Intimate Details

Intimate Details - Part 4 “Silenzio Assoluto”

The first thing Rarity registered was the jewels. Amber and Amethyst blended together to cast rich hues of brown and purple across the entire audience. The miniscule gems, embroidered directly into the patterns and seams of the dress, glittered and glinted in the warm light hitting Octavia from above. From the long skirt of her dress all the way up to her miniscule neckline, Octavia was encrusted with amber and purple. Even from where Rarity sat, she could see the colors and the way they contrasted with Octavia’s own eyes, further accentuated by the eyeliner and mascara. Octavia stood with her back straight and head tall, her raven hair cascading down her back. Her bangs were cut square with her brow, and her posture helped convey a message of strength and confidence that had never been seen before.

The dress itself was slowly revealed as the lighting dimmed on Octavia. The initial impression was for the jewels to dazzle the audience. Now, the dress would stun them. Rich, golden-colored fabric hugged every intimate curve of Octavia from her knees to her shoulders, wrapping her in an embrace as intimate and sweet as a lover’s. Even Rarity was shocked with how well it had fit. Long, slender lines over her hips and a bold, full bodice helped accentuate Octavia’s hips, but not make them seen overly large or garish, as others had seen… The long skirt flared out past her knees, resting full and open enough to reveal Octavia’s delicate ankles and the smooth two-inch heels she wore. Just the slightest hint of her calves could be seen, but nothing higher than that. The fabric covered her legs, making everyone wonder what feminine beauty was otherwise held beneath. Rarity had focused so hard on the waistline of the dress, making sure she wasn’t just slimming Octavia’s curvaceous beauty, but bringing it out. She had accomplished just that, as Octavia spread her stance, pulling her bow from behind her back.

Her long, slender arms were left bare, the creamy pale tone offsetting the brilliant hue of the fabric. From the tops of her breasts to the very tips of her fingers, Octavia’s arms and shoulders had been left bare. Nothing would interfere with her playing, giving her complete range of motion with absolutely no restriction. Slowly, she closed her eyes, lifted her head to the rafters, and played the first few notes.

Immediately, Rarity could feel the emotion grip her. The slow, melancholy tone of the cello vibrated through her very soul, gripping her chest with its baritone solemnity. The sound swelled and built in intensity until Rarity could have sworn it was all she could hear. It filled her ears, her chest, her head. It struck chords deep inside of her chest that she didn’t even know existed. Octavia’s fingers pulled the bow slowly, making her cello hum low and intense.

All around them, on the walls and over the audience, the gems would throw amber and purple pinpricks of light. The shifting display was breathtaking, as the gems captured the rays of light and threw them back at the sold-out crowd. When Octavia reversed the direction of her bow, the light passed over them yet again, following the same pattern it had on it’s first journey. When the next note was played, the light would dance in time with her smooth movements. Octavia alone commanded a show of lights and sound that none in Equestria had ever heard or seen before.

The first song was slow and melancholy, each tone being drawn to the point that it shook every person in the audience. None spoke. None moved. No one could even breathe properly as Octavia continued through the piece. Each movement was slow and deliberate, never taking too long or being cut off short. Each note lasted as long as it should have, and the last dying whisper of her first song was greeted with nothing.

Pure, blissful silence.

When the second song began, though. There was a collective gasp from everyone. Octavia’s arm immediately jumped to action, sending a flash of light over everyone gathered. The notes flew fast and furious in a waterfall of sound, guided by the skillful fingers of the most beautiful thing Rarity had ever seen. The jaunty tune made her heart pound, and filled her chest with a sense of renewal and hope. A perfect counter to the previous song, Rarity felt happy and fulfilled after being humbled so fully. The music pulsed through her veins and pounded in her chest. It shot up and down her spine and washed her through and through with pure awe. Meanwhile, the lights flashing over her face made her ache to see more, to behold the wonder and beauty of Octavia’s music.

