Most of the time, the hardest part of dressmaking was in making something that would adequately compensate for its wearer's flaws. Clients wished to hide stubby horns, or floppy wings, or flanks swollen by unseemly pudge, and so Rarity's considerable talents had to be turned to base concealment. Rainbow Dash didn't take much care with her appearance, but she had an athlete's slim, toned body. No, the problem in Rainbow's outfits wasn't in flattering her figure, but rather in making something which she would consent to wear.
Rarity glared at the pegasus in question. "Stop fidgeting, Rainbow Dash," she said. "For all that you complain about being fitted for a dress, you certainly don't make it go any faster."
Dash continued to fidget. "Look, Rarity, it's nice of you to offer, but I don't need another dress. I've already got, like, three—I'll just wear one of those again."
"Rainbow Dash, it's bad enough you waited this long to come to me," Rarity huffed. "We're going a Royal Ball. We received invitations from Princess Celestia herself! And you'd show up wearing an old dress? Unacceptable."
"You're the only one making a big deal about it!" Dash shouted. She shook herself, and Rarity suppressed a small scream of frustration at the sound of dress pins falling to the floor. She took a deep breath, then sighed and knelt to pick up the fallen pins.
"I don't see why you're so opposed to the idea, Dash. Our friends might not be particularly interested in fashion, but they don't object like you do. Now stand still; I don't want to jab you by accident." Dash grunted, but she stopped squirming quite so much.
Rarity worked for a bit, but the vaguely hostile silence was near as bad as the fidgeting. She tried to get Dash talking again. "Rainbow Dash, you needn't be so contrary. You'd be a very pretty mare, if only you worked at it more."
Dash grunted noncommittally.
"Your mane, for instance—such colour! You might be satisfied with a windblown mess, but it's such a waste. I'd love to see what a stylist could do with your mane."
Another grunt.
"Your figure—you're perhaps not a classical beauty, but I know mares who would kill to be as fit as you are. There are ponies who pay thousands of bits for personal trainers, but you maintain your shape so easily. I'm almost jealous."
Again, only a grunt in response.
"But you don't even seem to care! Celestia's sake, even Applejack takes an occasional visit to the spa. You really should join us sometime, Rainbow Dash."
"I don't like other ponies touching me."
Well, at least she's back to using words, Rarity thought. Out loud, she said, "What are you talking about? I'm fitting you for a dress right now."
Dash shuddered theatrically. "I know, and it's killing me."
Rarity smacked her lightly on the shoulder. "Oh, stop it. You don't have to be afraid of fashion."
At that, Dash bristled and turned to face Rarity. "I'm not afraid, Rarity!"
The corner of Rarity's mouth quirked upward. "Oh, getting defensive, are we?"
"I said, I'm not afraid of anything!"
Rarity fought to keep the smile off of her face. I think I have an idea. "Oh, you put on a brave face, my dear Rainbow, but I know the truth. Visions of fashion shows and catwalks haunt your nightmares!" She laughed, trying hard to fit the right tone in. Mocking, but only gently so. Just enough to raise hackles without making her truly angry.
Rainbow Dash flared her wings and snorted. "Cut it out, Rarity. I'm not afraid of anything. Least of all some frilly outfit!"
"You say that, but you can't even stay still for a simple dress fitting!"
"Fine!" Dash shouted. "I'll stand still. Will that prove it to you?"
Rarity put on a frown. "I suppose it's a start—but holding still isn't much of a feat, now is it?"
"What, then?"
Rarity grinned. Almost there. "You say you're not afraid?"
"No way."
"Then why don't you prove it?"
"Any time, Rarity. No frilly outfit's gonna get the best of me."
"Then how about..." Rarity tapped her chin, pretending to think hard. "Well, if you want to prove you're not afraid, then how about this: firstly, the dress gets done. Secondly, one week from now, on the night of the Ball, you'll meet me early. We'll go down to the spa, and you'll get your hooves done, your mane styled, your wings preened—everything."
"What?! That's—"
Rarity shook her head. "Why so nervous? If you're really not afraid, then you won't hesitate to spend one night"—she paused for effect—"pretty."
Dash's face twisted up in realisation, and Rarity suppressed a cry of glee at how well her plan had worked. When Dash spoke again, her voice was sullen. Defeated. Oh, victory was sweet.
