Talons and Lace

One thought occurred to Black Lace as she stepped out of the taxi cab onto the slate grey sidewalk. Manehatten was big. No, scratch that, Manehatten was huge. Totally massive. Enormous, even. All the adjectives the white unicorn knew relating to great size applied to the north eastern city.

The second thought that occurred to her was that, in relation to the towering canyons of steel and glass that surrounded her for mile upon mile in all directions, she was very, very small. Connecting the dots meant the realisation that Manehatten was nothing like Whinnyapolis.

Black Lace suddenly missed her home. As ponies of all tribes, not to mention zebras and griffons, walked past her without sparing her a second look, Black Lace painfully missed her home. Her little town. She noted it wasn’t even unusual that she was wearing a dress. The pedestrians around her were dressed in all manner of clothing.

Granted, not many of them were wearing a black bridle – no bit though - a black high cut dress, the angle sliced to purposefully reveal her cutie mark of two red socks in the shape of a heart, her best pair of red stockings and a breast teddy that nicely amplified what little she had going on down there. Still, she wasn’t spared more than a fleeting glance.

She took a moment to get her bearings, shielding her dark blue eyes from the glare of the morning summer sun with a forehoof. The shear unfamiliarity with her new surroundings gave her pause for thought. Having hailed the cab from outside the hotel she was staying at, requesting of the driver to take her to the best coffee shop in town.

The unicorn supposed that was why she was looking at “Stripe’s Cup of Java”.

“Huh,” she muttered to herself as she approached the shop. “It doesn’t look like anything special.” A glance upwards made her jaw drop. “Surely all that can’t be the coffee shop, can it?” The skyscraper that loomed above her was B – I – G. “No way, right?” determined to find out, she walked in through the doors. Immediately, she was confronted by a wave of mixed scents. Cinnamon, apple, pastry, chocolate and, naturally, coffee, all assailed the unicorn’s nose.

The smells made her stop. Her eyes wide, head on a swivel, she took in the scene. It was like something from a fifties style TV show. The diner was recreated almost perfectly, from the pale blue wooden walls to the black and white chequerboard floor to the bright red booth seats. There were a few patrons further in, and closer to the entrance was a sky blue pegasus mare chatting away animatedly to a chocolate brown earth mare.

What caught her eye after that, was a large, very well built orange zebra stallion who was busy tending the counter. He was huge. Like everything else in this place, apparently. Mentally, she made a reminder to look up more adjectives for ‘big’. She was getting bored of ‘huge’.

“Well, I will have to say that Omega is doing a lot better now a...” the blue pegasus didn’t get to finish what she was saying to her friend at the table. She had just caught sight of the newcomer to the shop, and as her jaw dropped open, her thoughts took a nosedive.

“Now a?” questioned the earth pony, before she looked to where her friend was staring. She got an explanation for the slack jawed attitude. “You titty mare!” she playfully admonished the heavily blushing pegasus for staring at the unicorn’s teddy amplified breasts.

Black Lace always considered herself to be an average sized pony, with her long slender legs, but she still had to look upwards when she approached the counter. “Heya!” her out of town accent drew the gaze of everypony who wasn’t already staring at her outfit. “I'm new in town for a bit, can I get a coffee, and a list of cool Manehatten things to do?”

Caffeinated’s green eyes twinkled with mischief as he watched the mare step up. He did so like new blood. Always the most fun to play with. “Greetings young mare, you travel without care. Coffee and sweets I've got. Be it a little or a lot. That rack near the door will lead you to destinations galore.”

Airmail broke out in a fit of laughter and beside her, Lavender made the best use out of her patented eyeroll #2. “Haaa!” Black Lace threw back her head and laughed out loud. “You guys really do the rhyming stuff! That's so cool.” She shifted a little as she spoke and her high cut dress moved along with her, displaying her cutie mark to the store. “I'm here for the fashion expo next week. For now, can I get a coffee and um...a caramel donut please?”

Caffienated knew he shouldn’t. He knew it was teasing for the sake of it. That didn’t stop him though. “Will that be my coffee black, or would there be something it lack?”

“Fresh blood for his zebra voodoo,” commented Airmail after she had gained control of her giggle-fit.

“Yeah,” agreed Lavender, who hadn’t taken her eyes off of the unicorn, “but it is cute fresh blood.”