Each new song flowed perfectly into the next, ranging from skillful feats of musicianship to slow and mournful songs that made more than a few tears leak out among the audience. Every nuance of the notes that flowed past her ears was not lost on her. On anybody. Beside her, Rarity could see Natalie’s chest heave as she broke down into her own tears. Rarity rested a hand over her own heart, breathing deep to avoid having a breakdown of her own. It was uplifting and motivational, disheartening and melancholy, and above all else, it was just plain moving. The last strain of a haunting chord rippled through the air, and Rarity watched as Octavia lifted her eyes to the rafters once more.

Before the curtain dropped, she saw the tears.

Rarity did not linger. She left immediately, brushing past the awestruck crowd members. Complete silence dominated the entire concert hall well after the curtain had dropped, before it finally begun. The first clap was followed by a second, a third… Soon, the entire concert hall was alive with the roaring, oppressive cheering. People all around her shouted and cried, clapping until the ruckus was nearly deafening. Rarity paid them no mind. She slipped by everyone, walking as fast as her weak legs would carry her. No one stopped her. None of them even gave her a second glance. She wasn’t the only person intent on making a hasty exit. Other women, intent on fixing their tear-stained makeup, were making for the bathroom. Here, she broke free. Soon, the concert hall was behind her, and the frigid night air wrapped around her arms. She had forgotten her coat, left in Octavia’s dressing room. She didn’t care. The first cab she came across she hailed, stoically telling them her address and begging for the heater to be turned on high.

As she arrived at her apartment, Sweetie Belle shot to her feet. “Rarity! How did it go?!” Rarity leaned back against the door to her apartment, her chest heaving as the suppressed emotions finally came to the surface. With an audible thump, her head hit the door, and the tears came in earnest. She cried, not from sadness or anger or even joy. She simply cried because she had to. To release the bottled emotions. Whatever they were, they came in a confusing jumble, falling down her front as she slowly slid to the floor. She was only vaguely aware of Sweetie Belle beside her, clutching her sobbing sister tight to her chest. It went on for several long minutes, until Rarity could finally draw an uneasy, deep breath.

“You might want to go get cleaned up.” Sweetie Belle said softly, rubbing Rarity’s shoulder. Rarity nodded, Wiping a mascara-stained finger under her eyes and standing up at last. Sweetie Belle left her at the bathroom door, where she slowly began to remove the dress and her heels. All the while, the memory lingered with her. From the first note to the last, Rarity could remember each movement well, the way it effected her. She remembered laughing with the crowd, fighting back the dam of tears that threatened to break at any moment, and the pounding of her heart as the cello whispered sad, mournful stories… The hot water cascaded over her naked body, and she sat under the scalding stream, her face turned up into the deluge.

The stress of transporting the dress was but a shadow of a memory. The exhaustion of the weekend but a fleeting dream. Rarity remembered only the performance, and the emotional impact it had just had on her. After soaking and scrubbing for a long time, Rarity finally emerged. At some point, Sweetie Belle had slipped into the bathroom to leave her a change of pajamas. That, and her dress had been removed, along with her heels. Her little sister was rather considerate. Smiling at the thought, Rarity toweled herself dry and put her hair into a loose ponytail before changing into the comfortable cotton t-shirt and shorts. Sweetie Belle was waiting in the hall, and when Rarity smiled at her, she returned it readily.

“You okay?” She asked as Rarity pulled her into a warm hug. Rarity sighed and rested her cheek atop Sweetie Belle’s head.

“I’m not sad. I’m not happy. Nor am I angry… Darling, I’m… Inspired. Humbled. fulfilled.”

“... Remind me to go to the symphony sometime.”

Rarity spent the remainder of the weekend alone in her apartment, though she was not entirely idle. One quick trip to the boutique, and she retrieved her sketch book and tools. The effects of working on the dress and the following performance were not lost on her. She sketched several new designs, one after the other, each one with a rough diagram of Octavia’s body with them. She didn’t know if it was obsession or if she was caught up in designing for her, but something about working for Octavia made Rarity feel more driven than she could ever recall. Time and again, she would let out the hips, raise her hems, and lengthen the inseam of her dresses and pants. Every dress, she would make the specifications to the measurements she had intrinsically memorized over the weekend.

