Selective Service, Volume II

Huff…Huff…Huff

Save for the sound of Torque’s panting breaths and soft, contented moans beside him, the room was still and silent. The gentle breeze from the overhead fan washed over his sweat-streaked form, helping to calm his racing heart and cool him off both physically and mentally. As the ecstasy of his climax gradually subsided, replaced by a euphoric afterglow, he shifted when something warm and delectably soft snuggled up against him.

“Mmmmm ~” a lilting voice purred, “was it as good for you as it was for me?”

“Yeah…” he murmured, giving a small nod.

Looking down his glistening body and to his left, his eyes settled on his voluptuous guest. Employing Měilì, or Měi as she preferred to be called, was both a blessing and a curse. On one hoof, he’d been able to make his deepest, darkest fantasies a reality - on the other, he’d been calling upon her and her services with increasing frequency. Absentmindedly extending a foreleg, he drew his hoof over her cheek.

She smiled up at him and revealed her fangs, wholly unbothered by the seed leaking from her battered marehood. “You don’t mind if I relax like this ~ do you?”

“No, it’s fine,” he sighed.

As far as he was concerned, with her job done, having earned his essence and his bits, she was free to do as she pleased - still, he glanced over to his nightstand and the picture resting upon it. He knew it was wrong to hire a whore who could seamlessly disguise herself as his sister, Vise Grip, but it was too late for him to stop. He’d tasted the forbidden fruit, succumbing to his depraved machinations, and the mere thought of going another round with his sibling sent blood flowing to his semi-rigid stallionhood.

Turning her head, Měi followed his gaze to the photo. “Still hurts ~ huh?”

“Hurts?” he repeated, perplexed by her question.

“Your ex,” she clarified, nodding at the bedside picture.

He went to reply but quickly pursed his lips. For as accommodating and pleasant as she was, she still didn’t know whom she’d been transforming herself into. Her assumption was that Vise was an old lover, possibly even an estranged spouse, and he’d yet to set the record straight on that account. As he warred with the notion of telling her the truth, grappling with the fact that a hero such as himself shouldn’t lie to anypony, she rolled onto her back and ignited her horn.

Levitating her pipe and small stash-box over to herself, she peeked up at him. “May I?”

Again he nodded, too caught up with his inner turmoil to care if she helped herself to a smoke. Watching her pack the bowl and lit it with her magic, he bit back a grimace. She was pleasant to be around, always knew what to say, and was absolutely phenomenal in bed - then again, those were all traits any good mare of the night would have. He, much like any number of stallions before him, was nothing but a job to her - he felt certain of it.

Having taken a draw of her pipe, she reclined and exhaled a thick plume of sweet-smelling smoke. “She really must have done a number on you. For what it’s worth, I’m sure you’re better off without her…”

“I…” he only barely stopped himself, mere moments from correcting her on her egregiously incorrect assumption. “It’s complicated…”

“Want to talk about it?” she softly pressed, looking to him as she drew a forehoof over his chest.

While it would have been easy to maintain the lie, to let her think that Vise was a former paramour, keeping up the act would wear away at him. He was supposed to be a paragon of virtue, somepony that everypony could look up to and draw inspiration from, yet here he was being deceitful to a prostitute he’d just plowed. Looking away from her, unable to meet her gaze, he took a long, metered breath and steeled himself.

“You’re good at keeping secrets ~ right?” he whispered.

“But of course,” she cooed. “As I’ve mentioned before, what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom - besides, I can guarantee you that anything you want to get off your chest isn’t as bad as you think.”

“I…I don’t know about that,” he noted with a mirthless chuckle.

A pink haze filled the air as she puffed on her pipe. “Try me. In my line of work, I’ve heard -”

“She’s my sister,” he quietly blurted. “The mare in the picture, the one you’ve been turning into, she’s my sister…”

“Aaaaaaaaah -” she breathed, “so it’s forbidden love that I sensed.”

His blood which had run hot not minutes prior turned to ice in his veins. She may not have realized he was Hope Hurricane, defender of justice, but the information he’d just revealed could be extraordinarily damning all the same. Should word get out about his proclivities, his friends would look upon him with disgust, he could lose his business, and almost assuredly excommunicate him. Instantly regretting his decision to ease the burden of his guilt, he started when she patted his shoulder.

