> Five Star Service - A Gentleman for Mares Tale > by Firesight > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Prologue > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines To our combined readership: As part of the continuing cultural and media exchanges between us and our sister publications, over the next several months the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines will be jointly publishing a series of articles by an Equestrian Earth Pony named Five Stars. She has a very controversial profession in a very controversial company called Gentlemen for Mares: a business that rents out male human escorts to Equestrian females. It should be noted right away that the services they provide are sexual ones. We are aware this is a contentious topic on both sides of the portal, if for different reasons, but our mutual staffs feel that is reason enough to explore it. Needless to say, as the topics broached may be uncomfortable or even occasionally explicit, up to and including interspecies sex, parental guidance is strongly advised. The articles will be edited, but at the insistence of Five Stars, not censored of adult content. You have been warned... Greetings to both my human and equine audiences. Before I begin my story, I would like to make a few acknowledgements. First and foremost, I write these articles with the permission and blessing of the founder of Gentlemen for Mares, Platinum Corona. The company and concept she came up with has brought companionship and joy to many a mare, myself foremost among them. She gave me purpose and a wonderful new profession, and I am forever grateful to her for it. I am further honored and humbled by the fact it was she who asked me to write this, feeling that having our story told by a simple but longtime trainer would have more impact and be received more favorably than anything she could say or write. Next, I thank the editors and staff of the Manehattan Post and New York Life Magazines for being willing to publish this story with a minimum of censorship and changes, and on the human side in particular, for providing a pony-friendly ‘tablet’ and showing me how to use its dictation and ‘word processor’ features, thus giving me the means to easily write and edit the articles myself. Human technology never ceases to amaze me—needless to say, these articles would take me forever to write out and edit with a quill in my muzzle! I would also acknowledge my late parents, who did everything possible to provide for me and my siblings and whose devotion to each other set an example I wish more ponies would follow. I love and miss you both. Dad, I know this isn’t what you would have envisioned for me, but know that with the help of Gentlemen for Mares, I will one day resurrect your hotel chain and your dream. Next, I write this for the humans I have known, trained, and work with. It is with the greatest pride I see you go forth and fulfill your roles as Gentlemen, applying the lessons I and other trainers have taught you, giving mares the companionship and male company so many never truly get to experience. It is an honor and a pleasure to train you; to see you grow in confidence and grow into your roles. You endure hatred and occasionally outright hostility for what you do, yet you persevere for the mares that need you… and for yourselves. And finally, I wish to recognize my very first human stallion. I know I cannot name you, but if by chance you read this, the one thing I would tell you is that you saved me as much as you say I saved you. It’s very gratifying to see the stallion—or I should say the man—you have become since then, and to know that I had some small hoof in it. Our time together was brief, but I will never forget you or what you did for me. * * * * * To the ponies reading—many things have been said about me and others who work for Gentlemen for Mares, much of it unfair and untrue. This is the venue I have chosen to address some of the more egregious and insulting things I’ve heard over time. I do this in the hope of explaining why I believe Gentlemen for Mares is needed, and why I do what I do. As such, the first thing I would have other ponies know is that I do not seek forgiveness or absolution for my profession, nor am I trying to justify my ‘lifestyle’ to others as I’ve heard others so derisively refer to it. The short answer is, I do what I do because I find purpose and fulfillment in it, and I seek to share what I found—love, fulfillment, and pleasure—with others, both human and equine. For my human audience, I hope to clear up some misconceptions regarding Gentleman for Mares, and perhaps educate about pony society in general, as I have found there is a great deal of misinformation out there on the other side of the portal as well—something that rather surprises me given the ready availability of information humans have. That being said, I understand only too well the human world works differently than my own—believe me, there are many aspects of human society I’m both envious and appalled of—and that for many humans, there is often an extremely negative stigma attached to the idea of selling sex. For that reason, I am writing this not just for myself and my company, but for the human gentlemen I have taught and worked with, who all too often have faced ostracism or worse from their friends and families for what