“Sorry, just with milk, please. I'm sweet enough, so no sugar,” Black Lace added with a wink, “Sugar.” After she had made the correction to her order, the unicorn looked over to the two mares. They were looking at her. And had amused looks on their faces. Naturally, she was curious. So, she sashayed over with a graceful high step walk to their table. “Heya. Can I join you two?”

“Come on and sit with us, new girl,” Lavender was the first to make the offer, “Stripes will deliver.”

That caused Airmail to whisper, rather noisily, “What are you doing?”

In reply, Lavender whispered back, “Want to see how she eats that donut?” the way her winged friend blushed told the earth pony all she needed to hear.

“They are mares most sublime,” added Caffienated, who was thoroughly loving his little fun and games. “I'll have this to you in little time.”

“Awesome, thanks dude!” Black Lace sauntered over the rest of the way to the table, and she hopped up in a most fluid fashion onto the seat, making important things jiggle on the way up. “I'm Black Lace, good to meet ya both,” she giggled, “can ya believe zebras actually rhyme? That's so wild!”

“Yeah,” Lavender raised her voice to the serving counter, “Caffy, refills please!”

“Two fudge brownies too!” added Airmail after a second’s thought.

“Sure thing, Lavender,” the orange zebra then waved a hoof at the pegasus. “Okay Airy!” he at last forewent the rhymes his kind was so well known for. Even he could only keep it up for so long.

“So, I'm Lavendar, and that one is Airmail,” the chocolate earth pony made the introductions, waving a hoof between themselves with each other’s names. “We work in the offices upstairs.”

“Aw,” Black Lace made a pouty face at the loss of the rhymes. She had been enjoying those. “And I liked the rhyming, too.” she offered to bump hooves in greeting, the gesture swiftly accepted. “Black Lace. Wait. I said that already.” she giggled and looked around the shop and noticed the elevator with a sign saying ‘Manehatten Times’ on it. “You work at the newspaper place? Sweet. I got a boutique back in Whinnyapolis. ‘Lace With Grace’.”

“Politics,” clarified Airmail, “but I could refer you to advertising.”

Lavender made with a bright little laugh, “You’re a part of that thing brought on by the Celestia Six member, Rarity?”

“I do like your outfit,” Airmail openly looked over the unicorn’s attire now it was up close. She had zero clue when it came to fashion, unless it was to do with stripping panties off of her wife and her herd-mates. Even she could tell what she wore was quality. “It would look good on my wife. And on my bedroom floor.”

“Yeah,” Lavender snarked, “I don't think my husband could pull it off, though.”

“Yuhuh! I'm here for the fashion expo next week. If I'm a super good filly and the stars align and the wind’s in the right direction, I might even get to meet her! I mean, spin my horseshoes, can you imagine meeting 'the' Rarity?” she snickered at the absurdity of it, “And ma'am, you'd be surprised. I made a dress for a stallion back home last month. Dolled him up mighty nice.”

“I don't know if Shoe has been to Whinnyapolis,” pondered Airmail playfully.

“Maybe it was Dusky?” asked Lavender, and the two herd-mates shared a laugh with each other. “I've never met Rarity. Heard she’s nice though.”

“I've only seen her from a distance, and we didn't talk,” commented Airmail, before asking, “You've met up with Coco?”

Just as the unicorn was about to answer, Caffienated made his brownie, donut and coffee delivery. “For you, Black Lace, I must save face. Some know not the power of rhyme, so those I give not the time.” He smirked as he set down the things on the table.

“Okay,” Airmail shot to the zebra, “where does that leave Thespy?”

“Leave the fairest mare in all the land? May the goddess have me breathe moon sand.”

Black Lace looked a little blank at the in joke between the three, then to Lavender she said, “Coco? As in, Coco Pommel? No ma'am. I'm hoping to meet her too at the expo, that'd be so cool. Talk a little shop, try and whore out the stuff I make - in a fashion sense, I mean - get a name for myself. For now, this week, I wanna see the big city.” She then took her donut up in her magic and gave it a long lick, and she stuck her tongue right in the hole and wiggled it around.

Silently, Airmail fell off her seating pad like she’d had a heart attack and reached up to slap a golden bit coin in Lavender's waiting hoof. “She thought that was only a Canterlot eating style.”

Black Lace looked to both Airmail and Lavender, the donut still on her face, her nose supporting the hole. She lowered it slow. “What did I do? Sorry, I'm kind of a messy eater. So, uh, what and where are the places to see and go to? I don't mean brochure tourist trap stuff. I mean the real stuff, like what you do.”

