//------------------------------// // Predator // Story: Alienation // by Longtooth //------------------------------// There's something about dressing up that appeals to me. Perhaps its the connotations associated with it. A changing appearance to change the pony you present to the world. A dress and some makeup and you can be an entirely different pony. I don't need to explain how that would be an attractive prospect. It could simply be the feel of it. To have a strange fabric over your coat, moving and rubbing and weighing on you in new ways, making you aware of your body and how it moves in a way that wouldn't get on your own, or with simple saddlebags. It is sensuous in the literal meaning of the term. A fine fabric, a good cut, a quality outfit can be luxurious, and in turn makes you feel worthy of that luxury. And, of course, there is the basest and most primal of motivators: sex and power. To dress up to display yourself to best effect, highlighting beauty and drawing attention to you, it can have a profound affect on you. If you think you look strong and confident and sexy you will feel strong and confident and sexy. And you will be desired, and that conveys a realm of power all its own. To be wanted, no, to be lusted after, it gives you a kind of control that is as intoxicating as any drug. Even farther, to look into a mirror and see a you that is not you, a you that is beautiful and sultry and clearly in control of herself and all around her... to see yourself as desirable can ignite a desire all its own. Twilight Sparkle would have seen none of this. She understood looking good, but it was a matter of abstract aesthetics to her. She didn't feel it. She didn't... couldn't truly experience it. I am glad beyond words that I can. Of course, some things are beyond even my hedonistic impulses, and the place Vinyl was taking me to just happened to hinge on one of those things: leather. Both Twilight and I are united in that we do not understand the appeal behind leather. Well, that's not precisely true, I can appreciate it, enjoy it even. No, what I cannot understand is that any creature would be okay with giving up its skin. I know the economics of it, Twilight even once wrote a paper on the cultural impulses behind the bovine willingness to have their corpses made into tools. Tribal insistence on making a use out of everything that could be used coupled with a very rational dislike of waste, etcetera, etcetera. I still find the thought of somepony curing my hide so another could wear it disturbing. Because this unease is understandably widespread among ponies, you don't usually find us wearing anything made out of leather. Applejack has several items made out of the stuff, I know, but she's lived around cattle her whole life, some of their culture has no doubt influenced her. Twilight has a few leatherbound books, but that is generally for magical reasons. I can't imagine Fluttershy being able to stand the stuff, and I know that Rarity prefers to work with fabrics. Demand for leather among ponies is anemic, so supply is also limited, and prices are high. Fortunately there are a few fetish shops in Canterlot that cater to that particular taste. Vinyl took me to one and we spent two hours trying to pick something out for me. Vinyl herself didn't need anything, she already had the requisite outfit. I spent most of the time trying not to think about the previous creature that would have worn the leather that I was modelling. It wasn't easy, my mind tends to wander when not given something specific to focus on, and Vinyl's opinions of what made me look 'sexay' weren't sufficient to my needs. I won't bore you with the details of that. Suffice it to say that some of the outfits I tried on were insanely indecent, and I learned more about the sexual fetish community than I had ever imagined existed. Educational time. For reference, this was when I found out what a 'salad bar' was. I have rarely been more glad for my dark coloration. I can only imagine how I would have looked with a coat as light as Vinyl's. We settled on a leather and rubber harness that crossed over my torso and hugged over my hips before being strapped down my legs with a series of small belts. It felt extremely strange as I moved, but it didn't hamper me any and it hid my cutie mark completely. Going to the bathroom would be a chore, but I didn't think it was going to become an issue. Over the harness I wore a black leather jacket that had strategically placed steel studs so that it clicked and glittered as I walked without being gaudy. We finished up with more makeup than Twilight had ever worn, outside of an experiment with her mother's makeup that had quickly become disastrous. It was certainly more than I'd even considered wearing. Not what I had imagined it would be either. No trashy lipstick, no overabundant eyeshadow. I'd seen the results of that, or rather, Twilight had in one of Rarity's crazier