All the World's a Stage

by Drop_It_Like_Its_Clop

Rating: mature
Tags: Human, Fetish, Vice-Principal Luna, Equestria Girls, Porn, Sex, Profanity, Twilight Sparkle (EqG)
Length: 9400

Twilight runs into the last person she would've expected to see on a one-girl night out.

Twilight Sparkle; egghead, brainbox, nerd, bookworm, dweeb, geek, four-eyes. High-achieving student of Canterlot High, former target of relentless bullying and social ostricisation at Crystal Prep Academy. One-time harbinger of an apocalypse, present bearer of some strange magic leaking from an alternate dimension, would-be heroine. Not quite squeaky clean, but given some of Canterlot's repetoire of characters, she's certainly not bad, and she's at least trying to do the right thing.

What would she be doing in a mythical strip club in the off-centre part of Canterlot? Well, basically, it's all Rainbow Dash's fault.

A commission for Brony-wan-kenobi and a spiritual successor to Speaking the Right Language, which is not required reading to understand this story. Both stories are standalone one-shots.

Contains lesbianism, voyeurism, exhibitionism, age gap, D/S, public sex, and some maybe bad life choices that you should definitely leave to fiction. Cover art is by thebrokencog on Derpibooru.

Edit: Featured on 15/08/2023, to my great pleasure and surprise. Thank you all.

Published 2023-08-14 22:50:00 UTC
Last updated 2023-08-14 22:50:00 UTC

Monday Funday

This is all Rainbow's fault.

The petulant, sulking thought repeated in Twilight's head throughout the day, even as she acknowledged to herself that she had made every choice that led her here. She didn't have to agree to the bet, and her friends had told her repeatedly that she didn't have to go through with the consequential dare for having lost. Fluttershy, Rarity, and Sunset offered their sympathy and explained to her that her comfort and boundaries came first, but she shrugged them off, assuring them both that she was okay. Pinkie told her that fun was only fun if it was actually fun, and that if Twilight wasn't having fun, she shouldn't do it or feel pressured to have fun. That was a bit of a headscratcher to understand, but Twilight assured her that she was, in fact, okay with the 'fun' Rainbow had prepared for her. Applejack, the woman who'd never back down from a dare or a bet, particularly if Rainbow had proposed it, told her that friendship came before any dare, and that everyone would understand if she didn't want to go through with it, Rainbow included.

At that point, she could have thrown in the towel, but she didn't. She smiled and waved away their concerns, and said that it was no big deal. Of course, Rainbow wouldn't have picked the dare if it hadn't been a big deal to Twilight, and that was part of the problem. Twilight wasn't oblivious to her own social shortcomings, including her awkwardness around topics other people discussed casually, and the fact that Rainbow pinpointed something so accurate of her reservations meant that everyone else knew, too; the only difference was Rainbow had no qualms teasing her about it. It wasn't about winning or losing a bet, or proving to Rainbow that she wasn't a coward, or that she could go through with a dare, it was about proving to herself that she wasn't a prisoner to her own eccentricities.

That was why, later that night, with a farewell to her family and a cover story about visiting one of her friends, she left her house and walked the short distance to the bus stop, glancing around in case someone she knew somehow deduced what she was really doing. It felt like she was stood there for several long, painful minutes, despite her watch telling her she had only been there for forty-three seconds before the bus pulled around the corner and coming to a stop in front of her with a hiss that sounded far too much like a sigh of disappointment for her liking. She steeled herself and stepped aboard swiftly once the doors opened, flashing her bus pass at the machine and striding over to a seat the second it beeped in confirmation, without looking at the driver. The bus was empty, but she still faced towards the window, keeping her hood pulled up and resting her forehead against the vibrating glass. Even with no-one around, she felt as if the entire city's eyes were on her.

The bus trundled through the city, carrying her away from the simple familiar comfort of her neighbourhood and towards the commercial centre, which she had only attended with friends in the warm light of day. The latest she had been out in this part of the city was in the late evening, when the sun was setting and she'd come back from a day out with the girls. Now, with the streets illuminated by neon signs, bright flashing advertisments, and the comparatively dim glimmer of streetlights, the entire place felt both more alive and more deserted. The usual places she liked to go with her friends were shut, the respectble shuffle of daytime buyers running errands or students milling around looking for post-class entertainment, and the nighttime entertainment was welcoming in guests and urging others to come over from the competing establishments. There weren't many drunks on the street, other than those thrown from bars or stumbling into new ones, but the atmosphere was entirely different to what she was used to.

With a shudder and a tremble, the bus came to a halt, the doors clanking and whacking as they flung themselves open. This was her stop, the one she'd told the bus to stop at, but Twilight still felt the oddity of her departure, as if she truly didn't belong here. There was no one else on board - at least, she hadn't paid attention, and she refused to look back to check - and yet a hundred invisible eyes burned into her back as she stood up and made her way to the front to disembark, silently observing her long after she'd exited the bus and walked away. Without a word being spoken, or even a person to speak them, it was as if she knew she didn't belong in this part of the city. Then again, that was part of the point; a dark night was a good time for stargazing, not for wandering around a city centre, at least as far as she was concerned. That was exactly why Rainbow had chosen this dare for her, and exactly why she had to overcome the stupid limitation she had set for herself.