“For what it’s worth, you’re far from the only customer I’ve had who has a special interest in family,” she coolly remarked.

Looking over and into her mauve eyes, he piqued a brow. “R…really?”

“Fathers lusting after daughters, sons yearning for the sensual embrace of their mothers, cousins wishing to share an intimate moment, and the taboo romance between siblings are far more common than you’d think,” she giggled.

“I…huh…” he grunted, taken aback by her admission and casual nonchalance. “I had no idea…”

Craning her neck, she pecked his jaw. “As you shouldn’t have. Some secrets are best left hidden, though I do appreciate your honesty on the matter.”

He stared down at her and blinked, unsure of what to say. Was it really that easy? Were there really that many ponies out there that lived out their scandalous dreams with escorts? Did she truly not care that she’d unwittingly allowed him to do something so sinful? Dozens of questions traipsed through his mind, though one stood out from amongst the rest.

“Does that bother you?” he candidly asked. “If y…you don’t mind me asking?”

“Sweetie, for as long as I’ve been doing this, you’d have to try to bother me,” she mused, shooting him a wink. “Do you mean me selling my body or…?”

“That,” he nearly spat, unwilling to say the actual word.

Turning away from him, she slipped her legs off the mattress and got to her hooves. “You have to understand that there are fundamental differences between changelings and ponies. Though you come from what you refer to as nuclear families, we do not. Since only Queens are fertile, barring the use of certain spellcraft or alchemy, it’s not uncommon for drones to, shall we say, experiment with one another on an all too regular basis.”

“So you…” he trailed off, sensing blood rush to his face.

“In my youth, yes,” she answered, “though there’s no need for that nowadays - not when there are handsome, virile studs like you seeking my company.”

He remained where he lay, observing her and looking for any signs of deceit. Over his life, he’d dealt with all sorts of questionable creatures, from simple con artists to those who’d say just about anything to keep themselves out of jail, but she was different. Her tranquil demeanor, grace, and the confidence with which she carried herself were blades that could be used for good or ill, and he was genuinely uncertain of what sort of changeling she really was.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” he stated, drawing her eye while she stowed her stash box in her purse. “Is there a reason you - how do I put this…”

“A reason I chose my profession?” she calmly asserted.

Shaking his head, he wriggled over and got off the bed. “Not that - well, that too. I was wondering about why you’re not more colorful.”

She studied him for a moment and drew from her pipe before answering. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged and turned his eyes to the floor. “Just curious. Not to be rude, but there are a lot of ponies that think unreformed changelings are a threat.”

Only lifting his head after she gave no reply, he shied back when he lifted his gaze. Her body was tensed, her jaw set, and the usual smile on her muzzle was replaced by the trace of a frown. She may have been comfortable talking about things that would ordinarily put most ponies off, but he’d clearly touched a nerve. Stepping closer and forcing a smile, he offered her a forehoof.

“I really, really didn’t mean anything by that,” he muttered. “It’s just that there aren’t that many of you around - plus I’ve never really had the chance to ask.”

As she glanced from his forehoof to his face, her expression softened. “How about this ~ I’ll answer your question if you answer one of mine.”

“I - uh - sure, I guess I can live with that,” he sheepishly responded, pulling his leg back to awkwardly rub his collar. “Shoot.”

“Pray tell, what is it about your sister that has you so enamored?” she hummed, her lips twisting into an impish smirk.

He knew for a fact why he felt the way he did about Vise. For starters, his sister was beautiful, being conventionally attractive while also having a pair of tits that could and often would turn heads when they weren’t bound - secondly and just as prudently, her happy-go-lucky energy was infectious and rarely failed to lift his spirits. She was, in his opinion, as close to a perfect mare as possible, though there’d been a defining moment in their youth that sowed the seed of his carnal interest in her.

Slowly drifting over to him, practically weaving through the air, Měi breathed hotly on his ear. “Did she seduce you…?”

“No!” he croaked, leaping away. “Sweet Celestia - no. It w…wasn’t anything like that!”