After taking a mouthful of her coffee, Airmail snorted, “I type words.”

Lavender offered the new mare a kind smile, “I answer the phones. Still. There’s Central Park. Great vendors, there is a splash fountain. Band shell. People watching. Most of my herd is in theatre. A lot of great shows to see at night.” Lavender and Airmail both looked at each other and said together, “MiAC!”

Laughing, Airmail added, “They have one of those in Whinnytown? The beach here is nice. Good vendors there too, and some salt water to get in all your fur.”

“The MiAC in Whinnyapolis is pretty cool,” nodded Black Lace quickly. “Ya know, Central Park sounds fun. Between us mares, I have a side quest while I’m here, speaking of the MiAC. See I'm hoping to get me a hunky dude to put a collar with this bridle.”

Back home, a comment like that would have scandalised half the room. Here it got no special reaction.

“Well, certainly none in the herd,” said Airmail with a hoof to her chin in thought.

“There is Text,” thought Lavender out loud, “but he is thirteen.”

“He does like the fillies,” pointed out Airmail, to which Lavender shot her a look half way between amused and outraged. “My night life is a club on Stallion Island, but it’s the thirty-five plus pony crowd.”

“My night life is hoping Jasmine will let me rest.”

“Rest?” Airmail gave Lavender an incredulous look, “I have three, three-year-old fillies in the house! What is this ‘rest’ you speak of?”

“There is always Trixie’s Place,” opined Lavender.

“True,” agreed Airmail, nodding her head, “but you’ll never know if you'll find a free one and I doubt you'd want to pay for a one-night adventure.”

“I don't wanna pay for it!” protested Black Lace, “I ain't that desperate, not yet. And ma'am, thirty five is young! Have you seen Whinnyapolis? Crusty oldster ponies are the norm. Yawn, and no thanks, ya know?”

Unable to resist a tease, Lavender smiled, “Did you just call my friend old and crusty?”

“Old stallions are crusty,” Black Lace amended her statement without missing a beat, “Old mares are cool.” She then gave her donut a long lick and nibbles at a good part of it. “I'm hoping out here there'll be a stallion, or cock or drake even, I'm not fussy, as long as they're hunky, a hottie and they know how to tame a spunky mare. Pa's words. Not mine.”

“Could let Mapper loose on her?” snickered Airmail, “She would know where to go.”

“Hm,” agreed Lavender thoughtfully, “And Mapper would drag them over to the house on Thursday.”

Airmail laughed out loud at that, “Well that fashion expo show doesn't start till gaming night. She could come.”

“I thought you didn't do entertainment?” questioned Lavender with a raised eyebrow.

“Thespian.” Stated Airmail, in a way that said nothing more needed to be said on the matter. Instead, both mares simply raised their mugs and drank deeply.

“Who is Mapper?” questioned Black Lace, “And why would she drag me anywhere?” she lifted up her coffee in her magical aura and took a long sip, “But hey, if she knows of a kinky hottie hideout, I'm game.”

Instead of answering the question put to them by the unicorn, Lavender asked, “Maybe you've heard of the opera singer, Serenity?”

“Pfft, who hasn't heard of Serenity?” Black Lace looked genuinely incredulous, like each of the mares had grown an extra head. “A few years back I remember she appeared at the Old Opera House back home. Ma and Pa dragged me along to go see her sing. What a night! The opera was dull as all heck, but I’ll never forget the dresses she wore! Spank my flanks! It got me wanting to make my own!”

“She is Mapper's wife,” explained Airmail.

“Mapper is the mistress of our BDSM group,” put in Lavender.

Airmail added further, “Stripes over there is the alpha stallion of our herd.”

“HIs wife, Thespian, is the alpha mare.”

“And Mapps is partial to lost fillies,” giggled Airmail as she drained the last of her coffee, savouring every last drop.

“Too bad she’s looking for a stallion,” quipped Lavender as she too saw off her drink, “but I'm sure she could help.”

“Thespian?” though she had heard the name mentioned before by the two mares, at last the big golden bit began to drop. “As in, The Best Little Whorehouse in Canterlot, Thespian, who totally rocked the red outfit with the hat? Oh wowsers! And I'm not 'lost' or anything, I mean yeah, I'm kinda new to the whole bondage scene do, but I dance though, back home. At the Bridle Path Gentlecolt club, on weekends.”