She distracted herself from the discomfort of the noise of screeching, booming club music and obnoxious partygoers by following the directions on her phone, trusting the address Rainbow had given her to work when fed into an app. It was a very welcome comfort, leading her on a journey where all she had to do was follow instructions. She had always been good at that, listening and following the clear-cut rules of what to do and producing a particular outcome. Science never failed her, methods and procedures never failed her, and since she'd optimised her phone to give even more accurate and precise location readings, her mapfinding app had never failed her. As long as she followed it, she wasn't lost in a strange environment - she knew where she was going, even if that did lead her past several bars and a nightclub playing something that could generously be called music with so much bass and at such a volume it rattled the windows of the buildings either side of it.

Her destination was down a side street, taking her away from the boisterous energy of the high street and past a chainlink fence leading into a square space that might have been a parking lot, had there been any cars there. She checked her phone again, making sure she hadn't turned off too soon or too late, but it pointed her directly to the side of the L-shaped building. There weren't any lights or signs advertising its purpose, and if it weren't for the bouncer standing impassively at the door and a red rope strung between stanchions off to the side, Twilight would've second-guessed herself. Her heart beat against her ribcage as she approached, growing louder with every step she took towards the lone figure outside.

"H-Hi," she spoke, having to look up to address the bouncer. He peered down at her from behind his sunglasses, expressionless. "I'm looking for a c-certain venue. Is this...?" She gestured to the building behind him as she trailed off.

"What venue are you looking for?" he asked, his voice gruff and low.

"Um...th-the...the...P-Purple K-Kiss." She swallowed, and smiled sheepishly. He looked her up and down - at least, that looked like what he was doing, as much as she could determine without seeing his eyes - and took a slow breath. She saw how his chest expanded from that simple motion, and gulped.

"Look, kid," he said at last. "You clearly ain't the type to come here, so I'm guessin' one of your friends told you where to find us and dared you to do it. Am I in the ballpark?" He didn't wait for her answer, and as she stammered he continued, "My job is to stop there from bein' any trouble, and as long as you don't cause trouble, I don't much care what you do. All I need to know is this; are you from Crystal Prep?"

"What?" Twilight asked, balking at the question. "Crystal Prep Academy? The school? N-no, I'm not. I'm from-"

"Do you know what this place is?"

"I-I've been told that it's-"

"No camera, phone, voice recorder, or anythin' else like that once you step inside." Turning to the door, he pulled it open for her and stepped aside. "Cash only."

When she glanced inside, and then back to him, he gestured for her to hurry up and step in. Taking a deep breath, she shuffled her feet forward, one at a time, and stepped over the threshold into the building, the door creaking as it was closed, and slamming shut behind her with an almighty crash. Twilight jumped, her body tensing at the brutish sound, and she took several deep breaths to calm herself. The entrance was well-lit, and just to the side a few feet along was a small window to a cramped room, with a bored-looking man scrolling through his phone. He glanced up as Twilight approached, and tapped at the sign taped to the glass - $5 entry - No phones allowed inside premises - All electronic items to be given to reception upon payment of entry fee and recovered when leaving - Any customer found breaching this policy will be removed from the premises, given a lifetime ban, and subjected to criminal prosecution

Twilight reached into her jacket pocket, fumbling around for the notes she had bundled up in an elastic band, and peeled one from the pack, which she passed over. Reluctantly, she slid her phone under the window too, watching as it was picked up and placed into an open tray, which was slid shut. He didn't say anything further to her, other than waving her on. A little perturbed, she glanced around, spotting some stairs which led downward. She took a few steps towards them, then looked over at the cashier questioningly, but he didn't raise his head from his phone. A brief visual search turned up no alternatives, and so holding onto that determination to prove herself to herself, she ignored the rising uncertainty as best as she could and descended into the club proper.

Given the brusqueness and stoicism of the staff so far, as well as the general minimalism of the building, she'd expected the main room to be cramped and dingy, perhaps with a single flickering overhead lamp to illuminate a lackluster and probably very creepy basement transformed into a function room. Instead, she passed through a curtain at the bottom of the stairs and was met with a sensory feast of a room that was so far removed from the building she'd entered that, for a moment, she wondered if she'd entered a portal to another world.

Dusky purple lighting - true to the club's namesake - cast the room in a sensual shadow and expanded the room's dimensions beyond its actual size, keeping it bright enough to see by, but dark enough to maintain a comfortable and intriguing sense of grandeur and mystery. Comfortable black leather chairs were situated around small round wooden tables dotted around the room, leaving enough space to create a suitably-sized path for patrons and staff to wander freely about. The floor was hardwood, which looked remarkably clean in spite of the drinks that were being carried to and from the bar which took up the wall on the left, and the music which played over the speakers was kept moderate, bearable in the small space and enhancing the ambience, rather than overwhelming it. The establishment was full of other customers, almost all of the seats occupied by groups chatting among one another or leaning against a wall, but they weren't crammed together on a dancefloor as in other nightclubs. Admittedly, Twilight hadn't been to many nightclubs, but she'd been made aware of what they were like through her friends, and this was markedly better.

That might have had something to do with the fact that it wasn't strictly speaking a nightclub. Rather than a dance floor, the far wall housed a semicircle stage which reached towards the audience, and in the centre stood a firm metal pole which extended up to the ceiling above. Powerful stage lights of various reds - rose, raspberry, candy apple, burgandy - shone down on performers who took to the raised platform, highlighting them against the otherwise ubiquitous purple of the room. The contrast of the dull with the vivacious was magnetising, and every eye in the room was drawn to the stage where the colours overlapped and shone most brightly. Even those in conversations had their head turned partway to the stage, unwilling to miss anything occurring on it.

The biggest difference between this club and a standard nightclub, though, was of course the nudity.