What’s more, her dresses began to slowly but surely become more… Revealing. Plunging necklines and high-cut leg slits revealed more and more to her mind’s eye. Over and over, she imagined the expanse of smooth, creamy skin held underneath the fabric. In one heated drawing session, her right hand darkened with lead, her left began to wander to places it shouldn’t have… Or maybe they should have. Only the first teasing brush against the apex of her sensitivity shocked her out of it. She immediately pulled her hand from underneath the waistline of her skimpy shorts, blushing furiously when she came to realization that she had inadvertently been masturbating to the thought of Octavia in the dress she was designing at the moment… And what a dress it was. Large portions of exposed midriff with a very marked accentuation of the hips made this piece easily one of the most scandalous she had ever made.

Shamefully, she added some legitimate lengths of fabric and a knee-length skirt of simple satin to complete the piece and shut her sketch book. It was time for her to take a break and focus on some of the more… Personal things. But first, she had to wash her hands. She did so with haste, scrubbing away the black stain of lead from her pencil before checking to make sure Sweetie Belle wasn’t home. Thankfully, she was gone. A note on the counter said she was out documenting some plants or something. Rarity rolled her eyes and retreated to her bedroom for some much-needed alone time.

The memory of Octavia returned readily as she slowly crawled up onto her bed, her thighs squirming with anticipation. As she fell to her side, Rarity’s hands hooked the hem of her shorts and panties, smoothly pulling them down past her knees, where she could kick them off with ease. Already, the fire in her midsection was raging, begging to be quelled. She let it burn for a few more moments, her thoughts resting solely on the sultry cellist and the intimate curves of her thighs… For a brief second, Rarity’s hand paused low on her bare stomach, thinking over the ramifications of having fantasies about a potential contract…

Then again, she was an imperfect being. Such thoughts were acceptable, right? Right. Re-affirming herself, Rarity plunged her hand between her thighs, assaulting the epicenter of desire automatically. “Oh, goodness…” She breathed. Her fingers slid easily over the tender folds of flesh, thanks to a surprisingly large amount of arousal. As she glanced down the length of her body, she noticed the glistening liquid on her fingers, evidence of her guilty pleasure. Sighing happily, Rarity peeled her tender lips aside and slid one finger into her core. The sensation of finally being penetrated, and of her twitching walls hugging her finger tight, made Rarity shudder and groan. Her toes curled automatically, every muscle in her legs suddenly contracting as she was subject to intense waves of pleasure.

“Aah…” She couldn’t help but let the small gasp escape her lips as her own finger grew more bold. It was joined soon after by it’s cousin, both of them parting her walls in ways that she hadn’t experienced in far, far too long. Rarity was no stranger to sexual encounters, but with the way he previous relationship had ended, she feared to engage in them with anybody else. Ever since she re-located to Canterlot, Rarity’s expeditions into the realm of sex had all been solo sojourns. Sadly, her budget wasn’t able to keep up with the cost of batteries, so she resorted to analog means of satisfaction more often than not.

Now was one of those times. When her fingers had exhausted their usefulness, Rarity pulled open the drawer on her nightstand and fetched a simple, straight dildo. There was no need for lubrication, as her own arousal had taken care of that. She gripped the base and plunged the shaft deep into herself without shame, lifting her hips from the bed as the sudden violation robbed her of muscle coordination. But she needed more. Swirling the tip in a slow circle, Rarity sought her g-spot, and found it in short order. With an expert touch born of close to three years of solo experience, Rarity drove the rounded head of the dildo against that spot again and again.