“Can't say I've ever heard of that,” Lavender spoke more to herself than anypony at the table, “but I'm born and raised here. Dancing is up Belle's alley.”

“Too bad Darkie went off to Zebrica,” Airmail mused, “Our name dropping does seem to be having an effect,” she shared a laugh with her friend, “you’d like a dominant male, any species?”

“Since we're sharing, I guess,” Black Lace blushed so that a faint crimson came to her pure white cheeks, “I've always thought, a griffon, would be cool. And hot. To collar and leash me like I was his prey animal. To be claimed and dominated and ooooh!” she shifted on the seating pad, “Sorry.”

“A griffon, huh?” Airmail snorted derisively, “Their rations still taste like shit,” Lavender giggled at that as she watched Airmail pull out her phone. “Hi Mapps, we found a little lost filly in Caffy’s place.” There was a brief pause while the pony on the other end said something. A greeting most likely. “She walked in and made love to a donut.” A second pause, and Black Lace could hear laughter. “Yeah, it was sexy. She's looking for a male dom, and she would prefer beak and claws.” A longer pause occurred this time. “Yeah, Moony did put on a good show.” During the fourth pause, Airmail looked at Black Lace like she was assessing her. “She says be here Wednesday at seven in the evening. You're on your own till then. What do I tell her?”

“Tell her I'll be here Wednesday at seven sharp, ma'am, thank you, ma'am!” replied the stunned unicorn, who couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. “Oh wow, like 'dial a dom delivery service!” she giggled in an obvious, nervous young filly kind of way. “I’m rambling. Sorry.”

Lavender could well understand what the unicorn was feeling. They had after all, sprung a rather big thing on her out of nowhere. She put a hoof to her chin, in thought. “How to put this. Mapper is no nonsense, but she loves nonsense.”

To that, Airmail snorted. “She is part of my mini herd, and she was the first one before we were a herd. Don't be wishy washy and you'll do fine.”

“If you decide to change teams, she will play with you. But don't do that for her,” cautioned the earth pony, “as she won't keep you.”

“Don't worry, ma'am. I don't slam clams, as my grandma said. Once. When she was drunk. I can so do serious. I'll just get my business head on.” Black Lace blushed again, adorably impersonating a ripe tomato. “You guys must think I'm such a filly, I just ramble a bit, when I get nervous. Like now. And my mouth disobeys my brain, and... I’m doing it again.”

“Did you know Serenity is off this Wednesday?” asked Lavender, out of the blue.

“Wha of it...oh…” Airmail sighed, well aware of her herd-mate’s more extreme proclivities. “I had hoped the trips to Canterlot would be enough for her, but yeah…”

Lavender, wisely perhaps, chose not to go into further detail on that matter. The young mare opposite them didn’t need to know how often Serenity needed to visit with Mistress Moonbeams in Canterlot. That was herd mini herd business. “It's not as bad though, right?” she asked tentatively.

“Yeah, they haven't needed medical help, not for a long time anyway. Do you think that one is up to extreme?” asked Airmail, to which Lavender simply shrugged.

“I can do extreme!” squeaked Black Lace, who didn’t want to be left out of the conversation. “I can, see, this one time, I tied myself up in my room above the boutique, and I used a blindfold and even a gag! And...and I spanked myself too, like really hard, with a belt, with studs in! You could see pink on my butt and everything! It was so cool!” her black tail swished at the memory.

All of a sudden, Airmail started laughing and she pointed a forehoof at Lavender, who flushed and looked away. “Whatever, I was her age when I did that!” however, a laughing Airmail was laying on the floor catching her breath, making her friend colour up even more. “Good thing I did it in Caffy's house. Topper had to work that night and... oh, whatever.”

“What...” Black Lace looked from Airmail to Lavender. “Isn't that extreme enough? I mean, it felt pretty extreme when I came buckets. It was a big gag too, my jaw ached for ages! Or, oh! Or, I strip when I pole dance. The stallions all think that's pretty extreme.”

“Keep thinking that. Let's get back to work Lav. I want to get off on time. Wily gets all pouty if there is no call for her.” Both of the older mares got up and spared the unicorn a smile and a friendly nuzzle of goodbye. “Omega should be back by three. Take care Black Lace.”