Twilight had walked in on the tail-end of a performance, absorbing the unexpected environment while the dancer turned and spun on stage, braless and shamelessly exposed. With a final flourish, the dancer turned and strutted to the exit, receiving a moderate applause from the crowd, while some unseen announcer informed the room that they'd been watching Destiny. Tepidly, Twilight shuffled through the room, looking for an empty seat. Predictably, all of the men - and the audience consisted almost entirely of men - had chosen seats closest to the stage, wanting an eyeful of the performers as they strode out and presented themselves to a sea of leers. In all honesty, it wasn't nearly as bad as Twilight had believed it might be - she'd been expecting depravity, debauched actions and perverts whistling and acting completely inappropriately towards women, but this was restrained and mild, all things considered. Sure, she'd seen some exposed breasts, but that wasn't the worst thing in the world, right? Breasts were perfectly natural, and no woman should ever feel ashamed for showing them.

There was a single seat a modest distance from the stage, far enough away that she didn't have to push past the men in the audience or sit next to strangers, but close enough that she could comfortably see the stage and the next performer who stepped onto it. This really wasn't that bad, she decided, relaxing into the chair. It was clean, comfortable enough, there wasn't the bustle or crowding or overwhelming blare of music of questionable quality, the floor wasn't sticky from spilled drinks, and the men hadn't been lecherous towards her or anyone else, as far as she'd seen. From what she expected, and even what she'd heard about nightclubs, this was actually pretty good. She wouldn't say fun necessarily, but it was easily bearable. She could sit here for an hour or so, go back to Rainbow, and proudly say she'd completed the dare, no trouble.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the unseen announcer declared once again. "Now taking to the stage is the act you've come here to see." The energy of the room changed at that announcement, everyone sitting up a little straighter, the murmuring becoming more pleased and anticipatory. "You've been waiting all night, probably all week, to see her in the flesh, and now that wait is over. Please show your appreciation for the mistress of the night, the princess of the moon, the spectacular, breathtaking, one and only...Nightmare Moon!"

Smoke billowed onto the stage from concealed ejectors, darkening into a purple-blue hue under the lighting and obscuring the majority of the performance space. It spread swiftly, laying in slowly drifting clouds over its designated area, providing a swirling mystique to what was otherwise a flat, simple, and unremarkable area. Even before the hiss of jets had faded away, the room had erupted into cheers and applause, signalling something spectacular. Twilight had no idea if this was normal or even high-quality, but the rest of the audience were invigorated, and that caught her interest. Peering into the smoke - or more apparently, a mist - she tried to focus on what was there. She could swear something was moving, a figure that wasn't quite solid enough for her to be sure of her own observation. Was she just seeing things?

She hadn't realised that a song had started, not at first; it began as a low hum that quickly rose in volume, and it was only when the lyrics started, and the instruments became identifiable, that she realised that the noise was in fact the musical accompaniment for the highly-anticipated and well-received performer.

Better back down, get on your knees,
Stealing your heart, she'll make you plead,
Giving you something to believe

There was no uncertainty now; there was a figure in the fog, someone moving in time to the music. It was a shadow, a silhouette against the rolling smoke, but it was undeniably a person, if only by outline. Whoever it was walked with an exaggerated swing to her hips, her prominence swaying like a pendulum from side to side as she strutted forward. Even as the figure reached the pole and took hold of it, stepping with purpose in a deliberate circle, the smoke shrouded her from view.

She's got them villain vibes,
Villain vibes,
Got them killing vibes,
Killing vibes,
Watch her taking lives,
Taking lives

As the introduction burst into the chorus, the figure launched herself around the pole, swinging with one hand holding firmly and another outstretched as if raking her fingers through the mist, leaving a disrupted trail in her wake. Her leg moved in a way Twilight barely made sense of, winding around the pole and letting her lean back without interrupting her motion, rotating seemingly without any input. Her hair flowed behind her, upsetting the mist as she flicked it up and down, leaving it swirling as she brought herself up into a curl, hugging he body close and accelerating her spin. Both hands gripped the metal, her legs extending in dexterous kicks and extensions as she twirled and moved fluidly and effortlessly.

She'd rather be the hunter than the prey,
Rather be a killer than a saint,
Either way she's still gon' make you pray.

The dismount from the pole was so smooth it took Twilight a second to register it had happened; as the chorus came to a close and the next verse started, midway through a spin, the performer lowered her legs and simply exited into a walk towards the edge of the stage without breaking rhythm or direction. Masked by the mist around her, she dropped to her knees, sliding her hands down her sides from ribcage to hips and down along her thighs, before leaning back to lay flat. With her legs still tucked under her, she arched her back, raising her midriff up and stroking her hands back up her legs to her belly.

Maybe long ago was heaven made,
But she slipped and fell along the way,
Now she's got another role to play.

She slipped her feet out from under her, bringing her legs together and raising them up high, bent at the waist at a ninety degree angle. Slowly, she spread her legs into a split, teasing a tantalising view of her nethers - if only the smoke wasn't blocking the view - and closed them again over the course of several seconds. Customers at the front had started flicking dollars onto the stage, making monetary offerings as if to a shrine, praying that the sensual drought would break and they would receive the promised, desired plenty.

So don't go playing with, playing with fire.
Don't go, playing with, playing with fire.
Don't go, playing with, playing with fire.
Don't go. Don't go.