Her orgasm came soon, flooding her entire midsection with blissful release. She could feel the toy shift about inside of her as the muscles of her womanhood flexed and pulsed around it. The sensation of something moving of what appeared to be it’s own accord within her was not something she took lightly. Rarity flexed her core muscles as hard and often as she could, pulsing the toy back and forth until it was inevitably forced out of her. Sighing happily, Rarity lay with her legs spread and the toy between them, basking in the afterglow of blissful release.

Still, though, the memory of Octavia came to mind. She couldn’t deny herself as a fresh wave of arousal surged forth, spurring her into action once again. This time, her fingers sought her clitoris, rubbing in small circles until she pinpointed that small bundle of skin. It had already swollen with desire, and after peeling aside the miniscule bit of skin covering it, Rarity’s lacquered fingernail could manipulate the tender nub easily. Her legs twitched with each fresh shot of pleasure, making her gasp and moan softly as the second orgasm approached.

Rarity normally wasn’t one for flights of fantasy, preferring the pleasure to be centered in real-life scenarios. Masturbation had lost it’s allure thanks to that, which led to her indulging very little over the past few years… But now, she couldn’t shake the image. She pictured Octavia’s dexterous fingers instead of her own, flicking and rotating her clit just as easily as she manipulated the strings of her cello. Rarity clenched her eyes shut, focusing hard on the picture, panting and gasping as it came readily. She completely forgot that it was herself in that moment, and in her mind’s eye, saw nothing but Octavia. Felt the cellist’s digits plunge deep inside of her, arching against the tender walls to manipulate her G-spot. Octavia was the one who flicked her clitoris back and forth as fast as she possibly could, rendering Rarity a useless lump of flesh, panting and begging for release.

It came soon enough, a firm wave of pleasure that shot straight into her abdomen. It radiated through her chest and up to her temples, robbing her neck and legs of all their strength. Legs splayed in a lewd angle, her head buried into the sheets, Rarity could do nothing but lay there and groan. The pleasure faded away at long last, leaving in it’s wake a throbbing sense of fulfillment that Rarity had missed in her life for far too long. When she finally closed her open mouth and found the strength to move her legs, it was only very clumsily at first. She stumbled on her way to the bathroom, and had to turn back to retrieve the dildo. She washed her hands again, taking her time before moving on to cleaning the toy. Finished with both, she changed into a new pair of panties and shorts, and grabbed her sketch book once more.

She was inspired.

“My, my, Rarity… You’re positively glowing! You must have had a good weekend.” Amethyst was at work early for a Monday morning, smiling over the rim of her cup of coffee. Rarity beamed at her as she let the door close behind her, finally ushering her in out of the chilly late-December air.

“I had an absolutely marvelous weekend, my dear. How about you?”

“Oh, you know… I stayed home. Studied. Went to class. Read this.” Amethyst withdrew a paper from her bag behind the counter and dropped it for Rarity to see. Curiously, Rarity peered at the cover article. Front-page, with bold letters, was a picture of Octavia at the symphony wearing her dress.

”Octavia wows symphony audience with stunning dress, emotional performance!” Rarity flicked the paper open and found the article, reading intently.

Octavia, First Chair cellist for the Canterlot Symphony, gave the performance of her lifetime late Saturday night at the Canterlot Concert Hall, where she performed a solo piece to a sold-out audience. Numerous symphony-goers recounted stories of the moving music that pushed them to tears in one song, and laughs the next.

‘She was so beautiful. So melancholy. Just the sight of her face would make me cry.’ One concert-goer commented outside of the venue, wiping tears off their face with a smile. ‘But then she’d play the next song, and you’ve never seen anyone so blissful in your entire life.’ Similar reports of the moving experience were received from all around as the concert let out. Not a single person seemed saddened or angry, however. Most of them appeared to be happy, while others had a simple look of determination about them.

‘I feel like I can do anything. I felt more inspired than I have in years.’ Canterlot Artist Ponet comments after viewing the performance. ‘I’m dedicating my next painting to the performance I have seen this very evening. I dare say every painting afterwards.’