~ ~ ~

Wednesday came at the same time too quickly and too slowly for Black Lace’s liking. Tuesday, she had spent visiting the Statue of Harmony, the huge earth pony mare holding the Statutes of Harmony in one hoof and the Torch of Friendship in the other. That had been awesome.

All day that Wednesday, the unicorn had spent at the Victorian Gardens fairground. Several rollercoasters, a big dipper, a big wheel and the carny games, as well as the many vendors dotted around had all conspired to make her a good deal of bits lighter.

She reflected on that as she sat in Stripe’s Cup of Java that evening. A slight curse left her lips due to it still being hot and humid even at that time of day, and a thanks to the alicorn of air conditioning. She checked herself over as she waited.

A pale blue bridle with gold effect accents adorned her head, the ring of which sat at the base of her horn. Matching stockings, corset and dress completed her look. At least it made her think cool thoughts, a ward against the incessant summer. She was pleased, at seven exactly, to see a very pink unicorn walk into the coffee shop.

There was absolutely no doubt in Black Lace’s mind that this was the mare she had been waiting for. She just had a certain, dominant, air about her bearing. Like she expected everypony in her vicinity to bow to her just because it was her Celestia-given right. That, and the fact that Serenity followed her in just a couple of steps behind. Both of them were wearing what she recognised instantly as Coco Pommel's original dresses from the spring line.

To her blush, Black Lace also saw that Serenity’s look was also complete with a bridle plus panties. Panties designed to show off her plot than cover it up. She was so busy processing the fact that the world famous opera singer was

For its part, the quarter eaten caramel donut and the lukewarm white coffee had no opinion to share on the matter.

“Leaf, my usual,” Mapper said loudly in just the kind of dominant tone of voice that the younger unicorn expected to hear. She wasn’t disappointed. “Pet has been well behaved so she can have a Celestia special, too. A refill and another donut for this fine mare. Plus, two fudge brownies for us.” Without hesitating or asking, the pink mare sat herself imperiously across from Black Lace and Serenity sat next to her.

“Heya!” Black Lace held out a forehoof after a couple of seconds of awkward silence between the three of them. “I'm Black Lace. Ms Airmail and Ms Lavender said you'd be here at seven.”

Mapper’s cool gaze betrayed nothing. Quietly she surveyed the young white unicorn seated before her and communicated with her wife via the link they shared. She liked the first impressions she received. “Did they lie?”

“Totally not, Mistress. I’m just glad you showed and on time, too. I hate no shows, ya know?”

Impassively, Mapper turned her attention audibly now to her wife. “Serenity.”

“She is very nervous about you,” Serenity spoke in her melodic, musical voice. A voice that could sell snow to a yak. “Skittish what you might do. She has no fear though. interesting. She will do.” She completed her verbal assessment as Leaf delivered two Celestia specials and two brownies on one plate, as well as a creamy coffee and caramel donut to Black Lace.

“Truth,” the younger of the unicorns admitted, seeing to reason to lie or to hide anything from these two, “I'm nervous about a lot of things, Mistress. Top of the list right now is being sat this close to ‘the’ Serenity! Spin my tail, your dresses are amazing! But I'm a professional, no babbling.”

Liking what she heard from Serenity, and silently agreeing that if the young unicorn wasn’t nervous there would be something very wrong, Mapper pointed to her and her ensemble with a hoof. “Your design and make?”

“Yes Mistress, ma'am!” Black Lace visibly preened with pride, almost glowing from the notice. “Got a whole case of 'em to wear for the expo.”

Mapper nodded thoughtfully. She was no fashion expert by any means, but she’d bought enough things from Coco over the years to recognise skill when she saw it. Hoof-stitched skill too, no less, if her eye was any guess. “Airy told me you made love to a donut. I wonder if she can do better than middle pet?” beside her, Serenity said nothing, but her gaze was attentive and focused.

Blinking wide eyed for just a second, Black Lace’s brain quickly caught up. “Oh, you mean this?” she lit her horn and levitated up her donut and licked all around the hole, sliding her tongue inside and all through it, swirling it around in an obviously overtly lewd manner.

Serenity just nodded her head. “Middle pet could teach her,” she said eventually, like her Mistress she was satisfied with what she saw from the younger unicorn.

Mapper had seen enough, enough to know this young mare would do nicely. No undue fear, a healthy amount of nerves, alert and no-nonsense, nice amount of respect and cute on top of all that. “I'm unsure any pony should have that complete skill.” She then lightly clapped her forehooves in appreciation. “Good effort.”