Rotating her hips, the dancer rolled over onto her front in a fluid twist, pushing herself backward onto her knees and presenting her shapely rear to the crowd. Leaning backwards and forwards a few times to emphasise her bodacious assets, she wiggled herself in a glacial roll of her hips, making a figure-of-eight for the adoring, worshiping masses. The mist was beginning to clear, providing the first glimpse of dark panties stretched over white flesh, though in the club's lighting and the wisps of clearing smoke, her skin had a blue tinge that seemed to make her otherworldly. A few customers stuffed wads of dollar bills into the straps of her panties, to which she didn't react, almost as if it were insignifcant in her line of work. She stood up slowly, raising her rear first and following with her torso, giving the audience one last look at her bent over before she sashayed back to the pole, lazily gripping it with a hand and twirling effortlessly around it.

The instruments and vocals cut out for a moment, and the lighting ceased abruptly. For that half-second, time stretched to improbable proportions, deliberately prolonging the performance with which everyone had been so enthused. Twilight blinked, glancing around awkwardly, wondering if there was a technical fault.

The lights flared on in sync with the return of the music, bright white and focused on that singular spot that everyone had come to see. The smoke had dissipated, and what little was left was reduced to insignificance in the face of the beams presenting the jewel of the club. Fully visible to everyone at last, Nightmare Moon was a beauty to behold; tall and lithe, with a full hourglass figure and a trim belly, her wide hips running down to long, slender legs. Sapphire hair cascaded down her back, long and loose. Her skin was smooth, and with so much of it on display, it was a perfect sample size to suggest that she, too, was perfect. The only coverings she bore was the ebony-black lingerie girding her breasts and her crotch, foregoing subtlety for brazenness, and if the crowd were anything to go by, she'd calculated well.

She's got them villain vibes,
Villain vibes,
Got them killing vibes,
Killing vibes.

Nightmare Moon twirled around the pole and descended again, rising up with a roll of her hips and a flick of her hair, sending a sapphire curve through the air. Pressing her chest to the pole, she extended her tongue and ran it up the metal, keeping her lidded eyes on the audience as she did so, gyrating against the beam with exaggerated undulations. Everyone was fixated on the sight, the money flowing freely from hands to the stage, mouths splitting in grins or expanding in awe. Twilight's jaw dropped at the depraved display she was witnessing, but it would've been merely embarrassing had it been a stranger doing all of these deeds. Instead, Twilight was paralysed, because that performer, that dancer grinding against the mast, was no stranger. She knew Nightmare Moon, personally.

Vice Principal Luna was the star performer of a strip club.

Reaching back for a scant second, the woman turned and rested her back against the pole, reaching to her shoulders and casting her bra from her body. Holding one arm over her bust, she reached the other up and gripped the beam above her, dropping her hips into a slow squat and standing up again, never letting her arm lose its placement. The flow of money increased, casting a layer of green on the black of the stage, and once some satisfactory amount had been met that was known only to the dancer, Nightmare Moon let the arm slip from her chest and join her other above her. The room lit up in a cheer that momentarily swamped the music, the stripper dropping her body with more enthusiasm, letting the men ogle her exposed breasts.

There was no reason to observe her face, with the far more exciting and temptuous parts of the undressing dancer on display, but Twilight couldn't help it; there was something magnetic about the expression on the vice-principal's face, the way she seemed to shine from within. Luna didn't look at anyone else as she performed, not really. Sure, she looked in the direction of the crowd, and there was no doubt that she saw and acknowledged them, but she didn't really react to them in the way she ought to. It was almost as if they were insignificant, as if they didn't matter, as if the audience themselves were a mere backdrop. She didn't look at the money, either. She just looked content, living in the moment, enjoying the dance and the way the music flowed through her.

She's got them villain vibes, villain vibes,
Every time I see 'em,
I-I-I'm crazy,
I know, I know she's crazy

Twilight was in the front row, and she didn't know why. She didn't recall standing up from her seat, walking closer, or slipping past the men leaning forward. She'd been watching Nightmare Moon flick her hair, twirl around the pole, drift her palms down her body, and smile all the while. That smile wasn't the typical, happy smile, it was something more, a deep satisfaction, a fulfillment, a gratification that would've been smug, if its owner particularly cared about what others thought. It wasn't arrogance - Twilight knew what egotism looked like, and the woman's visage not only didn't look egotistical, it didn't feel it, either. There was no scorn, no sense of self-importance, no sense of elevation from being better than anyone else; it was something internal that shone outward, a lustful, hearty joy which warmed her, and in turn warmed the loins of the people watching.

Nightmare Moon turned her head as she held herself aloft with one hand, legs crossed as she ground her crotch against the beam, and locked eyes with Twilight. The humping didn't stop, the song-driven motions didn't cease, but in that shared gaze, Twilight found herself looking not at Nightmare Moon, but at Vice-Principal Luna, who stared back. There was no doubt they recognised one another - Twilight couldn't hide who she was, nor could she hide the fact she knew who Luna was. All she could do - for reasons she didn't understand - was raise a trembling hand, inching and edging it forward, until it was fully outstretched and presenting its offer; a single dollar bill. She stayed still, frozen in confusion and concern, for what felt like minutes, all while the second highest authority in Canterlot High continued to rub herself sensually against a metal pole. Twilight's heart thumped, pounding harder and harder against her ribcage, sweat beading on her forehead, until Luna at long last made her move.

In a stunning display of acrobatics, Nightmare Moon curled around the pole into and leaned backwards, placing her hands down on the stage and letting her momentum carry her into a handstand, which she maintained briefly before falling gracefully and flawlessly onto her feet. Before standing up, she hooked her fingers under the waistband of her panties, and eased them down, the fabric caught between her buttocks and thighs springing down as she pulled. A single hand passed under her, sliding between her legs and blocking the view of her nethers to the enthralled audience. Stepping from her panties, she spun around again, eyes fixated on Twilight once more, and this time the gaze that met the younger woman was undoutedly, irrefutably, Nightmare Moon's.