they have chosen to do. Though I will be seen as representative of Equestrians, I emphasize that my opinions and experiences are my own, and not necessarily shared by my fellow ponies—though I do believe that many mares will sympathize with what I have to say. So all I ask of both my human and equine audiences is that you read with an open mind, and listen to how a previously lost and love-starved mare who had nearly given up on life found fulfillment and fresh purpose… in becoming a trainer for Gentlemen. I am Five Stars, and this is my story. > Part 1: What’s in a name? > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service - What’s in a name? By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines January 26 issues EDITOR’S NOTE: some names, places, and descriptions have been altered to protect the identities of those involved. Five Stars, however, has insisted on using her real name to emphasize that she is neither ashamed of her profession or feels the need to hide it. WARNING: Parts of the article to follow are sexually explicit. At the insistence of Five Stars and the direct request of the president of Gentlemen for Mares, Platinum Corona, it has not been censored of adult content. If this bothers you, do not read on. You have been warned… There is a saying among ponies that ‘names are destiny’. What that means is, the names our parents give us seem to have an uncanny knack for predicting our future talents and fate. Some say it’s due to the Power of Harmony, others that it’s just the simple power of suggestion. But whatever the answer, with a name like Five Stars, I guess I was destined to be part of the Manehattan hospitality industry. I just had no clue what form that was going to take—just how ‘hospitable’ I was going to be one day… or how much I would enjoy that new life over my old one. What is that new life? I am a trainer in Gentlemen for Mares. As for what that entails, when a new human Gentleman is hired (and contrary to the opinions of some, they all sign up willingly), it is up to me and my fellow trainers to provide their ‘orientation’—in my case, to teach them how to properly please and pleasure earth pony mares. We likewise have pegasus and unicorn mare trainers to teach the particulars of those pony races, and I’ve heard Platinum Corona is considering adding trainers for thestrel ponies and zebras as well as interest in G4M spreads. The more the merrier, as far as I’m concerned. And yes, before anyone asks,‘training’ a gentleman does involve actual sex… or ‘rutting’ as we ponies (somewhat crudely) like to refer to it. After all, how else can you teach or learn except to do? That having been said, let me clear up a few things right away. Yes, I am a mare who prefers human males to stallions, for reasons that I will go into later—and ones I believe more than a few mares would sympathize with. No, I am not ‘rejecting’ my own kind, choosing ‘hairless apes’ over ponies—what I’m rejecting is an all-too-common mindset among stallions that they don’t have to reciprocate a mare’s affection. Nor is my interest in human males a mere fetish… unless you consider it fetish to appreciate the simple attention and appreciation that I’ve found human men show that all too often pony stallions do not. * * * * * When some ponies find out I’m a trainer for G4M or otherwise a mare who likes to bed humans, they usually make several assumptions, all insulting and false. Typically, the first thing to be questioned is my appearance—clearly, the only reason I would be interested in humans is because no stallion would give me a second look, right? The only reason I’m so down on herds is because nopony would accept me into one. Well, the fact that I spent the better part of six years in five separate herds says differently. As for my appearance, I don’t think I’m bad-looking by pony or human standards. I certainly wouldn’t call myself a supermodel, and I doubt you’ll ever see me walking the runway at a Photo Finish fashion show, but I’m a trim-enough earth pony, with a tawny coat, curly pine green mane, deep orange eyes at least one stallion called ‘soulful’ and my flanks adorned with a five-star cutie mark that was the insignia of the hotel chain my father founded… which was in turn based on a stellar constellation Princess Luna was said to particularly favor in her night skies. I remember daddy was so delighted when I got it, sure it meant I was destined to succeed him in the family business… but that’s a story for another time. The next thing I’m suspected of is coming from a broken herd with a bad or missing male role model. Sorry to disappoint my neighsayers again, but there was little traumatic or tragic about my foalhood. I grew up in a nice Manehattan apartment—somewhat unusual for Earth Ponies, which tend to favor more rural towns and countryside over the big cities—had parents who loved me, two younger sisters who looked up to me, a big brother that doted on me, an older sister that often picked on me, and an assortment of friends I occasionally got into trouble with. I had childhood crushes, played a mean game of buckball in high school, and very much wanted to follow in my father’s hoofsteps, who had spent the better part of his adult life trying to establish a new hotel chain that would rival the upscale Manehattan franchises. Actually, I take that back. There was one very