"I'm not afraid, Rarity," she said. "But what's in it for me if I take you up on your offer?"
Rarity smiled. It's not polite to gloat at one's victory. "Why, Rainbow Dash," she said, "you'll get to learn about a whole new side of yourself! Isn't that reward enough?"
"Ugh. Pass." Dash glanced to each side, then up at the ceiling, and shuffled closer to Rarity. "Actually, I've got an idea," she said—still loud, but quiet compared to her normal voice. "Rarity, d'you have any stallions you've got an eye on? Romantically, I mean."
Rarity raised an eyebrow. What is she getting at? "No," she said, "I can't say I do. After that fiasco with Prince Blueblood, I've rather been focusing on my career."
"Any mares?"
This time, both of Rarity's eyebrows went up. "No. I don't have anything against fillyfoolers, but I myself am, ah, not... like that."
Dash grinned. "You wanna test that?"
"I'm sorry?"
"I said, you wanna test that?" Dash said. "C'mon, it seems to me like a fair trade. You get one night to do whatever you want to me, fashion-wise, and I get one night to..." Her tongue flicked over her lips. "To do, well, whatever I want to you. A trade, see?"
Rarity put a hoof to her chest. "Do you actually expect me to accept this ridiculous proposition?"
Dash wouldn't stop grinning. "Hey, you were the one talking about how pretty I am. And, y'know, you're not bad yourself. A little fussier than I generally go for, but not bad."
"'Not bad'?" Rarity screeched. "I'll have you know, I am—" She stopped in the middle of her sentence. "Er, straight. I am straight. One hundred per-cent heterosexual. And I refuse your offer of a trade."
Rainbow Dash shrugged. "Fine, whatever."
She was supposed to fight harder than that! No, wait—I don't want her to fight for it. I am not at all intrigued by this offer. "Good," Rarity said. "I'm glad you can see reason. Now, if you'll just turn around—"
Rainbow Dash shook herself, sending Rarity's work tumbling to the ground. "Nah. Since I'm not going to get all prettied-up, I'll just go without clothes." She stepped out of the tangled pile of cloth and started towards the door. "Anyway, I'll see you at the Ball."
"Wait!" Rarity said, rather louder than she'd intended.
Rainbow Dash turned her head, her mane an artful mess in the light. "What is it, Rarity?"
Rarity pressed her lips tightly together, then sighed. "One night?"
"Yup."
"And you would tell no one?"
Rainbow Dash smiled. "Pinkie Promise. It'll be our little secret."
Rarity shut her eyes. What am I doing? she wondered, but she kept going. "Fine then, Rainbow Dash," she said. "I accept your offer of a trade. A night of fashion for a night of... whatever debauchery you have planned."
"I don't know what 'debauchery' means."
"Congress. Intercourse. Intimacy." Rarity waved a hoof, and was unable to prevent a grimace from crossing her face. "Sex."
Rainbow Dash gasped. "Sex?! That's what you thought I wanted from you? What kind of pony do you think I am, Rarity?"
Rarity felt a simultaneous sense of relief and... was that disappointment? No, nonsense. "You weren't talking about sex? Then what—"
Dash burst out laughing. "I'm kidding, Rarity. Of course I'm talking about sex. Now come on, where's your bedroom?"
Oh dear, Rarity thought, I may have misjudged this situation. But she took a deep breath and soldiered on, for the sake of fashion. "It's... it's upstairs," she said, mostly succeeding in keeping the nervous trembling out of her voice. "The second door on the right."
"Great!" Dash zipped up the stairs, then turned around. "C'mon, Rarity, get a move on! Up!"
Rarity's heart fluttered, but she nodded and followed Dash up the stairs. She tried to distract herself from the implications of her deal, and focus instead on plans for the Royal Ball. How shall I have her mane done? she wondered. A bun, perhaps? With some sort of jewelled hairpiece. Yes, that might work.
She took another step up and came down hard. She'd reached the top of the stairs and hadn't noticed.
Makeup... Normally I'd be more subtle, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: I should take full advantage of it. So something daring, something to bring out her eyes—perhaps a metallic shade? Or, oh! One of those new bespelled cosmetics would be just the thing! And for her lips— The lips in question were suddenly pulled from idle distraction to the forefront of Rarity's mind, as Dash pulled her into a rough kiss.