Strike that match and make it blow up,
Hit that gas, it's half of the fun,
Don't show this to just anyone,
But, but can't stop what you've begun.

Twilight fully expected Nightmare Moon to pluck the dollar bill from her when the latter reached down with an outstretched hand, but the fingers continued past and closed around the former's wrist, and pulled. Even if she had the physical strength, Twilight couldn't muster the will to stop the physical summoning into that raised, illuminated space. Several members of the audience hooted and jeered, but the dancer paid them no attention, focused entirely on the teenager. Twilight's legs trembled, her face ablaze, and in that state of fright and confusion, a pair of hands pressed down on her shoulders, easing her into a sitting position, and then onto her back. Then Nightmare Moon plucked the dollar bill from her hand, and laid it like a muzzle across Twilight's lips.

Wild and vicious, hungry,
Smiled 'til the mischief felt boring,
She ain't the hero,
Just the villain of somebody else's story.

The vibration of the bass reverberated through her body from the stage as she lay on her back, competing with her heart for the strongest beat. The blinding lights above were interrupted as Nightmare Moon stepped in the way, blocking them with her body, and a foot passed in front of her face and came to rest the other side of her head, leaving Twilight staring up at the bare crotch of a veritable stripper, an erotic dancer, her vice-principal. Her eyes widened in shock, but she had no time to do anything else as that view came closer, Nightmare Moon kneeling down and bringing her uncovered nethers down until a metre became centimetres, and then milimetres, and then nothing, save for the fabric of the bill separating one set of lips from another.

Skin. Belly and groin and the rounded underboob of her vice-principal. The bill only covered her mouth, and so the raunchy jeers and the sight of waxed pelvis and an unfamiliar sour smell reached Twilight's brain, her mind processing the situation piece by piece, struggling to properly formulate a sense of what was happening beyond the sensory input. She continued to struggle as the stripper stood, bringing the bill with her, forming a green loincloth that fortuitously censored the dancer's most pressing privacy, at least until she'd straightened to her full height and peeled the money from her mound. Nightmare Moon turned, stepping over Twilight and keeping her legs pressed together as she extended her tongue and dragged it slowly up the note, right over the spot where her privates had been in contact with it.

The audience sounded more like sports fans by now, hurling money onto the stage with a ferocity that was more reminiscent of aggression than praise and admiration. Twilight passively noticed the notes starting to lay atop her own feet and legs, her brain too frazzled to do more than feel the sensation of touch, and as she lay there, the music and the dance continued, the star of the show presenting herself and her perversions for the animals who had seemed comparatively tame when the student had first walked in.

But fear the reaper like never before,
Once you hear it, falling deeper 'til she severs your core,
Somehow begging for more,
Bring them to life just to kill them again,
Swing 'til the end with the scythe,
Trust it's a thrill you'll never comprehend.

So don't go,
Playing with, playing with fire...

Twilight kept her head down and her gaze averted, grasping the glass of water in fidgeting hands. The dressing rooms were rather spacious and clean, a revelation sapped of its surprise given the trend the rest of the club had set, with mirrors of all sizes and sorts adorning the walls, giving coverage of every angle. For the teenager, at least, it somehow inspired claustrophobia and agrophobia simultaneously, and she kept her eyes cast downward as much as she could.

"How did you enjoy the show?" Luna asked, sipping on her own glass of water. Following the end of the performance, Nightmare Moon had helped Twilight to her feet, directed her off the stage, and brought her to the dressing rooms, leaving her there for a short while. When the stripper returned, she was carrying two glasses, and had donned her black panties, though her bra was absent. The woman who entered the room was, once again, Luna, and not that elastic magician who'd cast spells on the audience with twirls and waves of her own body.

"I-It was...educational," Twilight responded, sipping her water instinctively.

"I imagine it was," Luna agreed. "Attending a club such as this for the first time always tends to be a learning experience for people, and I haven't seen you here before. I presume you are allowed to be here? You're a senior, correct?"

"Y-Yes," Twilight assured her. "I turned 18 last-"

"It is a simple yes or no question," Luna interrupted. "You don't need to trip over yourself trying to answer more than was asked of you. Relax. You aren't in trouble. I am merely surprised to see you. You never struck me as the sort of person to want to attend an establishment such as this." A silence passed between them. "Did you hear a rumour about the performers here, or was there a dare to attend a strip club, and you simply stumbled upon me?"

"The latter," Twilight mumbled, her face burning hot enough she was sure she could boil the water in her glass should she press it to her cheeks. "I lost a bet, and I was dared to come here."

"A mixture, then," Luna surmised, sighing. "There are some unsubstantiated rumours that certain staff members of Canterlot High work at this establishment, which have persisted for some time now. The door staff naturally turn away any students from Crystal Prep Academy or from Canterlot High, thanks to the list of attending students provided by both schools to protect their combined reputations. It appears that you were never added to that list, given the lack of belief you would attend any strip club at all."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Please sit up, and don't slouch," Luna interjected. "And speak up, Twilight. We both know you are a capable interlocutor."