unusual thing about my upbringing. Namely, that my parents were in a committed relationship that did not involve other mares—what humans would call a normal marriage and what ponies (often dismissively) refer to as a ‘matched pair’. What that means is, they were married to each other and nopony else, a rather unusual—and some would say selfish and wasteful—arrangement in the pony world. Selfish and wasteful, my human readers may ask? Yes, and the reason is very simple: when there are only an average of two stallions born for every seven mares, it would be impossible to sustain our population if we only allowed the monogamous one-to-one relationships I have learned are the norm for most human societies. For that reason, it is perfectly normal—to say nothing of necessary for the very survival of our species—for mated ponies to form ‘herds’ consisting of one stallion and several mares, each of whom will be bred by the stallion. The herd is both our marital and family unit, one that ensures enough foals and stallions are born to keep our population up. It also provides pooled resources for raising families, as all herdmates, stallion and mare alike are expected to contribute to the well-being and upbringing of their shared foals. To be a mare in a herd is to have security and access to a stallion, emotional and financial support for both you and your offspring. Or that’s how it’s supposed to work. Yet somehow, it never seemed to for me. And that brings me to the final assumption: that I was soured on herd life by abusive herdmates or a neglectful stallion. This is, perhaps, closer to the truth than any, but even that fails to grasp the basic point that it wasn’t me, my herdmates, or even my stallions that were the problem. It’s the herd itself. It simply doesn’t work for me. To understand why, you need to know what happened in my previous ones… starting with my first, now just over twelve years ago. The stories I will tell over the next several weeks will be explicit and perhaps occasionally broaching on uncomfortable themes. But to know them is to know why herd life is not for everypony, and in turn why Gentlemen for Mares is needed. * * * * * First Times and First Herds Okay, what’s going on? Was all I could think of as I was flown through the air, trying not to look outside the chariot or lose what was left of my lunch. In truth, my nerves had less to do with any fear of heights or earth pony aversion to flying than just what I was being brought to. I knew the town of my destination, but little more, and the two pegasi up front weren’t talking, just occasionally giving me knowing looks and asking if I was okay. Their concern seemed real enough, so I relaxed a bit and tried to enjoy the previously unknown sight of Equestria from the air as Celestia’s sun slowly set behind us and lights from towns and villages below twinkled on. Sitting in that chariot being carted off to Celestia-knows-where was not by my design. I knew something was up when my work schedule was abruptly cleared one Friday in late June and I’d received an invitation to join ‘my coworkers’ for a night on the town. That in itself made no sense to me—Friday is normally our hotel’s busiest night of the week, particularly when it coincides with the annual Summer Sun Celebration; you don’t just pull half your staff out on a whim—and my suspicions were only heightened and I was asked to come to one of the—I believe the human word is ‘swankiest’—places is town. Even in Manehattan, it’s a rare restaurant that requires formal attire (or *any* attire, for that matter!), but this was one of them. So I dusted off my Grand Galloping Gala best—no, I’ve never actually been to that ritziest of balls, but Manehattan hosts a couple that could rival it—and went outside my apartment to hail a carriage taxi, only to find a pegasus-drawn chariot had already been hired for me, the pegasi stallions attending it dressed in traditional Cloudsdale armor attire and holding up a placard with my name on it. When I told them there had to be some mistake, they assured me there was none; that they had been hired by my hotel manager with instructions to bring me to Neighagra. When I hesitated, not understanding what was going on and reluctant to be borne off by some strange ponies I didn’t know (can’t say I was too keen on the idea of flying, either!) I was given a wax-sealed scroll that bore the seal of our hotel—something we only use for formal invitations to conventions, reunions and the like. Sitting back and unrolling it, I found a horn-written invitation quill-penned in a very elegant cursive script, asking me ‘to do the supreme kindness of honoring Burning Heart and his herd by accompanying these fine gentlecolts to the resort city of Neighagra’. Looking down at the bottom, it bore the hoofmarks of Burning Heart, a stallion I’d been courting for some time, and the three mares of his herd. I don’t mind saying that I stood frozen in place for a moment, a mixture of fear and excitement taking hold of me. I’m assuming my pegasi drivers already knew what this was about, as they both looked like it was the kind of the job they enjoyed doing—spiriting a surprised pony to a very happy occasion. With that, I was ushered inside the chariot, the door was closed, and I was given warming and airsickness potions for the hour-long trip. Despite the latter, my heart dropped into my stomach when we initially took off, quickly clearing the level of the buildings and reaching a cruising altitude of what must have been fifteen hundred feet above the countryside. Although I’ve never been much for flying, being an Earth Pony, my reaction was less due to that than the butterflies fluttering about in my stomach. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have an inkling of what was happening, I was just afraid to believe it—afraid to even think it. Was I about to be invited to join a herd? And of one of the most handsome and accomplished stallion chefs in the very competitive Manehattan restaurant scene? I couldn’t be that lucky… could I? After an hour’s flight that was somehow interminably long yet over before I knew it, arrival found us in front of a very posh and upscale Neighagra restaurant overlooking the rainbow pools of the town’s famous waterfalls, a very prim and proper unicorn stallion in a tuxedo waiting for me, opening the door with his magic and stepping forward to greet me. Helping me outside, he bowed low and kissed my hoof—never been treated like a noblepony before!—and asked me to follow him inside. I did so in a daze, increasingly certain what was happening but scarcely able to accept it out of a completely irrational fear my hopes would only be dashed if I did. We passed through the restaurant and reached its outdoor dining area to find… Burning Heart and his entire herd waiting for me at a very ornately set table, a seat reserved for me opposite him. He was wearing his formal cape and collar over his regular cooking attire, oddly enough, and—what my eyes locked on to instantly—pinned to his collar was the golden flower I had given him weeks earlier. “Five Stars,” he rose to greet me with a low bow of his head. “Won’t you join us?” he asked, motioning with a hoof to the very plush burgundy pillow across from him. I didn’t immediately, staring at the scene before me. “Is this… what I think it is?” I asked, trying hard to still the trembling of my hooves and quavering of my voice. “I very much hope so,” he grinned at me as he sat back down, looking like he was thoroughly enjoying himself and the spectacle he had created for me. “I’ve talked it over with my herd, and we all agree…” My heart leaped into my throat as he pushed across a long sparkling rectangular purple box, tied crosswise with a very intricate orange bow and also adorned with three different-colored roses, the names of which I knew by rote from the months I had spent working in the hotel flower shop—a bright orange ‘Wildfire’, a pure white ‘Polar Star’, and a very rare and expensive indigo ‘Midnight Glory’. I knew what the roses were for. I knew what that box was and what it contained. And unless this was a very cruel joke, there could no longer be any doubt what it all meant. Time seemed to stand still as I stared at it, still barely daring to hope. Part of me was certain I was dreaming and if I so much as touched the box, it would disappear and I’d wake up in my own bed back in my hotel apartment. But touch it I did, holding it down with one shaking hoof while I pulled the bow free with my teeth and carefully set aside the flowers, knowing what they symbolized—their colors matched the respective coats of the three mares sitting opposite me, indicating that the invitation to follow was from all of them as well. Despite my certainty of the contents, I nearly fainted when I finally got the box lid off and saw what was inside—a single bronze-hued feather that matched the coat of the stallion sitting across from me… The same feather that already hung from the manes of the three mares beside him. At that moment, the feather’s owner began speaking again, but so lost in the moment and meaning of the act, I didn’t hear him until he was halfway through what must have been his second or third sentence. “…and I—we—would be honored if you would join my herd, Five Stars,” Burning Heart told me, flaring his large bronze wings to symbolically encompass the three current mares of his herd flanking him on the other side of the table—Autumn Leaf, Snow Lily and Will’O’Wisp—all of whom nodded in agreement, though lost in the moment, I didn’t immediately catch a slightly more reluctant and uncertain look on the face of Autumn Leaf. With those words, my world came to a screeching halt. For a moment, I couldn’t speak or breathe; I was so stunned and happy. I was only twenty-two years old, just a humble concierge and event coordinator at the Shamareaton Manehattan barely starting to climb the hotel hierarchy and yet here I was, already being invited to join a real herd! Not only that, it was the herd of the young but brilliant hotel head chef and his lead mare, the hotel manager, all but guaranteeing my career and advancement… Guaranteeing my future and the future of the foals I would one day bear my new stallion. I had arrived. You’d be so proud of me, daddy… was all I could think as I blinked back tears, planning to dash off and send dragonfire messages to my siblings, wanting them to hear the news… especially my eldest sister, who’d made it her habit growing up to tell me no herd would ever want me, wishing I could see the look on her face when she read the missive. “Th-thank you…” I finally managed, trying to keep myself from crying, knowing it would make my makeup run. “I a-accept. Y-you