was an attempt at dominating someone, it said ‘Tell me everything I want to know and do what I want, I see into your very soul.’
He wasn’t going to fall for The Stare, and he did The Stare back, his golden eyes digging into those of the stallion as they were locked into a contest of will. The security guard’s job was to scare away the troublemakers, his job was to write a news report, and this meant the stallion was in his way.
The security pony raised an eyebrow and doubled down on his Stare. The outside world faded away, and it was just the two of them, attempting to dominate one another via their connection.
Sweat formed on Inkjet’s brow, his legs begin to wobble, but after a moment the stallion dropped the accusing look and nodded.
“Alright, you can go through.”
With that, the grand ironwork gate slowly opened, producing a soft squeaking noise as unoiled parts rubbed against one another. The driveway up to the mansion was covered in gravel, surrounded on both sides by the most pristine green grass that he had ever seen in his life.
The mansion itself was immense, a shrine to immense wealth, a hundred pristine windows staring out onto the lawn, white stone and a slate roof.
It was unlike anything that Inkjet had ever seen before, and he begin to make is way to the front door as quickly as he could move. The gravel crunched softly under his hooves and the comforting weight of his backpack weighed upon him.
The front door was oak with brass door handles. He wasn’t sure what he was meant to do, but after a moment he loudly beat his hoof against the door in an attempt to make himself sound more confident then he felt.
A few moments later, a small unicorn in a bellboy uniform opened the door. “You must be Inkjet. The Lady Of The Manor is waiting for you in the aviary. If you’d please follow me.”
He didn’t say a word, following after the bellboy and letting the awe of being in such a place wash over him. Plush red carpet covered and fine wooden panelling covered everywhere where it was even remotely appropriate, with white marble staircases.
The bellboy led him to the back garden, which was even bigger then the one in the front, and contained a huge metal cage filled with exotic plants and the sound of even more exotic birds.
The bellboy opened the cage up, and he stepped quickly inside, following after them with a feeling that he really shouldn’t be here. This area of land likely cost more then he could hope to make in his entire life.
And sat at an ironwork table in a clearing carved into the middle of the aviary was Scarlet Whip herself.
“Miss Whip, Inkjet the Reporter is here to see you.”
The zebra was exactly as she appeared in the book, an eyepatch encrusted with plastic gemstones covering her left eye, which had a huge row of three scars running from behind it. Her body was muscled, clad in a tight fitting red dress, and from her mouth hung a pipe that smelled strongly of herbs.
She was sat down in an ironwork chair, staring wistfully off into the distance.
“Alright, thank you Doormen.”
Inkjet didn’t know what to do, but he made his way over to the table, “I’ll… Ah, just set up my recording equipment and then I’ll be ready to start the interview.”
With that, he dug about in his bag, placing down a tape recorder upon the table along with a notepad. Setting down his bag, he gripped his camera and attempted to steady his breath.
“Do you mind if I get a photo of you? I need it for the paper?”
“What if I say no?”
“What?”
“What if I say no, to you taking a photo of me?” The zebra mare asked, exhaling a plume of smoke from her mouth as she tapped the pipe against the table.
Inkjet stared at the striped zebra female, her one brown eye peering out at him inquisitively.
“Well, I.. Ah, guess I won’t take the photo then?”
“You just said you needed it for the paper though. If you need it, you should take it. Don’t sit around waiting for things you need.”
He was stunned for a moment. She had landed a critical hit upon his resolve, but it only stopped him for a moment, before he shook his head and raised the camera.
A large plume of smoke rolled forth from her mouth as he took the photo, the mare giving a knowing chuckle as the photo slowly whirred from out of the inner workings of the machine. It was blank, the colour having not yet settled in, but he knew it had been ruined.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I ruin it? Why don’t you try again?”
Inkjet raised the camera, taking a second photo. This wasn’t good. She was taking charge of the interview.
He put the second photo away to develop, then looked out across the mare. He needed to get control of this situation. It was time to break out his most powerful weapon.
He started the tape recorder, then broke into The Stare, stating his first question in a calm voice.
“So why did you chose to let me interview you when you’ve denied so many others before?”
She stared back, her single brown eye burrowing into him like it was nothing, shattering his resolve.
“I felt that you were bold. Most ponies know they could never get an interview with me, because I don’t like the larger papers and they would have portrayed me as some strange curiosity, a thing rather then a zebra. You tell smaller stories about ponies and their lives, and I can respect that.”
Getting into a domination competition with this dominatrix was a bad idea. She had him right where she wanted him, and this interview was going to be done on her terms.
“Now, I am a busy mare. I have given you some of my time. So,” She paused, punctuating her sentence by stuffing more dried herbs into her pipe, “You have three more questions, and after each one, I get to ask you a question. Those are my terms, or you can get out of my home.”