Rarity flinched and Dash pulled away. She exhaled. "Look, Rarity, if you really don't want to do this, I'm not gonna force you. We can go back downstairs. So I won't let you take me to the spa or whatever, but you can still make the dress if you want. I'll stand still."
Rarity took a deep breath and steeled herself. "No, Rainbow Dash. I will not let this opportunity pass me by. No matter what I have to do first, I will make you fabulous."
This time Rarity was the one to lean forward, pressing her mouth against Dash's. She felt Dash's tongue probing at her closed lips, and she parted them just enough to let Dash's tongue slip in.
Quite contrary to her expectations, Rarity didn't mind Dash's tongue. It was certainly not an unpleasant sensation. To be honest, it was in fact somewhat enjoyable. Well, to be entirely honest, the insides of Rarity's thighs were slick with arousal. While it was the stallion's form which truly drew her attention, she couldn't deny that certain of her fantasies had involved paramours of the female persuasion.
Well, she could deny it. Denial simply wouldn't do much good when she was in the hallway—no, wait, in the bedroom—with a friend who was, while occasionally inelegant, undeniably female. And at least somewhat attractive. More than somewhat. Very attractive, really, though surely she was just getting caught up in the heat of the moment—
As Dash pushed her down onto the bed, Rarity comforted herself with the certainty that Dash would not boast of this particular tryst. A Pinkie Promise would ensure her silence. Also, Rarity was becoming rather distracted from her earlier misgivings. While her original intention had been to lie back and think of fashion, she now found her thoughts rather preoccupied with the feel of Rainbow Dash's body pressed against her own, and Rainbow Dash's tongue in her mouth.
And then Dash was pulling away. Rarity held back a hungry little whimper; it wouldn't be dignified. But she wanted Dash's tongue back all the same.
A long, tongue-less moment passed. Dash was straddling Rarity, who found herself rather puzzled. Why was nothing happening? It wasn't in Dash's nature to hesitate. Her answer came when Dash fluttered her wings, closed her eyes, and began to speak. Her voice was stiff, as though she were trying to make a speech for which she hadn't adequately prepared.
"Rarity, I'm kinda flattered you're this devoted to your whole fashion thing, but I'm giving you another chance to back out."
"Rainbow—"
"You're stubborn, I know, but I'm not trying to humiliate you. Look, if I wanted to humiliate you, I would've told you to roll in a mud puddle or something."
"Yes—"
"And it's not just about the sex, either. Sure, you're pretty hot. But just now, y'know, you're kind of a terrible kisser. And, uh, I'm kinda doubting you're gonna be much good at the other stuff."
"Well—"
Dash shook her head vigourously, sending her mane even further into disarray. "Stop interrupting! Look, Rarity, half the fun of sex is knowing that the other pony's having fun. So—"
"For Celestia's sake, Rainbow Dash, I'm not making any objections! Stop wasting time and just rut me already!"
Dash opened her eyes and looked down at Rarity. "Oh." She blinked a few times. "Well. Yeah. I guess not." Rarity tried to gesture downwards without being too lewd—although she supposed they were far beyond lewdness at this point—and Dash nodded happily. "Yeah! So, yeah, Rarity. Sit back, relax, and let Rainbow Dash rock you like a fuckin' hurricane."
Rarity rolled her eyes. "You're most attractive when you're not talking, Rainbow. And I'm sure"— here she gestured downward with a little more intensity—"that you could find something more worthwhile to do at this moment?"
Dash licked her lips showily. "Oh yeah? I thought you were 'entirely straight' and all?" She shifted into what was apparently intended to be an imitation of Rarity's voice, though it bore little resemblance. "Oh, Rainbow Dash, I have no idea what you're talking about! When I dream, I dream exclusively of strong, manly stallions carrying me away! Oh, Rainbow Dash—"
Rarity tired of this mockery. She snorted in disdain, then pushed Dash's head down. "Shush, you. You're wasting your time. Our bargain covers only one night, remember."
"Unless you beg for more," Dash said. Though Rarity couldn't see her face, she could hear the smirk.