don’t know w-what this means to me…” “Oh, I think we do,” Snow Lily chuckled, the pale unicorn mare flaring her horn to dab at my wet cheeks with her silk napkin. “This night is for you, Five Stars… from all of us,” she told me, her eyes flickering to Autumn Leaf as if in reminder for a moment. “Welcome to our herd,” she reiterated, offering her hoof across the table, Will’O’Wisp quickly joining her—it was a rare herd that had a cat-eyed, bat-winged thestrel pony in it, and a rare non-thestrel stallion who would accept one. His kindness, generosity and utter lack of personal prejudice was one of several reasons why I’d fallen hard for Burning Heart, head chef my hotel’s rooftop restaurant and a stallion I’d been all but drooling over ever since I’d started my employment there. How surreal it all seemed at that moment as I reached across to touch my hoof to theirs, Snow Lily symbolically wrapping a bronze ribbon around our joined forelegs with her magic. It had taken me weeks before I could even talk to Burning Heart—those who know me now might be surprised to learn I had serious confidence and self-esteem issues back then—and many months more before I finally got up the nerve to court him. By Celestia’s sun, you have no idea how nervous I was when I finally got him alone and presented him with the traditional token of a mare’s interest—a golden flower that matched my coat; the same one he wore now. A token that was now returned to me threefold in the form of the multicolored roses before me, matching the coats of the mares I was now joined with—orange for Autumn Leaf, pure white for Snow Lily, and indigo for Will’O’Wisp. I proudly donned them all, pinning them to my dress—okay, Snow Lily had to magically help me with that; my hooves were shaking so badly. She also helped me fasten the feather to my mane, giving me an affectionate kiss on the forehead when she was done, further indicating her acceptance of me. Around us, hooves from the hotel staff and simple onlookers at other tables stomped and clopped their hooves together in appreciation as my new herdmates gathered around me for a prearranged picture. The camera flashed, preserving the moment for posterity… A moment I wished I could hold on to forever. * * * * * The evening could scarcely have been more wonderful. Even outside of the unexpected trip and proposal, I enjoyed an expensive and utterly scrumptious dinner personally prepared by my new stallion, which was swiftly followed by a communal—and extremely decadent—dessert from the restaurant’s resident chocolatier. At meal’s end, his other mares took their leave, saying they’d just ‘be in the way’ and clearing out so we could have some ‘quality time’ and ‘get to know each other properly’, among other teasing asides I heard from my new herdmates; I blushed hard when Will’O’Wisp whispered a suggestion for what he liked in my ear. To say the suggestion was a little kinky would be an understatement. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that; things were happening so quickly! I thought—with some trepidation—that we were going to go back to his hotel room right then and there, but instead he took me on a ground carriage ride to watch the moonrise, the Mare in the Moon watching over us as she appeared over the waterfalls, gently illuminating the rainbow pools below. I remembered an old pony’s tale about the Mare in the Moon being the lost Princess Luna, and found myself praying to her that this night—this moment—would never end. A little ironic, given it was that very night she returned as Nightmare Moon to try to bring about exactly that, but no matter. Throughout it all, Burning Heart attended me like a perfect gentlecolt, seeing to my every need and whim. He made me feel like a princess, and I loved it. Seeing how nervous I was, he made no move to pressure or hurry me, even going so far as to tell me that we didn’t have to do anything that night if I wasn’t ready to. Just the thought that he would leave the decision up to me warmed my heart—far too many stallions expect mares to put out for them to stick around; thankfully Burning Heart wasn’t one of them. And so we stayed out there for an hour or more, just talking, sipping on some very expensive brandy until the evening chill drove us—well, me; being a pegasi and naturally resistant to weather, Burning Heart wasn’t affected by the cold—inside. It was only shortly thereafter I found myself in a posh hotel room specifically reserved for us, a large and plush bed as the centerpiece, an ice bucket containing a very old and expensive vintage of cider sitting at its one side and a large bowl of treats, including sweets and flowers behind it. The bed faced a very large bay window that opened into a balcony overlooking the moonlit pools, a cool night breeze blowing in, ruffling the sheer curtains and contrasting deliciously with the warm fire in the hearth off to the side. It was a clearly a room designed for a single purpose, and I have to say… it was working. Between Burning Heart’s doting and the room’s design, I was starting to get very hot and bothered, and it wasn’t just because of the flames in the fireplace. But being turned on didn’t mean being confident. By Luna, I was trying so hard to hide my nervousness as he gently undressed me with tooth and wing—have to say, it’s a very odd and ironic feeling to be nervous about being naked when you usually are anyway!