“Let me guess ~ you two played doctor when you were little?” she tittered.

Her guess, while incorrect, sparked his imagination. He had thought about trying to play doctor with Vise, though he’d never been brave enough to suggest it when they’d been living together. Seeing the amorous drone pursuing him, drawing closer with every hoofstep she took, he held up his wings in surrender.

“It wasn’t like I’d planned on becoming attracted to her,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his snout. “Listen, if you want to hear this, you have to swear you’ll never breathe a word of it to anypony ~ got it?”

Seating herself on the floor, she solemnly held a forehoof to her chest. “I swear on my hive and all my kin, you have my word that I’ll never speak of it to anypony.”

“Good,” he huffed, easing himself down while attempting to summon his courage. “This is going to sound really stupid, but this is what happened…”

And so it was with a shame-filled, heavy heart that he regaled her with the tale. Many years ago, back when he and Vise had been foals, they shared a room and a bed. For most of his childhood, he never gave a thought to sleeping beside his sister - unfortunately for him, as they grew older, things eventually took a turn. Their bond was always unshakable, forged through a lifetime of supporting one another, yet their developing bodies and the hormones that began raging through his system proved a disastrous mix.

It was an unseasonably cold autumn night when it happened. There was a chill in the house, the furnace had yet to be lit, and both he and Vise cuddled with one another to stave off the cold. The heat of her body against him, her plush behind nestled against his groin, and her back pressed to his chest had triggered something - a part of him that until that moment hadn’t awakened.

He thought he was just uncomfortable at first, unable to find just the perfect spot to fall asleep in, but that hadn’t explained why a certain part of him was anything but tired. Feeling his stallionhood slip from its sheath and gradually harden, he trembled when Vise rolled her hips and sandwiched his length between her pillowy buns. Her scent filled his sinuses, the heat of her body against him was like a soothing balm, and her hushed breaths a symphony to his ears, causing him to act on instinct.

An inadvertent thrust had been his undoing, sending a wave of pleasure through him as his shaft glided through the cleft of her ass. He knew what sex was, having learned about it in school, but his impulses refused to yield his better judgment. Draping his head over her shoulder, he held her close, closed his eyes, and surrendered himself to his primitive urges.

It wasn’t until he was beset by ecstasy, biting his lip and shaking like a leaf, that the reality of the situation fell upon him. Throwing back the cover, he stared aghast at the thick, cooling spunk painting Vise’s back, tush, and his chest. He’d never been one to panic, even as a colt, but be darned if seeing what he’d done didn’t terrify him.

Though he did the best he could to cover his tracks, going so far as to fetch and spill a glass of juice on the bed, the shame of what he’d done wasn’t so easily dealt with. It wasn’t long after that that Vise was given her own room, taking one which had been their father’s office across the hall from him, yet some part of him continued to pine for her - sure, they still went to school together, played together, and enjoyed their time together, but it wasn’t the same after that. In an all but literal way, ever since the incident, his view of her became tainted with disgraceful desire.

So far as he could tell, his sister never did learn what he’d done with her - to her that evening. He knew how lucky he was that she believed him about the accident, buying his lie hook, line, and sinker, but the weight of what he’d done had remained with him through adulthood and to the present day. While he’d had every intention of taking that secret with him to the grave, suppressing it even from himself, Vise’s kidnapping and his fears for her well-being had opened old wounds and led him to where he was at that very moment.

“So - um - yeah…” he concluded, feeling more vulnerable than he ever had.

Měi steadily stood, closed her eyes, and gave a deep bow. “Thank you. I can’t pretend to understand how hard that must have been to share, but you have my deepest sympathies and respect for your honesty.”

He wasn’t sure how she’d react, terrified that she’d be revolted by his confession, in spite of her claiming she’d heard similar things in the past, yet her humility rocked him to his core. “You’re…you’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Why would I not be?” she countered, smoothly rising to her full height. “You revealed a part of yourself that few, if any, had ever seen - for that, I am in your debt.”