The student did exactly as was asked of her, her compulsion to follow instructions outweighing her discomfort of looking at the woman across from her. How could Luna talk so naturally in her near-nude state? There was no discomfort, no awkwardness, just that approachable yet authoritative figure she'd come across countless time in the halls and events at the school; aside from the location and state of dress, it was almost as if she were truly sitting in the vice-principal's office, asking a question about the curriculum. Twilight couldn't summon the same placidity, not when a woman for whom she had enormous professional respect was baring her perky breasts, enviable C-cups to Twilight's own B-cups, with upturned nipples capping a delightfully dark areola that seemed purposefully designed to be perfectly proportionate.

"I'm sorry for turning up here," Twilight tried again, swallowing heavily. "I shouldn't have come. I didn't mean to learn your secret, and I promise I'm not going to tell anyone."

"I know," the vice-principal stated, smiling softly. "You aren't the type to betray a person's trust, and we have ways of making sure my moonlighting is kept safe. Are you sweating? Please, take off your hoodie."

"I-I'm okay."

"For your health," Luna pushed. "It can get very warm down here, and I don't want you suffering." The schoolgirl ran out of excuses almost immediately, and with an awkard wiggle, pulled her hoodie up and over her body, leaving her hair ruffled as she folded it and placed it over the back of her chair. Luna watched on, waiting until the meek girl had finished before continuing. "What do you think of this club? Would you come again?"

Twilight blinked, her mouth forming shapes without producing sound, before she managed to answer, "Am I meant to say 'no'?"

"You're not 'meant' to say anything in particular," the other woman replied. "I asked you a question, and you are meant to answer it as you would answer any other question. Be honest."

"...no."

"That was a very long pause."

"It just seems like this is a test, to see if I've learned my lesson. I promise I'm not going to snoop any more. I won't come here ever again, and-"

"No, no," Luna jumped in. "You're misunderstanding me. I promise, you are not in trouble. I believe you when you say you are never going to tell another living soul about my little hobby. I am asking out of a genuine curiosity, and you don't seem to be being entirely honest with me, or perhaps yourself. Knowing that no matter what you answer, you won't get into trouble, would you consider coming here again?"

It should have been simple. She should have been able to say 'no', to explain that she didn't really see the appeal of scanitily-clad women performing erotic dances for lustful men, and that she didn't want to spend money on it. She'd only come here as a dare, after all. Still, there was something stopping her from answering emphatically, as if it wouldn't be the truth. She could say 'no', without issue, but it felt false, as if she were half-hearting a response. What was it?

"I...I don't know," she said at last. "I don't know why I don't know, but...I really don't know. I don't really see the appeal of...um...pole dancing establishments." Across from her, the vice-principal nodded slowly.

"Without attempting to pry, have you had an opportunity to explore who you are attracted to?" At Twilight's blush, the other woman smiled. "You have no need to be ashamed. It is a perfectly natural part of life, and I am not a person who will make a young woman such as yourself ashamed of something as natural as her own sexuality."

"I-I'm attracted to boys," Twilight stated, preceding her information with a heavy swig of water. "And I think I like girls, too. But I don't need to come here to enjoy women, or 'explore'. I've got some very supportive friends, so I'm comfortable with who I am. It's not as if I need to come here. I just...I just don't feel like there's a good reason to stay away, even if I don't feel a reason to come here again. It's just sort of...sitting there in my mind now. Discovered knowledge I can't put away." She fiddled with a button on her polo shirt, popping it open and feeling a little less constricted. Luna appeared to be processing what had been said, pursing her lips in thought.

"Do you have any questions for me?" the vice-principal asked suddenly. "I've been interrogating you all this time, and you must have a thousand questions running through your head right now. Ask away, and don't be shy. After all you have seen, I don't believe there are any boundaries that you can cross."

"Why do you do this?" Twilight asked, almost immediately. It had been on her mind since she'd learned who Nightmare Moon was, and it had been rattling around inside her skull like an angry goldish determined to escape. At the earliest opportunity, the question slipped from her lips, without much input on her part.

"I fear that answer may dissatisfy you," Luna responded. From her nonchalant visage, it appeared as if she had been expecting that question. "It is far too simple to satiate the shock you have undoutedly encountered by learning that I do what I do. I could lie, tell you that I suffer from financial difficulties, and that this is a way to make ends meet. I do not have financial difficulties, and I live comfortably within my means. It is true, however, that this hobby of mine is quite the money-maker. I am undoutedly the main attraction of this club, the reason it has so much pull. I am worth a considerable amount to the management, which is why I am so assured that my work here remains secret; it is in their interest to do so, and from what I have seen, they take that responsibility far more seriously than any employer I have ever worked for. I make- well, you don't need to know exactly how much I make per night, or per dance, but the generous tips I receive, including your dollar donation, typically net me a thousand dollars per dance.

"I could lie and say I have been blackmailed, but I am indeed here of my own volition, my own free will. Every time I step up onto that stage, I go willingly. There are a myriad of more interesting, if utterly dishonest, answers I could provide; brainwashing, a secret twin sister who so happens to look like the vice-principal of Canterlot High, a body-double who makes money from my likeness. Instead, the answer is simply that I enjoy it. It is thrilling, exhilirating, and I would not give it up for the world. It is my passion, and that is why I do it. While I could explain for hours the depths and width of my love for what I do, my reason for doing it is nothing more complicated that that."

"You don't feel ashamed?" Twilight asked, perplexed. "Nervous, or anxious, or afraid?"

"Why would I?" the other woman retorted. "Where lies the shame? My mind is not in competition with my body, so from where would arise the axiety or fear?

"But what about exploitation? You don't care that men are looking at you like a piece of meat? That you're known for being overly sexual?"