moments. Instead all the product that Vinyl carefully applied to my face and mane served only to create a subtle, but shocking effect. I didn't look like myself. My mane was cut and slicked back, held in place by magic-infused gel that made it look almost wet as it hung behind my ears and down my neck. The area around my eyes had been darkened, a subtle shading that blended easily at the edges into my natural color, and it made my eyes pop out, appearing far more intense than I had ever seen them in a mirror. The lipstick was dark, but not black, something that gave them definition without screaming for attention. This wasn’t the makeup of some blushing ingenue, this was something else altogether. Something I had never considered. When it was all done and I looked at myself in the mirror, makeup, leather clothing and all, I was astounded by the change. I almost wouldn’t have recognized myself. I looked dangerous. Predatory. I loved it. “Nice,” was all that Vinyl said as she admired her own handiwork. It was enough, there was plenty of meaning put into that one word. “How do you feel?” Truthfully, I had been exhausted. The activities of the night before, the lack of sleep and the long shopping trip all contributed to sapping my reserves of energy. Looking at myself, though? I felt it all come rushing back to me, as if I were ready to run a marathon. The mare who looked back at me from the mirror smiled, and it wasn’t the open, friendly smiles I was so used to. No, this was a smile that showed hunger, that displayed power and confidence. I thought of what Twilight’s friends would say if they could see me now, and settled on what I thought was the most appropriate response: “Awesome.” It was practically torture to wait until we went to the fetish club. I couldn’t go out and do anything, and I was too excited to actually get some rest. I found that reading didn’t hold my attention either, another marked departure from Twilight. So I fell back on introspection. I worried over the questions that drove me again and again. Why I was here, what did it mean to be me, etcetera. Everything I’ve laid out to you before and more besides. I didn’t make any headway in those hours, but they were nonetheless essential to my growth as an individual. When the hour finally came, I felt like I was vibrating in a thousand different directions at once. I was jumping at every little sound, my heart pounding and my magic sparking on the edge of an uncontrolled burst. Vinyl did her best to calm me, but the walk down to the club was still more harrowing than it had any right to be. The club itself didn’t advertise. There was no sign, no music that leaked to the outside, no glaring neon, no bouncer, no line. It was just a door, like any other in a row of houses that were just like every other row of cobbled-together houses in the lower sections of Canterlot. Invitation only, and it just so happened that Vinyl had an invitation with an attached plus-one that she could use. The name of the club on the invitation was ‘The Ranch’, which was just groan-worthy enough that I noticed it even through my agitation. “You gonna be okay?” Vinyl asked. “We don’t have to go in there tonight, you know. You can, I don’t know, check the city records or something? I bet there’s lots of news stories about this stuff you could get info from.” I shook my head, clenching my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. “You said this guy, Shady Deal, he knows what I need.” “Or he’ll know somepony who does,” Vinyl confirmed. “But be careful. If the name wasn’t a tipoff enough this guy isn’t exactly an honest citizen.” “Good,” I said. Then took a deep breath to steel my resolve and entered The Ranch, passing through the short hallway that blocked the full club from being seen by a pony just glancing in from the street. The moment I stepped inside I felt the nervousness fall away. I had committed. I was in this until it was done. Whatever happened from this point on I would handle as it came to me, and move forward no matter what. I stepped inside, I was a predator. The club was dark, in sharp contrast to the previous night’s Rainbow Junction. The music was similar to what I had heard there, though. Pounding bass, shrieking rhythms. I was honestly beginning to enjoy that music, at this point, and I welcomed the sound of it. The subdued lighting created soft shadows that rippled and crept in deceiving depths about the sleek, leather-covered decor. The floor was carpeted, making hoofsteps dull thuds instead of the common clip-clop I’d become so used to in the stone streets of the city. The interior was a converted home, the second story floor removed, but the beams that had held it remaining, only to be anchors for chains and leather straps that draped to the floor. Some were in use, and I got my first view of what went on in a private club like this, where nopony had to worry about the outside world and its laws and