Completely dumbfounded, he numbly observed her lazily wheel around and trot to the bathroom. Her ample hips swayed with every step she took, her weighty bosoms gently swung from her abdomen, and her elegant movements were enough to catch any remotely straight stallion’s eye, yet it was her behavior that resonated with him. Though he was a fool for thinking it, understanding that her conduct could very likely be an act, he found himself, however briefly, charmed with her in the purest sense of the word.

Lingering just inside the restroom, she peeked back at him. “If you give me a moment, I’ll be happy to ask that question of yours.”

“I…s…sure,” he sputtered, having completely forgotten what he’d asked her to start with.

“Just let me freshen up, hun,” she added, closing the door behind herself.

Left to his thoughts, he shudderingly exhaled and closed his eyes. In a peculiar sense, it was cathartic to open up about how he really felt about Vise. Bottling up his feelings, especially after he’d begun employing Měi, had taken a toll on him. It was hard to concentrate at work, his anger at Blister clouded his judgment, and he felt increasingly awkward around his sister. If confiding in a hooker was a therapeutic way for him to make his life easier and ease his mind, it would be a small price to pay.

As he absentmindedly listened to movement within the bathroom, his mind wandered to Měi. Prostitution wasn’t illegal, nor was there anything illicit about changelings who chose not to partake in reformation, though interacting with his increasingly frequent guest was strange - not bad or wrong, but merely something he never thought he’d do. Regardless of whether they were in the throes of passion or not, there was something oddly comforting about her presence - so much so that he’d considered bedding her in her natural state.

Hearing the door creak open, he expectantly peered over and smiled. “What was I…”

“You ready for bed, big bro?” she asked, scampering out and snaring him in a hug.

Conflicting information accosted him, sending mixed signals and making his thoughts go haywire. Gone was the voluptuous, fanged, purple-eyed drone who’d gone to freshen up - instead, his sister had suddenly joined him. It was like a magic trick, the sort of thing you’d see at a show, and it left him frozen in place.

Releasing him and backing away, she smirked and tapped his nose with a wingtip. “Listen, I’d like to stay up too, but we’re gonna get in trouble if we don’t get to sleep - besides, we’ve got school in the morning!”

“School…” he repeated, reliving memories of many, many nights in his family home.

Idly turning as she leaped into the air and flung herself on the bed, he sat mute. Her tone was almost perfect, just the slightest bit nasally, and her coat, hide, eyes, and cutie mark were spot on, but those weren’t what he fixated on. Vise as she was today was tall, a bit chubby, and with a massive pair of breasts - this Vise, the one who was waving for him to join her, was younger, shorter, and slightly less developed.

He’d thought his depravity had reached bedrock, going as low as it could possibly get, but he’d been wrong - so very, very wrong. The sight of his sister as a teenager, questionably legal and innocent as she could be, breathed new life into the smoldering flames of his lust. Staring at her backside and catching glimpses of her plump marehood while she flicked her tail from side to side, he swallowed hard.

She cocked her head as she eased herself down and onto her side. “If you don’t hurry up, I’m gonna steal all the blankets!”

Reflexively shifting and taking a step, he involuntarily moved to the foot of the bed. He should have been furious, incensed that she’d use such a personal, private, and until a few minutes prior unspoken secret on him, though he couldn’t be angry. Like donning a careworn and cherished garment, he unwittingly slipped into his past and the moment that had tormented him for years.

“You think I can be the big spoon tonight?” she chirped, beaming up at him.

Shaking his head, he snickered and trotted up beside her. “Like we wouldn’t wake up with me holding you anyways.”

“Hey, that’s not my fault,” she pouted, scrunching her snout and batting his chest with a wing. “One day, when I’m bigger and stronger than you, I’ll be the one cuddling you.”

“Uh-huh,” he hummed.

She peeked over her shoulder at him as she folded her wings, turned onto her side, and faced away from him. Going to lower himself down to the mattress, he paused. Some vestige of his common sense told him this was a ruse, that he wasn’t looking at his sibling, but his subconscious, fueled by the happy, carefree times of his youth, overpowered his rationality. Easing himself down and slipped a foreleg around her side, smiling all the while, he hugged her from behind.

“You’re gonna have a lucky marefriend someday,” she whispered, wiggling her tush.