Every bit as shocking as the performance itself, however, was the dress the cellist wore on stage. ‘It was like watching a light show. The way she would move in time with the music, the jewels would catch the light and throw it all over the concert hall. I’ve never seen anything like it.’ Renowned photographer Photo Finish has already requested an audience with Miss Octavia, and has asked she wear the same dress and pose with her cello. ‘I would kill to find the designer who created it.’ Photo Finish goes on to say, ‘Just from the gems alone, the dress is worth at least four thousand dollars. Possibly more.’

Octavia herself remains unavailable for comment, though her producer has offered to speak on her behalf. ‘Octavia is in a very delicate emotional state right now. After such a performance, an artist many times will feel the need for solitude. She is spending her week in Trottingham with the rest of the symphony in a different studio, and last I heard, she is recording tracks with all of them. Despite her successful solo career, Octavia still remains true to the other members of the symphony. She will not leave her position now, and likely not ever. But she would like to continue solo performances. She says it makes her a more well-rounded musician.’

Sources indicate Octavia is, indeed, spending the week in Trottingham, but will return in time to begin preparations for the ‘Grande Sonora,’ the symphony’s largest performance of the year. The ‘Grande Sonora’ will take place in April of next year. All eyes in Canterlot will be on the headlining cellist, however, with hopes of yet another stunning performance, and another beautiful dress.

“Oh my goodness.” Rarity breathed, setting the paper down. The article was side-lined with multiple photos of Octavia in the dress, one of which happened to catch the brilliant purple flash from one amethyst set in the waistline’s embroidery. Amethyst grinned at her as she tapped the one beneath it.

“That one’s my favorite.” She said softly. “And now I know why you didn’t want anybody to see it… My teacher was at the performance. She said it was the most stunning thing ever, the way Miss Octavia was revealed… She actually cried in front of the entire class.” Amethyst laid a hand on Rarity’s wrist, smiling up at her. “Thank you, Rarity. For keeping a secret.”

“A-anytime, my dear…” Rarity flustered, laying a hand over her fluttering heart. “I… I’m shocked, I just don’t… Know what to say.” Just then, the phone rang. Both of them jumped from shock as Amethyst scrambled to pick up the receiver.

“Crousel Boutique, this is- Oh. Oh, yes. She’s here.” She handed the receiver off to Rarity with a coy smile. “It’s for you.” Carefully, Rarity took the phone and held it to her ear.

“This is Rarity.”

“Rarity. It’s Natalie.” Her heart jumped up into her throat. With a swallow, she fought it back down into her breast. “I have a message from Octavia. Can I drop by the store?”

“O-of course. I’ll be here.”

“Right. I’ll see you in a few.” The line went dead, but Rarity held the phone to her ear still, shaking a little as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

“Rarity? Is everything okay?” Amethyst asked. Rarity started and dropped the phone back in it’s cradle, smiling sheepishly.

“Fine, darling. Just fine. The, uh, producer who helped me with the dress is on her way to the store. I… She says she has a message. From Octavia. I… I may have to leave. Can you…?”

“I can hold the store down. No problem. What are you standing around for? Get ready!” There was a flurry of activity as Rarity and Amethyst bustled about, doing last-minute cleaning and straightening. The sounds of a throaty engine pulling into the parking lot and terminating froze them both. Amethyst gave a nervous cry and dashed for the work room, intent on getting out of sight for the VIP. Rarity stood behind the front counter, trying her hardest to avoid sweating from nervousness. Finally, a heavily-coated figure swept past the front windows and into the store.

“Rarity. So good to see you again.” Natalie’s smile was disarming, and she rushed around the counter to wrap Rarity in a firm hug. “Thank you so much for your contribution. I cannot tell you how much it meant to Octavia.”

“I… Thank you.” Rarity flustered, blushing a little as Natalie pulled away. “I really don’t see what all the fuss is about… It’s just a dress.”