"I would object to that, if I could identify any such exploitation. They are here because I brought them here. I am presenting myself to their watchful eyes. I know they will pay me money, will shower me with praise and adoration and material wealth, because I possess something that they deeply value, moreso than their own wealth. A beggar on the street would not only not receive the cash that is heaped on me, but he would be met with scorn and contempt, and leave the passer-by with a strong desire to keep him away at all costs. I know my worth. I am the one who exploits that, no one else."

The student couldn't posit a response. It seemed wrong, counterintuitive, contrary to everything that made sense, but a woman she held to be far wiser than herself had explained in unambiguous detail a strand of reasoning that had never crossed her mind. Had she really been looking at this wrong the entire time? Someone had to be, and while she wasn't convinced, she wasn't ready to call vice-principal Luna mistaken, or even worse - a liar.

"It is, understandably, difficult to process and comprehend," Luna spoke, breaking the silence. "Words do not do it justice. It would be something you could only truly understand through action and firsthand experience. Would you like to?"

It took Twilight a few seconds to register what had been said, and a few seconds after that to determine if what she'd heard was in fact what Luna was suggesting. Glancing at the older woman, she blinked several times in quick succession, her mouth moving into the beginning of several sentences, before she settled on, "Are you asking...if I want to poledance?"

"Perform," Luna amended.

"I can't do that!" Twilight spluttered. "I'm only 18-"

"Which is the legal age."

"-and I can't even dance-"

"You will be taught."

"-and, and, what if someone sees me?!"

"That would be the desired end-state, yes."

"I can't!"

"You have already said that," the vice-principal pointed out. "And you have yet to give a genuine reason as to why. You are legally capable of doing so, you will be given instruction, and you will be capable if and when you decide to perform for the viewing pleasure of others. Your secret will be kept safe, as has been the case for me up until now. So far, you are in no better state to say you 'cannot' do something than a person who is simply too lazy to try. What you mean to say is you do not want to do so, but we both know that is not true, either."

"Vice-principal, I-I can't-"

"Stop saying you can't," the other woman commanded, sternly. "You are using that as an excuse to avoid facing up to your own doubts. It is so much easier to pretend that something is impossible, decreed by the laws of nature to be beyond your control, than it is to admit that the barrier keeping you from one of two outcomes amounts to your choice, your willpower to see it through." Taking in a breath, she exhaled slowly, looking her student up and down. "I know you can, and I know that because I understand you, Twilight Sparkle."

Twilight's attempt to question the remark was obliterated as the other woman stood up, taking slow, deliberate steps towards her. From the way she walked, the way that gaze pierced her, it was clear that it was no longer Luna talking to her. It was Nightmare Moon who approached, reaching out with a hand and pressing two tender fingertips to Twilight's cheek, drawing them down the teen's jaw and further down to her collarbone, over her shoulder, and brought them around as she circled the seated girl. The fingers glided from the base of Twilight's neck up to her nape, pulling a shiver from her as the stripper circled her like a shark, her fingers following in her wake.

"You have two competiting drives," Nightmare Moon explained, returning to Twilight's field of vision. A finger hooked under the latter's chin, compelling her to look the other in the eye. "You hunger for knowledge, you crave it. You want to know everything there is to know, to bask in the wonder and majesty of life. You wish to bathe in its rich experiences, to fulfill your soul of all its worldly desires. That is what made you come here tonight. That is why you came to see me."

"I-I came b-because I was d-dared to," Twilight objected, her heart racing once again.

"That is why you came to this nightclub," Nightmare Moon agreed. "But once you saw me on stage, you could have left. You could have stayed in the crowd, hidden, and returned home when the performance finished. This conversation never would have happened. You would not be here now. Instead, you presented yourself to me, you gave me your money - and you don't even know why, do you? You followed your instinct, let your gut guide you, and you ended up here, unable to explain what made you do it, or why you want to return. You can't explain why you can't just say 'no' and leave this all behind."

Deft fingers flicked at the remaining two buttons on Twilight's polo, opening the top a little more and enabling those same fingers to brush at her collarbone and the hollow of her neck. "Yet you also fear the unknown. You are most comfortable when you can predict the future, when you can see the path laid out for yourself. When you asked me earlier if I felt nervous or anxious or afraid when I stepped on stage, you were asking because you knew those feelings all too well, didn't you? That was how you felt when you were dared to come here, to sit in and watch what your mind could only assume would be a depraved and shameful display, wasn't it? You feared it would be cold and dark, and uncomfortable. A totally alien experience to your nights out with friends, or stargazing. How right am I, Twilight?"

There was no need for an answer. It was as if the woman was inside her head, pulling the thoughts directly from her subconcious mind. They both knew, on some level, that what was being said couldn't have been conjured up from nowhere. She let out a whimper as Nightmare Moon breathed softly against her ear, the latter's lips pressed close enough to brush against it, so close to being a gentle kiss. Twilight shuffled, though she couldn't say it was from discomfort, and closed her eyes, unable to refrain from sinking into the spell being cast over her. She didn't resist when she felt her polo being shimmied carefully up her body, going so far as to lift her arms and passively allow it to be pulled over her head.

"Those two drives keep you stagnant. You strive to learn, yet you fear the steps necessary for discovery. You yearn for new experiences, yet you fear what may await beyond the leap you must take. You want more, and yet you shy away from it. All this can bring you is endless anxiety and misery. You're here because you want to be here, because you want to experience everything a place like this can offer you, but you're unwilling to make that leap yourself. You seek out all of this knowledge because you need it, don't you? Your fear drives you to understand, so you can push away the shadows at the edge of your mind. If I gave you a map and a path, you would be the happiest girl in the world, but without that map and that path...that doesn't bear thinking about, does it? You trust only what you know because it gives you direction, and with this direction you learn about that which you don't fear too much. That is a truly limited life."