“Thank you, Mistress. I can tie a knot with just my tongue too. Oh, before I forget, I got you something,” she lit her horn once more and levitated a twelve inch Luna plush from her bag on the floor. “There was a fairground up town, Victorian Garden? I won it on the ball toss.”

Barely supressing a delighted squeal, Mapper thoroughly composed herself before she spoke. “Yes, Clementine's stall, I know it well.” Being a carny pony herself, she had literally seen thousands of such plush toys. Thespian owned most of those. Serenity took hold of the plush in her own magic and placed it carefully on her back like it was the crown jewels of Equestria. “You must be skilled.”

“She spent more than the plush is worth, but she did win in the end.”

Mapper turned an eye to her wife, and they again shared a silent dialogue. “It is the thought and the victory that matters. A griffon?”

At the mention of what the plush cost her to win, Black Lace blushed, casting an adorable pink hue across her cheeks. It had cost her half an hour of her life and several dozen bits. But that wasn’t important. “I don't like to lose. And you're doing me a solid, ya know? I don't take something for nothing.” She sipped at her coffee and fancied she could see a slight grin on Mapper’s impervious poker face. “Yeah, a griffon. They're hot. Strong, bold and honourable. Deadly with talons.”

“They like blood. Pony blood.”

Black Lace nodded her head vigorously in agreement to Mapper’s statement. “I want to be conquered, Mistress. Tamed, even, by a dominant griffon.”

Mapper was impressed, and she didn’t impress easily. This unicorn would’ve been a treasure to add to her collection, had circumstances been different, perhaps. Oh well. “Will you be returning to your boutique after the convention?”

“Yuhuh. That's the plan, Mistress. I’ve got plenty of room though.”

As Mapper nodded her head, Serenity stood and left the shop without a word. “I’m curious. Does blood wash out of that dress?”

“Yes Mistress, ma'am. I don't do shoddy work.”

A moment later, and Serenity re-entered the coffee shop, this time with simply the tallest griffon Black Lace had ever seen in her life. Granted, she’d only met three, and they were her customers back home. “Greetings Artur,” Mapper met him like she was welcoming an old friend.

“Is this the pony Moonbeak told me about?” Artur asked, after politely greeting Mapper with an incline of his head.

“It is.” She replied, before addressing Black Lace. “You may call him Ironclaw, unless he is feeling generous.” Mapper had grown to like Artur. For a male, he was most pleasant company, and he always helped with the BDSM parties the herd hosted at Caffeinated’s ranch. She assumed it was because she was going soft in her old age. The thought made Serenity giggle.

“Thank you, Mistress.” Black Lace then turned her full and undivided attention to Artur. He was easily a head taller than she, and sported a fine chest plumage of copper red feathers that went all the way to his head. Patches of grey surrounded his piercing green eyes. Further back, his wings started as a light brown, almost yellow, and ended in grey feathers. Dark brown fur covered the rest of his body, which was all sinew and toned muscle. In short, he was magnificent. She made a respectful bow, and in decent griffonian, said, “Master Ironclaw, good evening to you and honour to your house.”

Artur certainly was not expecting the pony to be able to speak griffonian. While it wasn’t perfect, it was commendable, nonetheless. He cast a green eye at Mapper. “This one is named Black Lace, but that is just her given name. Ser and I are off to the Scene, both of you are welcome to join us.”

“Lace is delicate,” stated Artur, his voice deep for a griffon. It rumbled all the way down Black Lace’s spine to her marehood. “A good name for a pony. Will this Scene take a griffon?” he asked, to which Mapper nodded. “Then we will join you.”

Black Lace didn't shy away from Artur’s piercing look. She held his gaze, standing her ground before him. “Lace is also surprisingly durable, Master.”

Artur’s feathers bristled ever so slightly. A smile tugged at the edges of his beak. He could smell her nerves. He could hear her rapid heartbeat. Her ears were up, her eyes sharp. She was his prey, but he could tell already she would make him earn her. Excellent. “I shall test that, Lace.”

When Mapper walked out of the coffee shop accompanied by Serenity at her side, Artur turned and walked away without a backwards glance. Black Lace, realising this was her moment, quickly hopped off the seating pad, floated up her saddlebags to her back and followed the departing trio at a quick enough pace so that she was a nose behind and to the side of Artur.