“Not if I make you my marefriend,” he replied, draping his muzzle over her shoulder.

His claim was wholly spontaneous and driven by his id, but it was something he’d dreamed of saying for ages. He loved Vise with all his heart, and he’d gone to great lengths to keep her nearby since they’d been foals. She was one of the reasons he’d opened his shop, he’d pulled a few strings to get her an apartment close to his, and he did his best to help her out with anything and everything that may stress her - nevertheless, his true desires were unattainable.

While it may have been acceptable for changelings to get frisky with their kin, that would never work with him and his sister. He’d always understood that a day would come when he’d lose her, when she’d find her special somepony to start a family with, and he’d dreaded that juncture with every fiber of his being. She contentedly sighed and made herself comfortable, sundering his melancholy in the blink of an eye.

“Wouldn’t that be weird though?” she snickered, rubbing her rump against his groin.

Running his forehoof down to her waist, he kissed her neck. “Maybe a little…”

“Well we could…” she fell silent, twisting and peering down at her flank.

Sensing himself getting hard, he went still. “Well we could…?”

With a mischievous grin splitting her muzzle, she carefully extended a wing down her body, grabbed her tush, and delicately prized her buns apart. “Even if I’m not your marefriend, we could have fun…”

Her scent being slightly off and her playfully lewd actions ran counter to what had actually happened so many years ago, but feeling the balmy heat of her loins and being given the opportunity spurred him onward. At the time, back when he’d ended up cumming on Vise, he hadn’t gone all the way, too scared to fully act on his urges - now things were different. Repositioning himself, he slid down the bed and dragged the tip of his shaft down the cleft of her ass.

The heat of her marehood was sweltering, making his pulse quicken and cock twitch with anticipation. She pushed back against him, mutely urging him to continue, while a battle raged in his mind. What he was doing was wrong, but it felt so right. Stricken with indecision, he flinched when she giggled lightly.

“Do it,” she breathed.

Every creature had a breaking point, a limit for what they could endure - for Torque, having the chance to alter the course of history, if only in a self-serving, hedonistic way, having his sister ask for him to rut her was the final nail in his coffin. Securing his grip on her, he bucked his hips and sank his stallionhood into her silken, welcoming depths.

“Y…you’re so big,” she whimpered as she trembled.

“Sssssssh,” he affectionately hissed. “Just a little more…”

Continuing to gradually plunge into her, he only stopped when the tip of his length bumped against her womb. Her snug confines quivered around him, seemingly trying to draw him deeper, while he fought to restrain himself. He wanted - no, needed her to relax, if they were both going to enjoy this.

He waited a few moments for her to adjust, listening intently for her breathing to slow, until he leaned in and pecked her cheek. “Ready?”

“Y…yeah,” she stammered.

Rocking his hips back, he freed a portion of his length then plunged into her. She softly mewled, titillating him with the sound of her angelic voice, and spurred him to withdraw and give her a second thrust. Her beautiful body and face, the softness of her fur, her warmth, the way she gripped his stallionhood - every part of her was amazing and more than enough to inspire him onward.

He fell into a slow steady rhythm, plowing her from behind while embracing her. Situated as he was, he couldn’t see much other than the side of her face and her foreleg, but that was hardly an issue. Gliding his forehoof around and off her waist, he gently groped her bosoms.

“Aaaahn,” she cried. “B…but they’re sensitive!”

He could only imagine how sensitive they were, given how fast they’d grown. Her breasts had gone from little mosquito bites to a pair of soft, wobbly melons seemingly overnight, stocking him as much as her! Blindly running his frog over the soft mound of flesh, he smirked when he felt the turgid bud of her nipple.

Tenderly pulling on her teat, he was rewarded by a throaty, blissful moan. He would have said he’d like a better view of her, but there was no need. Without being able to see her face, he could tell her eyelids were fluttering and that she was more than likely biting her lip in an attempt to stifle herself. If their parents found out what they were doing, they’d both be toast.

“H…harder,” she rasped, bucking back against him.

Two things kept him from giving her what she wanted: their positioning and that she’d taken a more active role. Having her ask him to plow her was incredible, but feeling her desperation as she milked his shaft was an entirely different level of bliss. Keeping their movements synchronized, he thrust into her with increasing force.

