It was amazing how everything could fall apart so quickly.

That was the thought ringing in Clover's ears as she stared at her desk, smothered in an ocean of papers. Her eyes peered over the rim of her glasses, flicking from number to number with increasing distress, and it sank in how hopeless her situation was. She continued regardless, chewing on the end of her pen as she scanned the sheets over and over, hoping to Celestia's name she could find even the tiniest loophole.

But, as soon became apparent, there would be no rescue. She had messed up, and badly.

The ordeal started a year ago. She'd just graduated university, and with a shiny new degree and pep in her step she sought to move out and live on her own. She found a job at a café and a nearby apartment that she could, however barely, afford. She should have realized then what might happen, but she was young and and yet to be taught the brutality of impoverished living. In the time between then and now, she'd learned that lesson firsthoof.

Her ultimate mistake was her ambition. She enjoyed working as a barista, and maintained a good relationship with her co-workers, albeit muted thanks to her shyness, but she wanted more from the work. More than being a simple minimum wage employee among millions of others scraping by for a meager living, she wanted to have her own café, wanted to have her own customers, make her own choices, brew her own coffee.

So, after a few months, she took the first actions to make that dream a reality. It went swimmingly for a while, up until she actually had to pull in business. She realized too late why she'd been able to buy the property on the cheap. It looked great on the outset and required little renovation to suit her desires, but she hadn't looked into the past of the business prior. When the first month passed with a total of ten sales, she understood.

Panic set in after that. With rent for the location and her apartment in combination with her bills, she went into debt before the first quarter. She reached out to whomever she could for a boost, but that merely delayed the inevitable. Finally, in a last ditch effort to save her failing business, she turned to the unthinkable.

It wasn't spoken, but everypony knew who ran the city's inner districts, and it wasn't the cops. They'd been bought off, and if any crimes were perpetrated by the syndicate that slid them the bits you might as well pray for the moon to fall out of the sky before hoping you'd see justice. Nopony knew who ran the crime ring except those involved in it, not even the ponies they bribed, but Clover didn't need to know that to get what she needed. It was a simple transaction really. They gave her money, and she would use it to keep the lights on in the ever-waning hopes she'd earn enough to pay them back.

Obviously, that wasn't how it turned out. Last month she conceded defeat and threw in the towel. After she claimed bankruptcy, the calls started. She told them she'd get the cash to them somehow, but she was certain they knew she was lying, and now she was here. She'd be evicted next month, but more pressingly were the dark dealers she'd done coin with. What fate for her they had in mind she hadn't the slightest clue. If she was lucky, it would be quick and they'd throw her somewhere nopony would find her. She didn't want her parents to go through that.

Her stomach rumbled and she sighed, setting down the mangled pen onto her desk. There wasn't much point in continuing to stew on the matter. The papers were gathered up, set aside, and she pushed out to prepare dinner. As she made her way to the kitchen, debating what she'd put together tonight, she heard a knock at the door.

Clover's breath caught in her throat. There could be only one reason for the noise. Delay delay delay was all she'd done for weeks, and finally the time had come she could delay no longer. They were here for her.

"J-just a moment!" she called out, hoping to buy herself crucial time. Her thoughts raced about how she could get out of this, but none showed promise. Attempting to delay things further would either extend her stay on death row, or something worse if they weren't feeling generous. Escape also wasn't an option. They had informants, and they'd find her sooner or later. Dejectedly, she realized she had no choice but to answer. Better to get things over with than let them drag on, she reasoned.

She swallowed, breathed in deeply, and flung the door open. What greeted her was not what she expected. In place of masked stallions dressed in black was another mare with burnt orange fur and blonde mane, and half a head shorter than she was, a cheery smile dimpling her cheeks.

"Good evening, Miss Spice! This is Clover Spice I'm speaking to, correct?" she asked. The stranger continued before Clover could confirm, rattling on with the voice of a chirping bird. "Looks like a lovely place you've got here! Shame that can't be said for the complex as a whole, but that's hardly your fault!"

"I," Clover began, curling a foreleg. The appearance - and demeanor - of this pony was strange, but she reminded herself it would do well to not forget she was here for business.

While Clover still tried to form a coherent response after the barrage of words, she noticed the mare reading over a document folder. Under her breath she could hear her muttering to herself, "Blue eyes, check. Peach orange mane, short bob manecut, check check. Pegasus, peach pink coat, check check checkity check! And a cute flank, too." The mare stopped, looked up, grinned hugely. "Oh! Sorry about that ma'am. I just like to be very thorough." She winked, putting emphasis on the 'very'.