Sighing, Leaf moved over to clean the table and take away the trash. “Mapper's tab it is.”

Out on the almost empty sidewalk, Mapper walked at a brisk pace with Serenity to her left and alongside her. Artur motioned to his left with his wingtip. The unicorn had impressed him by waiting to be ordered rather than assuming she could walk where she chose. Nodding her head, Black Lace stepped up to be alongside him, her head up and a high step in her walk.

“I work at the wharf in Brooks and live there. Your accent is odd. Where are you from?” he studied her as they walked together. The pale blue bridle accentuated the line of her jaw. The matching socks made her legs go all the way up. And that corset… to mark this prey as his… it made his sheath tingle.

“Whinnyapolis, Master,” Black Lace was careful to keep the deference in her voice. Respect, but not fawning admiration, which was the ticket. “I own a clothing boutique there. I'm here to attend the two week fashion expo starting next week.” She thought for a moment, her high step not faltering in the slightest. “I apologise, I haven't visited the fish market on the wharf yet.”

“Most of my pony clients are winged,” said Artur, “you are horned. Strong at magic?”

“Strong enough,” Black Lace answered humbly, “Master. With dressmaking, I specialise in using my telekinesis to augment my hooves. My other magic is...limited.” he didn’t need to know that her energy bolts had all the power of a butterfly flying into a brick wall. Or that her shield was considered a joke back at school.

“My cousin, Moonbeak, has a unicorn stallion for a pet.” He smiled when he thought of Brightstar. That unicorn was more griffon than most griffons he knew. “I have you till you leave. Should be fun.”

“Until I leave?” Black Lace smiled, “Should you claim me and mark me, under griffon law stated by Stormclaw the second, my property becomes yours, Master.”

Idly, Artur waved what she said away with a wave of his claw. Internally he was overjoyed. This unicorn was no mere prey, it seemed she was determined to leave her mark on him. He preferred them like this. Spirited, independent, educated. It made the hunt all the more rewarding when he won. “I'll not leave Manehatten,” he spoke evenly, playing the game well, “I will not move your shop to here. I will enjoy you for now. Maybe you will visit again.”

A dramatic sigh left the unicorn’s mouth. “And I was trying to impress with my knowledge, too.”

A sly grin formed on Artur’s beak. The mare was fearless enough to let her guard down and make a mistake around him. Perfect! “I didn't take you for a dummy, but the lack of 'Master’ on that last one may make me reconsider.” To break her and claim her, it made his griffon blood stir.

Almost instantly, Black Lace lit up in a bright red blush that warmed her whole face. It was plenty hot enough, thanks to the alicorn of air conditioning abandoning her to the summer evening. Very quickly, she corrected herself. “Master, your pony apologises for her grave error. Please teach her so it doesn't happen again, Master.”

“Your safe word,” requested Artur, who refused to let himself fantasise too much too soon. Things would unfold as Stormclaw willed, and that was that, “and anything you think is off limits.”

“Stitch, Master.” Black Lace thought for a moment as they walked. She wasn’t paying attention to where they were going, she was happy to let him lead. Had she noticed, she would see they were now on Bridleway, home of the theatres. “Scat, vomit, spit, really gross things like that, are a no. Really tight spaces are...difficult. My pa and grandpa are pegasi, Master. I inherited their claustrophobia.”

A rumbling laugh that sounded like faraway thunder hit the unicorn in all her right places. “And I thought death would be on that list.”

“I'm not helping you eat the evidence!” declared Mapper, who had seemingly awoken from the silent communication she had been engaged in with her wife.

The blush that coated Black Lace’s face threatened to have her burst into flames. “W-We-Well, yes! Um, Master!” she tried to recover her composure, more than once, steadying herself until she could speak again. “I like to dance, a-and I get off on being displayed, looked at. And…”

Artur silenced her with a curt nod. He would discover what she liked over the next few hours. He resolved to draw them from her like a healer drew poison from a wound. “She has pleased me. She will do, Mapper.”

“Good, for we are here.” ‘Here’ was outside the forty second street theatre, on Bridleway, which was closed up. The windows were all boarded. It seemed to Black Lace it hadn’t been in service for some length of time. Mapper led her group down a scary looking pitch black alley to a door that was beyond the reach of the street lights. She knocked a hoof once on the solid steel door. When a small window opened, she passed through a small token. “Four.”

And with that, the door opened, granting them access to the Scene.