norms. I stalked forward, my hips twitching from side to side in a motion that was almost feline. I felt like I was on fire, every part of me aware and tingling and soaking in the atmosphere of The Ranch and its clientele. I weaved between them, passing close enough to brush against a few of the leather-clad ponies who were either bound in compromising positions or were taking full advantage of those that were. The curious and appreciative stares this earned me just heightened the strange state of mind I found myself falling into. No, I wasn’t scandalized. I wasn’t even shocked. I had known, somewhere in the back of my mind, that something like this was what I was going to find. As I’ve said before, Twilight wasn’t a complete innocent, far from it, she just was never interested in actually experiencing any of this. Besides, what was going on there in The Ranch? It was nothing compared to what I had found in the drug den less than twenty-four hours before. This was at least consensual. This was at least… normal. The dominance games and sex play were just that, games and play. What the black crystal addicts had been doing was in no way a game. It had been brutally, deadly serious. I can see what you’re thinking. In the interests of full disclosure, yes, I was titillated by what I saw. Not so much the blatant sex on display as the way they reacted to me, though. Those looks, the desire, the naked, unashamed nature of it all… that’s what turned me on. My sexuality is something I’ve explored significantly, but I think it was already close to fully formed at that point. The Ranch didn’t influence me in any direction, it just showed me what I already liked but hadn’t realized yet. Vinyl caught up to me in a clear space and leaned in so that she didn’t have to shout to be heard. Her own outfit was a jacket of pale leather with a high collar and a wide ‘DJ PON-3’ patch sewn into the back. She had her sunglasses on again, making me wonder exactly how she could see in the dim lighting. “I gotta say hi to the owner,” she said. “See if he wants me to spin a set, price of entry and everything.” I nodded. “And Shady Deal?” “He’s usually up there,” Vinyl gestured with her horn up towards a second-story area that still had its floor, where ponies watched the dominance orgy of the first floor with lascivious grins. “You remember the description?” I nodded again. “You’re sure he’ll speak to me?” “Looking like that?” Vinyl said with a smirk. “Assuming he can pull his tongue back into his head? Damn, girl, he’ll be all over you. You’re gonna have to work to get him to stop talking.” I grinned at the compliment, and we parted ways. I made my way to the stairs, climbing them with careful steps. The second floor was a lounge for those who liked to watch, and the railing was crowded with ponies doing just that. Each one of them had some kind of leather clothing, some that were far more blatantly indecent than even the bound ponies on the first floor. This truly was a place where anything went. I found Shady Deal sitting on a couch, doing something filthy to a mare on each side of him. The two mares were staring at him in a way that told me immediately that something was wrong. He was dressed in a harness similar to my own, but his was designed to emphasize his musculature and draw attention down the lines of his flanks. His gray coat glistened with sweat and his wings twitched with every breath, flicking feathers across the sides of the mares to their coos of delight. When his eyes turned to me, they left contrails of shadow lingering in the air. He was on black crystal. My entrance was subtle, but enticing even so. I felt my power here, my confidence and hunger radiating in a way that the other ponies could sense. Some of them were predators themselves, and they acknowledged me with nods or appreciative looks. Others were here for the thrill of being prey, and they had a hunger in their eyes to match my own. Shady Deal was one of the predators, but the way his gaze latched onto me told me that it was more than simply an acknowledgement of similar natures that made him stare. I swayed my way over to him, maintaining eye contact the entire way. With a flick of his wings he sent the two mares scuttling away from him. I could see them giving me venomous looks in my peripheral vision, but I ignored them. I was focused too strongly on my target, my quarry. I stopped just in front of him, looking down at his sitting form. He leaned back, displaying himself to me. It was a challenge and an invitation all wrapped into one. If I was just a little less tired, or perhaps not so high on my own sexuality, I might have played it differently. More conservative, less… crazy. As it was, I decided the best way to get him talking was to be as direct as possible and play into the scene around us. So I accepted his challenge and invitation both. I climbed on top of him, pressing him back into the couch, letting