Clover nodded reluctantly, and affirmed that, indeed, she was Clover Spice. Though, she knew, giving her affirmation was but a formality. The other mare was certainly polite, if nothing else. Clover would just need to see if she'd stay that way.

"Wonderful! Would you mind following me, then? We have some things we need to discuss. And Miss? Don't bring your phone. It'll make this much easier for you."

That warning turned Clover's gut. She nodded sheepishly, but before she could ask for any clarification the other mare's back was turned. Quietly, Clover stepped out and shut the door behind her, not bothering to lock it. She was quickly able to catch up with the mare, who flashed her a beaming grin over her shoulder.

"My apologies, by the way! I didn't mean to seem rude by not introducing myself. My name is Solar Spectacle, but you can call me Sola if you'd like. And these two are Obsidian Shine and Duskrider. Don't mind them, they're just here to make sure you don't try to run."

Solar giggled, and from the shadows of a passing alleyway two stallions emerged. Clover's heart rate spiked at the sight of them, both significantly taller and bulkier than she. These were the sort of characters she'd been expecting, dark in every way including coat and mane.

They sidled up alongside her, pinning her between two walls of indomitable muscle. If she had no choice before, she had even less now. Mercifully, the walk wasn't long. Parked on the block's west curb was a sleek black car, windows tinted and with no discernible features.

Clover gulped, asked, "Are you going to kill me?"

Solar laughed at that and shook her head. "Oh, kill you? No no no, our employers aren't that brutish. You'll just be whoring for them, until you make back the debt you owe that is! You should be thankful, they're really quite generous when you think about it."

Clover didn't know what to say to that, so she chose not to say anything. Solar proceeded to inform her that she'd need to be blindfolded and her wings bound. She complied, head swimming, conflicted. On the one hoof, she was glad she was going to live, she knew that much, but it couldn't be said she was enthused at the prospect of being a prostitute for a criminal syndicate. She should have objected, put her hoof down, but that wouldn't get her anywhere, except maybe a ditch - or prison. They did work with the police, after all.

The car pulled away once she was strapped into the back seat. The stallions still flanked her, not uttering a word, ensuring no funny business took place. While she couldn't see, she could feel her apartment getting further and further away as they went, and any promises of a hearty potato stew for dinner and a night spent wrapped up warm and cozy in bed disappeared.

Her chest thundered the whole drive through. She could argue 'til the cows came home that she should calm down now that she knew what to expect, but her body didn't get the notion. When they did finally come to a stop, Clover found herself thankful. It meant she was that much closer to knowing the unknowns. Dusk and Obsidian helped guide her out the car and removed her blindfold, but the binders stayed on her wings.

'You'll need to keep these on,' Solar had told her, "As long as you're outdoors with us, at least until we can trust you."

Evidently, they trusted her enough to tell her their names and fully expose one of their identities, although she wouldn't be able to act on that information in any meaningful way. The monikers were likely pseudonyms anyhow.

Solar waved her goodbye as the stallions urged her into the building's back entrance, wishing her a cheery goodbye and good luck. The iron door shut behind her with a kind of finality, and the sounds of a cool breeze and distant night life gave way to an indoor atmosphere and pounding bassline. The music was audible and she could feel it vibrate the walls, but it wasn't earsplitting. But then, she wasn't in the main room yet. She hoped they wouldn't be throwing her into the deep end too soon.

At the hallway's far end was a staircase leading down to the basement. One stallion - Obsidian she thought, the one with the dark purplish-gray coat - stayed behind, while the other continued to nudge her forwards. This one, Duskrider, unlocked and opened the door for her once they arrived at the stairwell.

"Go in," he said. "The mistresses will be with you shortly."

Clover managed to get out all of the word 'who' before she was alone in the room. Her surroundings here were much the same as in the rest of the building, with dark walls and matte black floors overcast by bright neon lights. The walls of this room were less barren however, various shelves lining one side of the room and a large widescreen TV opposite. She didn't fail to notice most of the shelves' population consisted of various sex toys and porno discs.

In the center was an expensive-looking desk made from polished dark oak, crafted to the shape of a U and much larger than the dinky thing she had back home. On her side of the desk was a black leather couch, and on the other were two spacious chairs with armrests, each covered in hot pink fluff. It certainly seemed like the chairs that would appeal to the taste of brothel-running madames.