“Just a dress?! Rarity, that was a work of art! That was inspired! I know for a fact I wasn’t the only one left speechless by your work. Thank you. A hundred times over, thank you. Here.” Natalie pulled a thick envelope from her coat, shoving the whole thing into Rarity’s hands. “Payment for the dress, and the note from Octavia. I’m afraid I have to get going, my dear. But I will return! I dare say we’ve found her permanent dress maker.” Natalie rushed in and gave Rarity a kiss on the cheek, leaving with a twirl of her coat. Rarity was speechless, holding the envelope in her hands. At the sound of the bell jingling on the front door, Amethyst poked her head out from the work room.

“Is she gone?” Rarity remained silent, staring dumbfounded at the envelope in her hands. “What’s that?” Amethyst slowly advanced, looking at the thick slip of paper interestedly. “Don’t tell me…”

“Payment. For the dress…” Rarity slowly opened the envelope. A thick, bundled stack of bills tumbled out onto the counter, along with a folded slip of paper.

“That’s… That’s ten thousand dollars.” Amethyst whispered, her eyes wide at the sight. “Rarity, that’s more than we’ve ever made… Ever.” But Rarity wasn’t focused on the money. She opened the slip of paper. The note was small and neatly written.

1445 Hoofington Ln. Top Floor. Noon.

“It’s an address. She wants to meet me. She’s… She’s not in Trottingham.” Rarity looked up at Amethyst. “She’s here in Canterlot.”

1445 Hoofington Lane was without a doubt the largest highrise apartment building in all of Canterlot. Rarity swallowed hard as she approached the lobby desk, staffed with two burly-looking security guards. Hesitantly, she approached them.

“Hello, miss. Can I help you?” One of them smiled at her. They seemed awfully friendly.

“Eer, yes… I was given a note to meet someone here at noon… The top floor?”

“Aah, Miss Rarity, I presume?” Rarity blinked at the two men before nodding. “Go on up. We’ll inform Miss Octavia of your arrival.” The guard gestured to a bank of elevators behind them, and Rarity made her way towards them. She stepped inside and pressed the button for the top floor, listening to the shoddy elevator music on the way up. When the door opened, it was to a small landing, with a very sturdy-looking wooden door. The white tile floor seemed rather sanitary to Rarity, and perhaps slightly tacky. Just as she stepped off of the elevator, though, the wooden door opened.

“Come on in!” Octavia’s familiar voice called to her from out-of-sight, spurring Rarity into action. She followed the sultry accent into the top floor, her eyes widening at the sight. Octavia’s apartment was massive, and likely took up the entire top floor. A stark contrast to the white and dull elevator landing, this room was furnished with rich, dark colors and warm leather upholstery. Rarity always had a passion for interior design, and this room spoke very well to her. There was a warm fire burning in the brick fireplace, casting a healthy glow into the rest of the living room. Next to the fireplace on either side were shelves lined with books of varying titles and genres, and all looked to have been read at some point or another.

“In here.” Octavia’s voice made Rarity spin around, and she noticed one of the doors leading off of the living room was left slightly open. She made her way to it, gently pushing it open. Inside was what had to be Octavia’s private studio. The wide-open floor was well-worn with the passing of feet to and from one point of interest or another. A large grand piano sat in the corner, and along the adjoining wall were all sorts of instruments from violins and flutes to electric guitars and even a drum set. The bank of large windows let in light from the leaden sky and gave a brilliant view of the entire city from the top floor. The opposite wall was lined with all sorts of stereo equipment, from record and CD players, speakers and subwoofers to expensive-looking recording and mixing equipment.

But the thing that caught Rarity’s attention the most was the single chair placed directly in front of her. Opposite that was Octavia, standing with her cello. She was smiling warmly, and gestured to the chair. “Have a seat, Rarity.” Her smile flashed as brilliantly as the gems on her dress. Rarity’s dress. The dress made specifically for her. She pulled her bow from behind her skirt and placed it against the strings. As Rarity sat down, completely stunned, Octavia began to play.

Rarity’s own private concert.