He had failed.
“Yes, those terms sound fair… So, Zebra domination and the striping craze that you started, how do you feel about it, and do you have any regrets, considering it has secured you such vast wealth.”
She pressed the pipe into her mouth and sucked in a deep plume of smoke.
“Well, I think that the zebra craze was always going to make it big. This aviary is proof enough of that, people like exotic and alien things they don’t understand well, it gets them curious, and the idea of giving up control and not having to worry any more?” The plume of smoke finally escaped.
She had spoken the whole sentence without so much as a breath. Inkjet was amazed, but considering her line of work, being tough and holding her breath was part and parcel.
“I think it’s always appealed to ponies, at least a little… Now, the second part could be considering a question, but I’ll do this one for free. I do have regrets. I feel that young ponies getting stripes tattooed onto their body is not right, and the craze has done harm to zebra and pony culture as a whole.”
The mare took another inhale of smoke, tapping her hoof against the small table as she thought.
“Zebra domination is a fantasy. It’s bedroom play. Racial domination, whipping, CBT, whatever you’re into is fine behind closed doors with a consenting partner.” A plume of smoke came from her nose, “But ponies and zebras are taking it outside of the bedroom, seeing zebras as nothing but cocks or sex objects, and the same for ponies, they’re sexualizing zebras in day to day life, and that isn’t good.”
Inkjet desperately scribbled down notes, but the zebra leaned back in her chair.
“Now my question. Would you enjoy being dominated by me? Or do you bat for the other team?”
Inkjet didn’t speak for a moment, “Ah, you’re an incredibly pretty mare, but that would be unprofessional, and… Well, I don’t really bat for either team.”
“I see, because I did some research into you, and discovered that you mostly did lifestyle and stories on ponies. I figured you asked because you were curious about me as a pony, rather then a pornstar.”
He nodded, “So, I know you don’t like to discuss how you got the eye injury. But I did learn you’re a refugee from yo-”
“Next question.”
He scratched a line into his notebook.
“How do you feel about the fact you started with nothing, and now are one of the richest ponies in all of Equestria? And what do you plan to do with the rest of your vast wealth now?”
She scoffed, “People who say you can earn millions with hard work and setting your mind to it are idiots. It’s all luck. I got lucky, and I am thankful for that. I think I’m going to use my vast wealth to help the community out now, as cliché as that sounds.”
She looked towards him, “What about you? If you make vast amounts of wealth, what would you do with it?”
Inkjet chuckled at the question. “I never planned to make vast amounts of wealth, if I did, I’d likely just give it away. I’m a reporter. I got into this to report on things, and that’s all I really do it for. Most other reporters are all about breaking the big stories to get fame, but I like telling the smaller tales myself.”
She nodded wistfully at this, shuffling slightly in her chair as she puffed on the pipe several times, before emptying the ash into an ashtray designed to look like a fish.
His final question. He had to make it a big one.
“So, do you ever plan to settle down and find yourself a husband.., Or wife, now that you’re rich, or are you more committed to the solo life?”
She shrugged, “Honestly, I can’t respond to that. Luck got me this far, and we will see what happens in the future. But, I don’t really see myself settling down when I can have almost any stallion or mare I fancy.”
Inkjet scribbled down his final notes, finishing it with a flourish and a final full stop.
“Now, for my final question, what inspired you to try and interview me? I’m genuinely curious.”
He shrugged softly, “I could give some really long winded explanation about showing the world the real you, but honestly I was really impressed by your whip skills. I am not a fan of porn, but the trick with a cigarette always impressed me.”
She laughed softly, moving to put the pipe in his mouth.
“Put this in your mouth and I can show you.”
She reached under her dress and produced the whip from which she had got her porn name. It was bright red and made out of either leather or rubber.
He put the pipe into his mouth, tasting her cherry lip gloss and the remains of the burnt up herbs.
“Now hold very still.” She said, unrolling the whip.
He felt like he was going to piss himself, starting to sweat fearfully as she raised the whip.
Inkjet tried to not show how scared he was, before a loud crack sounded through the air, the pipe being knocked from his mouth in an instant as the air shifted through him. He had barely even seen the whip move, and with a soft squeak he fell backwards from out of his chair.
The mare laughed at his response, staring down at him like an angel upon high. “I’ve still got it. I’m glad I didn’t scar that pretty face of yours. Anyway, I hope you got what you needed, but I have a porn shoot in a few hours. If you ask in a few weeks I might have a second slot for an interview, just for you.”
This was by far the strangest interview he had ever done, and learning more about this mare sounded fantastic.
He couldn’t wait to type this up.