"Such boasting, considering you haven't—"
Dash buried her muzzle between Rarity's thighs, turning righteous indignation into something rather less dignified. "Oh. Oh. Ooooh my goodness that's good." Rarity wriggled on the bed, moaning incoherently, until Dash thrust her tongue inside of her and she yelped in response. "Ah! Agh!"
Dash pulled back immediately, and her quick movements drove Rarity over the edge. She arched her back, her yelp drawing out into a screech of joy, then subsided into happy little breaths. Though her eyes were closed, she knew Dash would be watching, and that knowledge brought its own sort of enjoyment—even beyond the rather more immediate pleasures Dash had inflicted.
Rarity opened her eyes to see Dash looking at her with a knowing smile. "You okay, Rares?"
Rarity bit her lip. Why must I enjoy this so? "Um, yes, I am perfectly okay. That was... that was a good 'agh'."
Dash's grin widened. Thankfully, though, she didn't say anything. Even more thankfully, she went back down between Rarity's thighs, back to her ministrations. However... Rarity smiled inwardly and slipped a tendril of magic teasing between Dash's legs.
Dash yelped, a decidedly more panicked yelp than Rarity's own had been, and jumped out of the bed to hover against against the ceiling.
Rarity furrowed her brow. "What are you doing, Rainbow?"
Dash chuckled nervously, glancing from side to side. "Well, I wouldn't want to pressure you into anything. That's all. I'm thinking maybe you're moving a little too fast for yourself."
"Rainbow Dash, worried about speed? While I am, ah, grateful for your attentions, this is after all your night. What's really the problem?"
Dash shifted back and forth, but Rarity kept up her glare. Finally, Dash relented. "Urgh. Well, if you really wanna know, I'm kinda... sensitive. I get, like, one giant orgasm and then I'm pretty much done for the night. Kinda wantin' to put that off."
"You're a sprinter, not a marathon-runner?" Rarity giggled. "Ah, no, I of course mean no insult, but it is a little funny. Fastest mare in—"
Dash groaned. "Yeah, yeah, I've heard all the jokes before. Anyway, can I just, y'know, get back to eating you out?"
Rarity wriggled uncomfortably on her—by now somewhat damp—sheets. She'd need to clean her room very thoroughly the next morning. "That would be lovely, but I feel... guilty, leaving you uncared-for. After all, this is supposed to be for your benefit."
"Hmm. Got any toys we could use then, Rares?"
Rarity ceased wriggling. She had certain "implements" hidden in the back of her Idea Room's voluminous closet, but she'd be damned if she'd let Dash know about them. "No. No, I do not. I have no idea what you're talking about."
Dash, at least, had the decency not to confront her on that.
Dash floated slowly back down to the bed. "Well... I guess it is getting kinda late..." She shifted position, slipping one of her hindlegs between Rarity's. "I mean, you're looking kinda tired. And you've got still got that dress you're making." She began to rock back and forth, slowly grinding herself against Rarity's thigh. "So, since you've got all that work to do, once more and then we'll call it a night?" A small smile crossed her face. "And since I'm letting you off so easy, how about once in the morning, too?"
Rarity looked into Rainbow's bright, eager eyes. She sighed in contentment, at the slow, insistent grind of Rainbow's body against her own. "Mmmm, I think that seems a fair bargain." She leaned up to kiss Dash, who met her slowly, almost shyly. As their tongues met, Rarity shivered.
When making dresses, one had to be rather physical with one's client, but that was a purely businesslike transaction. The client's body wasn't there as a body; it was a mere frame to hold the outfit which she was to create. There was no real intimacy involved in such an act.
And Rarity had expected this to be much the same—had intended for that to be the case. She'd meant only to trade in "intercourse"—no emotional component, no intimacy, only a means to an end. Perhaps somewhat enjoyable means, but ultimately insignificant.
But as Rainbow Dash pressed close against her, sliding against her in soft waves of rippling blue, ragged gasps finally breaking to a long, keening cry—
Rainbow Dash, panting, slowed to a stop. "Haa, haa, wow," she said through heavy breaths. "Wow." She rolled to the side of the bed and took a deep, slow breath, in and out. "Wow." She looked over. "Wow. Was... didja like that, Rarity? Was that good for you?"
Rarity smiled and kissed her on the nose. "I liked it very much, Rainbow Dash. Now go to sleep. We'll talk in the morning."