The breath was against her throat now, casting a warmth that spread throughout the teen's body. It did nothing to still her heart, but it wasn't the same as when she'd walked in to this room. Her shoes were untied and removed, and shortly those same fingers came for the button and zipper of her jeans. "What if I told you your desires don't have to be contradictions? That they can serve one another? It's common to fear the unknown, to be wary of that which lays outside of our understanding, and the risk of encountering. That is what you fear, isn't it? You fear lacking that control which keeps the unknown, the unanticipated, the moving components of life that you have no plan to deal with, at bay. It is control you want, comprehension so you can live in the light of the world you choose. The only problem is your aversion to risk, to actually reaching out and dealing with failure, or harm. You can't stomach that. It's why you're so rigid, so terrified of trying something so utterly foreign to you. It's why you think you can't perform. That can be solved, easily. You can have both, and you don't need to give one up to have the other. You don't need to give up your sense of control, not really. All you have to do...is give your control to me."

There was no chance for Twilight to voice her thoughts as Nightmare Moon's lips pressed against her own, silencing her gasp and filling her mouth with an experienced, boisterous tongue. She put up a token resistance, trying to push the other woman's tongue back, but every move was rebutted, rebuffed, ducked under and swirled around. Each glance of tongue, each brush, grind and graze sapped Twilight's willpower and filled her with a sense of want and need. Her gasp of shock transitioned into a moan of delight, a new current buzzing to life inside her. She melted into the oral embrace, her clenching and unclenching toes slowing from their frenzied panic to a slower, controlled pattern. Without warning, the tongue was withdrawn from her mouth and she was thrown backward, a lurch in her stomach as she fell, only to be stopped by the sudden halt of her chair. Nightmare Moon leered down at her, her half-lidded eyes gazing intently at Twilight's own wide orbs.

"If you say no, then none of this happened," Nightmare Moon explained. "You can tell your friends that you came here, you saw some dancers perform, and that you won your bet. You will never mention seeing me here, and I will never mention seeing you here. Next week, when we return to school, we will continue being vice-principal and student, and I will hold no grudge or bear you ill-will. You will continue living your life as I have described." She glanced down, and when Twilight followed the other woman's viewline, she realised that her own panties were hanging from an ankle, and that Nightmare Moon's fingers were inches from her lower lips. How had-?

"Alternatively, you say yes, and I introduce you to a whole new world. I take control, and I forever remove that fear you feel. I will always take care of you, prevent you from being harmed, from falling foul of your inexperience and naivety. I will teach you anything and everything, and I will make sure you have that fulfilling life you always wanted, without any of the fear that always accompanied it like a dark shadow. No more anxiety. No more dread. No more scrabbling for control because you're scared of living without it. You will be free to pursue everything you wished, and I will be free to teach you everything you could never fathom before, and that you would always have been too scared to reach for. Make no mistake; there will be control of your life, but it will be in my hands, and you will be better for it. So, Twilight Sparkle, it is now, or never; do you submit to me, wholly, fully, and utterly?"

Twilight was panting, the exertion of the last few minutes the mental equivilent of having run a marathon. For having all of her questions answered so thoroughly, she was perhaps more confused now than when she'd started. What was being asked of her? To give up her independence? Her thoughts? Her mind, and body? No, that couldn't be right. She just had to think. Or did she? She hadn't really been thinking since she'd got here. She rationalised it, sure, but it hadn't been conscious thought that had made her step up to the stage, or come to the dressing rooms with vice-principal Luna. Nightmare Moon was right; she could have left at any point, and her brain told her that would have been the right thing to do. Still, did she regret it? Could she honestly say she wouldn't come back, or that she wouldn't regret taking up this offer?

It was so hard to think. A fog of excitement and desire swirled around her mind, and her body trembled with pent-up need. She hadn't realised just how aroused she really was, but with another woman's fingers inches from her vulva, the promise of more to come, that powerful, hard kiss, she couldn't deny that her body and instincts were crying out for more. Luna - or was it Nightmare Moon? - had told her that performing was a thrilling experience, that she loved doing it, and right now, Twilight couldn't deny she felt thrilled. The short drop back had been startling, but being caught by Nightmare Moon - or was it Luna? - banished that fear and left a deep, electric rush that lingered, and made her feel more alive than she had for a long time. There wasn't that anxiety she'd entered the club with, nor that dread that everything could go wrong.

So what was holding her back? It wasn't her curiosity, which wanted to see what this promise would entail, nor was it her optimism that an authority figure she respected knew what she was talking about. It wasn't her loins, which burned with lust and need, her hips flexing subtley every few seconds out of an innate desire for what was being offered. It wasn't her instinct, which was urging her to go ahead with it, nor was it her reason or self-preservation. Everything urged her onward, from the potent beat of her heart to her own academic inquisitivness, all except her fear; you might regret it, it could go wrong, what if...? That same fear, that same endless anxiety, that Nightmare Moon and Luna had promised to banish forever. Her answer, for the first time that evening, came easy.

"Yes," Twilight answered, looking up at the other woman. "I submit to you, wholly, fully, and utterly."

Luna smiled, looking down with approval at her charge. "Good girl," she spoke, pushing her fingers into the teen. Twilight cried out as they plunged into her, stroking along her sodden flesh and deeper than anyone had ever touched her before.