his hips slide forward on the leather seat until I was practically lying on top of him, holding him in place with the pressure of my thighs. It had to be incredibly uncomfortable for him, especially with his wings splayed out as wide as they could go, but he just grinned up at me. I brought my mouth to his in a ferocious kiss. I’m not sure why I did that, honestly. I would like to say that I was confirming that he was using the same things the addict the night before had been, but I was already sure of that. Maybe it was a bit of the influence the black crystal gave him leaking through my defenses. It’s certainly possible that my judgement had been compromised the moment he had laid eyes on me. I hadn’t yet figured out how to detect and counter their influence. Either way, I kissed him and I tasted the sparking remnants of dark magic coating his mouth and tongue. It wasn’t as strong as it had been with the addicted mare, but still noticeable. We parted lips, breathing heavily. He was hot under me, his muscles straining with insistent energy, but his eyes were cold and calculating as he regarded me. “Who are you?” he asked. “An interested party,” I replied, keeping my voice low and sultry. “And I can see I came to the right pony.” He tilted his head to the side and his wings twitched. “You’ve tasted it,” he said. It wasn’t a question. I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I stayed silent. He grinned, lips stretching to show more teeth than was strictly necessary. “You’ve held the power.” His hooves grabbed my head, forcing it down. I thought he was going to kiss me again, so I let him. Instead he pressed my chin close to my chest and brought his muzzle close to my horn, inhaling deeply. “Oh, yes. You’ve held the power, and more. You’ve made it.” He laughed, letting me go. I raised my head to lock gazes with him again, lifting one eyebrow in question. He brought his wings forward, the long primary feathers brushing distractingly along the sides of my face. A light caress that in other circumstances would have been exciting. “What’s wrong, did the little dark princess lose her nerve?” he asked. “Too afraid to walk that path on your own, you want something to push you along?” “Something like that,” I said, keeping my voice even. I wasn’t following what he was saying, but I didn’t want to give him the impression of weakness. I had a feeling showing any vulnerability to him would end badly for me. “Well, I think I could spare a hit or two,” he said, leering as he ran his eyes down my body and pressed his lower reaches harder into mine. “For the right price.” “Not looking for a hit,” I said. “I’m looking for information.” He laughed. “That costs more.” “I can pay.” He leered again. “I bet you can,” he said, then leaned forward, using his wings as leverage against the back of the couch. I couldn’t do much but pull back as he went forward, but he wrapped a foreleg around my shoulders and drew me close. His other forehoof reached out and grabbed at my rump, pulling me up until I was held off the ground, pinned to his body much as I had pinned him to the couch. A reversal of position, a display of power, and a hot reminder of what he wanted from me. “I bet you can,” he repeated. “But will you?” I didn’t shudder, didn’t struggle or pull away. I was actually enjoying this, the back-and-forth. The threat and counter-threat. The power plays and dominance games. I was walking the edge of promise and disaster, and it felt good. Very good. It was like being drunk, feeling free to express everything, having almost no control on how that expression came out. Caution and planning gone to the wind. “Right here, right now?” I asked, tilting my horn towards the ponies who were now watching us. “Or do you want me all to yourself?” He growled, expression twisting for a moment into a possessive anger so fierce I thought he was going to hit me. Then his face relaxed into a mad grin, a look eerily similar to the one the mare had worn the previous night when she was trying to get me to taking the black crystal myself. A sneer full of arrogance and ill-intent. “Oh, you will be all mine,” he said, quiet and dangerous. I’m actually rather glad he said that. In the state I was in at the time, I have no idea how I would have reacted if he’d chosen the ‘right here, right now’ option. I’d like to think I wouldn’t have gone through with it, but… I can’t say for sure. It was all so new to me still. I was overworked already, exhausted even though I wasn’t feeling it, and he was probably using the magic of the black crystal to heighten the lust I was already feeling even more. It would have been a struggle to say no at that point. I’m not sure if I could have managed it. But he chose the route he did, and so my recklessness provided me an answer to many problems simultaneously. “Then I have just the place,” I whispered into his ear, then wrapped us both in my magic and teleported us. To the roof.