Their pace steadily hastened, a hushed Plap Plap Plap of their colliding bodies filled the air, and their passion soared. He’d craved this for as long as he could remember, to have taken the path he hadn’t as a colt, and to finally attain it drove him wild. His self-restraint buckled, beaten into submission by his maddening desires.

“On your belly,” he quietly but firmly demanded.

She’d said and done things she hadn’t before, yet the divergence didn’t stay his hoof - it anything, it compelled him. Clumsily unsheathing herself from him, she rolled onto her stomach and lifted her hips. He pushed himself up in pursuit, straddling her thighs and guiding his cock-head to her winking, drooling entrance.

As soon as he was in position, he started fucking her. Her wings fidgeted listlessly against his chest, she arched her back, and she groaned with every plunge of his stallionhood. She wanted this as much as he had, yet neither of them had acted on their feelings for one another - he was certain of it. Burying his nose in her mane, he set his jaw and lost himself to his rapture.

Like a taste of Tartarus and Heaven itself, she was everything he could have wished for in a mate. As he pounded her from above, relishing the sensation of her feebly trying to keep up with him, his stamina slowly faded. There was only so much pleasure a stallion could withstand, and his threshold was quickly approaching.

His zeal overtook hers in no more than a hoofful of seconds, although those seconds lasted for what felt like a small eternity. He was bigger than her, stronger than her, and older than her, so it came as no surprise that he could best her in a match of sexual might - even so, the fact that she continued giving him her all was electrifying. Hearing her pitch raise slightly, he pulled back and shifted his focus to her face.

“B…big bro,” she gasped, shaking like a leaf, “I…I’m g…gonna…”

Changing the angle of his thrusts, he ground his medial ring against her g-spot and cast her over the edge. Her wail of ecstasy and the deluge of nectar from her spasming depths was rewarding to a fault, gratifying him in a way that shouldn’t have been possible, but it came with a price. Having held himself back, if for no other reason than to deliver her to the gates of nirvana, he was undone when she came.

He shot forward and locked lips with her, clumsily kissing her as his climax struck. His seed mingled with her essence, a testament to their love for one another, while he filled her. The release was, in a word, perfect and it connected him to her on a level that transcended the physical - regrettably, it was a portent of cataclysm.

As his raw, bestial pleasure faded, his higher functions returned with a vengeance. All his doubts and apprehensions, the things that had prevented him from crossing the line with her, came surging back with a vengeance. He threw himself back, hauling his slickened endowment from her and painting her rear with the final shots of his load, and went wide-eyed.

Peeking back at him, she chuckled and invitingly wiggled her tush. “Looks like you made a mess, big bro…”

Try as he might, he couldn’t find his voice. A hellish combination of disgust and loathing welled up with, looming like a storm on the horizon, and it was all he could do not to look away from her. She rose and languidly wheeled around to face him, keeping her eyes on his drooping, cum-slathered length.

“Here,” she began, inching over to him, “let me clean you up, big b-”

“No,” he cut her off. “No. I…I think that’s enough for now…”

Her eyes shot to his face as she came to a halt. “Is…is everything ok?”

“I…yeah,” he lied through his teeth. “I’m fine. How about you go get cleaned up.”

She hesitated, staring up at him for several long, tense seconds before she stood and stepped off the bed. Following her with his eyes, struggling to control his breathing, he waited until she’d disappeared into the bathroom before sinking to his haunches and punching the mattress. He was no better than a junkie, letting his compulsions dictate his actions, although it hadn’t fully sunk in until now.

Doing anything even remotely raunchy with Vise, the real Vise, would ruin his relationship with her, yet he kept calling on Měi to sate his contemptible perversions. As he glared at the bathroom door, imagining the changeling washing his jizz off herself, his lip curled in revulsion. He wasn’t angry at her, she was just doing her job, he was angry and sickened by himself.

Given perilously little time to collect and recenter himself,

It wasn’t long before Měi reappeared, slowly trotting out in her natural, unaltered form. “Would you like me to leave?”