There was also a computer monitor in the center, nearly as wide as the TV and with a subtle curve about it. It was thin and sleek, modern-looking to her appraisal. She went to go forward to see if it was powered on, but the door on the back wall opened before she had the chance. Instinctively, she shrank back and plopped her soft flanks into the couch, wrapping her tail and planting her forelimbs in front of her to conceal her delicates. The jiggling the sudden movement brought about to her hidden mounds brought a rosiness to her cheeks.

Two pegasus mares entered the room, svelte but plump in all the places that mattered. Their limbs were elegant, slender like a dancer's, but there was a meatiness to their thighs and hindquarters which belied the dancing of a vastly different sort.

On each of their legs were stockings, black latex that stopped below the shoulders in the case of their fores and in the case of their hind legs below their haunches, putting their wobbling cheeks and rippling cutie marks on full display. Similarly, on their throats were matching pairs of thick, spiked black leather chokers, and their ears were adorned with silver stud piercings. Whether they were going for a goth or punk aesthetic Clover couldn't say, but it did the work of intimidation all the same.

They made no show of attempting to hide their sumptuous figures. Truth being, they actively flaunted it, weaving their way around one another like they were coiled serpents. From their toothy grins and lidded gazes, they had the predatory look of serpents too.

"Gosh, Flitts. Would you look at this cutie?" the first one purred, and ran her silver-pierced tongue across her luscious kissers, painted a shade of hot pink in contrast to her black eyeshadow. Her hide bore the color of lavender but not quite, leaning towards the bluer end of the spectrum over purple. Her mane and tail were messy, like splayed feathers in the same hues as a winter cloud.

The second mare's appearance was strikingly similar to the first, close enough that an idea crossed her mind before she dismissed it. This alleged 'Flitts' had the exact mirror physique to her companion, wings and stature included. The only thing different about her was her hair and coat, more greenish and like a cirrus and off-lilac respectively. With regards to her makeup, she in contrast boasted glossy black lipstick and pink eyeshadow.

"Oh totally, Cici! How hot of a skanky tramp do you think we could turn her into?"

"Mmh," Cici hummed, closing her eyes. A shudder momentarily rocked her body, and when she opened them again she stared Clover down with the hunger of a starving Ursa Minor. "Hot enough I almost came just thinking about it! You know how fucking much I love turning innocent cuties into sluts, sis. Keep teasing me like that and we'll never get this meeting over with."

Clover dearly hoped she'd heard that incorrectly, but she knew she hadn't. She was sure her face was already lit up like a Hearth's Warming tree judging by the heat in her cheeks and she couldn't be blamed for that considering the circumstances, but the notion these two salacious sexpots were sisters was beyond the pale. Prostitution was one thing, but incest another entirely. When she glimpsed them over more intently for a second time under that context, she couldn't deny it. They might even be twins.

Before she could process that revelation, Cici delivered a sharp smack to Flitts' left flank with her tail. Her robust rump was sent into a generous, gelatinous quaking, and drew from the filly a surprised yip to which Cici amusedly tittered. After rubbing her wing in circles around the sore spot, Flitts huffed and turned her attention to Clover.

"You're right though, we should probably get this shit over with first. We'll have time for teasing later."

Cici nodded in agreement and took her seat. "I'm sure Little Miss Spicy over here is having a time of it. Betcha she's never seen a couple slutty sister dykes before."

Flitts snickered alongside and followed her sibling's motions. The two mares sat side by side with their legs spread, forelimbs over the other's shoulder. Resting there, between their juicily thick thighs, were crotchtits that put Clover's own sizeable bust to shame. Hers were nothing to sneeze at being larger than grapefruits, but theirs were more comparable to melons, each capped with suckable nipples bigger than bottlecaps. They showed them off without shame, but Clover kept hers to herself and would keep it that way for as long as she was allowed.

In Cici's case, there was a more unexpected sight between her legs. Pooling on the chair, ovoid and heavy, were two coconut-sized testicles. Nestled between her crotchtits meanwhile was a cock, half turgid and drooped off to one side, slowly drooling. Clover did her best to ignore it, but easier was said than done.

"I-I, I'm right here you know," she said.

Cici leaned back and waved her free hoof dismissively. "Relax babe, we were getting to that."

Flitts took that as her signal and stepped in. "I'm sure Sola filled you in on the broad, heehee, strokes, ya? Celestia's fuckin' tits that bitch is smokin'," she trailed off, whispering something into Cici's ear that made them both chuckle under breath like schoolfillies. In Cici's case, her shaft lurched and throbbed, making the leaking pre-cum droop in the air, hanging in place like a string of slime.

"Um, y-yes, she did," Clover said and swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. "She said I would be a, uh, prostitute until I pay off my debt."