“Yes,” he replied without thinking. He only understood what he’d said after he’d said it, throwing out and waving a forehoof at her. “No. No, you don’t have to go.”

Crossing to him, she reached over and rested a forehoof on his shoulder. “Forgive me for asking again, but are you alright?”

He nodded, even though he wasn’t. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”

Holding his gaze as he looked up at her, she withdrew her hoof. “If you insist,” she sighed, sitting down opposite of him. “As for your question from earlier, I do what I do for a number of reasons. The money is good, I get to meet all kinds of different creatures, and I never have to worry about going hungry.”

Surprised by how candid she was, he quirked a brow at her. “Isn’t it hard though? Seeing different creatures from day to day, not knowing when you’ll be called on, having to deal with all sorts of different - uh - requests - it can’t be that easy…”

“It’s not that dissimilar to most jobs,” she sighed, sitting down opposite of him. “There are good days and bad days, some customers are more difficult than others, and there are certain risks involved with my line of work. It takes a special type of creature to become a callmare, and there are a good number who only do it temporarily, but I’ve been told I have a gift for it.”

“Have you ever thought about quitting?” he inquired.

“I won’t be able to do this forever, so there will come a time when I eventually give it up,” she faintly answered, peering at the curtained window at the side of the room.

He opened his mouth, instantly closed it, then shook his head and lifted a hoof. “Sorry for being a chatterbox, but I do have one more question. If there was one thing that could make you consider changing careers, what would it be?”

“Ah ah,” she tutted, calling upon her magic to levitate her pipe over to herself. “You first. Tell me, what is it you want most in life?”

Thrown off by the profound question, he rubbed his chin and stared up at the ceiling. “This may sound vague, but I just want to be happy - you know, have a stable life, a special somepony to come home to, and as few things stressing me out as possible.”

Lighting and taking a draw from her pipe, having packed the bowl with the exotic weed, she held the smoke in her muzzle for a few moments then exhaled through her nose. “Frankly, if I was going to quit, it would be if I found somepony who cares for me - genuinely cares for me. A great many Johns talk a good game, wooing some of us mares over with honeyed words and gifts, but they just want us for our bodies. Some mares, particularly the younger, more naive ones in my profession are unable to see through deceit, which is one of the reasons why I chose to stay the way I am.”

“Oh?” he quipped.

“Intent, be it good, ill, or otherwise, has a flavor that’s easier to detect without having reformed,” she explained. “We are deceivers, we spent our lives feeding and misleading creatures of every sort before the old Queens were toppled, so we can sense subterfuge much more easily than most.”

Her assertion, while fascinating, left him with a chill. If she was as good at detecting falseness as she claimed, he’d have to be careful around her - very careful around her. Getting to his hooves as glanced over at his clock and stood, he trotted over to his dresser and the coin purse resting atop it. Chatting with her, while pleasant, wasn’t going to compensate her for her services.

“Darn it,” he cursed. “You couldn’t break a twenty-bit piece, could you?”

“No, but I wouldn’t be overly concerned if you’re a little short,” she chuckled, trotting up and pressing her body to his side. Levitating a small stack of coins from his forehoof, she guided her payment to and into her bag. “I’m only going to ask this one more time before I leave ~ are you certain you’re alright?”

“I…no. No I’m not,” he reluctantly admitted, “but I will be. Thank you for asking.”

She gave a faint smile and bowed before turning to the door. “And thank you for finally being forthright. If it’s all the same to you, I’ll see myself out.”

“Alright,” he murmured, willing himself to smile.

Wandering out of his room and into the hallway just outside, she paused and peeked back at him. “Torque.”

“Y…yeah?” he shot back.

“You may have left something out in your bathroom - something you shouldn’t have,” she purred, disappearing.

Holding his breath and listening to her retreating hooffalls, he waited until hearing her leave his apartment before charging into his bathroom. He was unsure of what she was referring to, yet his intuition told him it couldn’t be good. Frantically scanning the small chamber, he scoured the tub, shower, toilet, and sink, until his eyes settled on something that made a pit form in his stomach. Resting over the lip of his laundry hamper was the pliable, turquoise material of Hope Hurricane’s suit - his suit…