"That's right!" Cici exclaimed, a bit too excitedly. "You're gonna be our bitch for a while."

"Or," Flitts continued, pulling away from her twin to lean forwards. "If you don't want to be our bitch, you can take it up with the cops. I'm sure they can find you a comfy enough cell, huh?"

Clover shook her head insistently. "N-n-no thank you, I-I'll take the job."

"Good girl," they cooed in sync. Their voices dipped an octave or two lower, dripping with raw sexual desire. Clover hated to admit it to herself, let alone anypony else, but these two were turning her on.

"Well then, if we're doing this, you should probably know the names of your mistresses first. I'm Flitter."

"Cloudchaser!"

"But you can call us Flitts and Cici if you really wanna. We like having pet names around here."

Clover nodded after a moment of hesitation. The simple act proved an unheard grant of permission for the twins, as they stood from their cushions and smiled from ear to ear. They crossed directions after passing one another, Cloudchaser swerving right and Flitter left, moving inexorably towards the couch where Clover sat. She squirmed, instinctively, sinking further into the back cushions as they drew nearer.

They circled her like sharks, gazing down upon her as if she were the most delicious fishy snack they'd seen in ages. They kept their tails raised, allowing Clover view of their puffy marepussy and ponuts, the latter damp and drooling feminine juices onto the floor. She struggled to keep her focus on the seat below her, but she could hear the pitter-patter of cunt-honey against the ground and the way their breasts gently plap-a-plapped against their inner hinds. For Cloudchaser, there was an added smacking of her maredick against her belly.

"So," Cloudchaser began, licking her lips yet again. "If we're going to turn you into a proper money-making machine,"

"You won't just need to look it," Flitter said, picking up where Cloudchaser left off. When she came around right beside Clover, she leaned in and whispered to her ear, "You'll need to act like it."

"Which means we need to give you a test drive," finished Cloudchaser, at her opposite ear.

Clover never stood a chance against them. They were too fast, and had all the power here regardless. She got out a yelp and not a syllable more before her cry of protest devolved into a whimper.

Clover was pulled down so her back lie against the couch cushion while Flitter climbed atop and Cloudchaser spread her legs wide. She tried getting a word out, but was stifled when Flitter's hips shifted and lowered onto her face, promptly burying her snout in slick lilac folds. The smell of sweetness and sex was intense, and with her mouth open she tasted the flavor of recent spunk and marecum on her tongue. She wriggled in agitation, but Flitter didn't pay her any mind, admonishing her by rolling her crotch.

"Ooh, Flittsy, look! This one has some real knockers on her."

"Wouldja look at that, she sure does. We've got a special filly on our hooves for sure."

Clover grunted discontentedly, then felt something flat and broad press between her legs. It was thick and fleshy, dragging itself up along the curvature of her teats before reaching her nipples. It flicked at one, then another, then lips sealed around one and suckled greedily. She moaned, and from up above Flitter made a pleased coo, grinding herself down harder.

Worse was the pressure building in Clover's left breast. As Cloudchaser sucked more fervently, nipping and lashing her tongue, the pressure grew. Then finally, as though a mini-orgasm wracked her, a small splash of warm creamy liquid spurt into Cloudchaser's mouth. The mare gave a muffled sound of surprise and pulled back, leaving her face open to being splashed with another dribble.

"Damn, gurl!" Flitter laughed. Wiggling from side to side, her breaths were turning heavy and shallow. Clover didn't need to be an expert sex worker to know she was approaching climax. "You give milk too? I think, ah! Think I gotta good idea in mind for your streetwalker theme!"

Clover couldn't respond, naturally, but she could make Flitter cum quicker. Maybe then, after Cloudchaser, they'd let her go home for the night. Reluctantly she opened her mouth wider and dipped her tongue into the mare's velvety depths, just as Cloudchaser's pressed into her own.

Clover moaned again, and that did the trick for Flitter, who panted throughout the ride and pushed herself down with all the force she could muster on her muzzle. Her squirt splattered over her fur and into her open maw, forceful enough to be compared to a spray.

Flitter came down from her climax, slowly, panting, as her sister began her efforts at violating Clover's flower in earnest. The post-coital dripping mare lifted herself off Clover's face, giving her a few blessed seconds to refill her lungs.

"A-, are you done?" Clover asked. She masked her pleasure the best she could, but her scrunching expression and periodic gasps made the position she was coming from clear.

"Done?" cackled Flitter, then brought her ass back down with a weighty 'pwap!'. "You kidding me? Ci and me ain't done with you for a looooong while."

Author's Note

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