—all the while telling me how beautiful and desirable I was and how much I was going to enjoy this night. With both my anxiety and arousal levels now through the roof, he sat beside me and gave me a reassuring smile as he picked up my trembling hoof in his own. “Your first time?” he asked gently, laying beside me and putting a bronze-feathered wing over my back in a very intimate and comforting gesture. I could only nod nervously, licking my lips repeatedly—I can’t tell you how excited and terrified I was at that moment. What if he didn’t like me? What if I didn’t perform well? I mean, I had fooled around with some stallions—and one or two mares; enough to know I really didn’t swing that way—at school, but had never actually been mounted, save for a mare wearing a strap-on ‘cooler’ once or twice during my heats (and no, before any human readers ask, that doesn’t count… no matter how much those tools advertise ‘realistic texture sensation’. My furry flank they are…) Sad to say, but mares have been kicked out of herds for being a bad rut (as I would learn myself in due time), not that I thought he was that shallow or venal. But knowing he wasn’t didn’t assuage my still-irrational fears or performance anxiety. “It’s okay. We’ll take it slow and easy,” he said, delivering little nibbles up and down my long, bared neck, sending thrills down my spine. “And you tell me if I’m hurting you or doing something you don’t like,” he told me gently between love bites, reaching around with his hoof to turn my face towards him, making me meet his gaze. “This is your night, Five Stars, and I want to give you the best first time possible.” Oh, Celestia. I all but crooned at that, feeling like I was going to swoon right then and there. In fact, the entire evening had been something straight out of a romance novel—a good one!—making a mare feel special like this. “T-take me,” was all I could think to ask, moving in front of him and flagging my tail, displaying myself, letting him see my want and need… just how wet and desperate he had made me. “Make me yours,” I all but begged him, the moist lips of my marehood involuntarily winking at him. “Well, now… who am I to turn down such an urgent and heartfelt request from such a lovely lady?” he suggested huskily, a touch of amusement in his voice. “But first… I have another gift for you,” he said suggestively, and I tensed as I heard him step closer, having no idea what else he could give me aside from his stallionhood at that point. I closed my eyes and held my breath as I waited for him to mount me, but to my surprise, I didn’t sense him rearing up or feel his weight on my back. Instead, I felt hot breath wash over my nethers, a nose probing at my slit. My already-glazed eyes snapped open, going wide at the realization of what he was about to do. B-but stallions don’t… well, as his practiced tongue only too quickly proved, this stallion did, and I was in utter ecstasy from it—the only other time I had been orally serviced was an experimental encounter with a filly I knew back in school, and she hadn’t even come close to getting me off. It took him less than thirty seconds. I screamed his name, called to Celestia (I’ve often wondered who she would call to in the throes of pleasure? Or does she even have sex? I rather hope she does…) before collapsing into a quivering puddle of pleasure on the floor. He didn’t leave it there, though; his muzzle and tongue continuing to work me as I lay before him, even giving my swollen and tingling teats some attention as I rolled over on my back and spread my hind legs for him, exulting in what I could only describe as the most worshipful lovemaking imaginable—the kind of thing you always fantasize about as a filly, read in a romance novel or simply stare at the stallion of your desires daydreaming about. Well, if this was a dream I never wanted to wake up! After he got me off for the third time, I lay there floating thinking that if I died right then and there, I’d die a happy mare. A gentle nuzzle to my neck brought me back to reality. “You liked that, I see…” he grinned, standing over me and making a show of licking his muzzle, his large stallionhood fully erect beneath his body and laying rather lewdly against my belly. In answer, I reached up with a hoof and pulled him down to kiss him hungrily, delighting in the rather taboo taste of my own juices on his lips—at that point, I believed that oral sex was something only other mares did; it was (and still is) *extremely* rare to find a stallion who would service a mare like that. I couldn’t believe my luck in finding one that not only did, but did it so well! “That was just the appetizer. Is madam ready for her entree?” he asked between kisses like he was serving up a five-course meal. My only response was to moan lustfully and roll back over on my belly to present myself again, scarcely able to imagine what could top what he’d already done for me… To borrow a human phrase… the answer, of course, was topping me. “Ah… an excellent choice…” he chuckled as moved to straddle me, wings flared. I thought my knees would buckle for a moment as he moved to mount me, but not from his weight—being an earth pony, I could support him easily even if he wasn’t quite light for his size. No, it was the several little things all adding up—his belly on my back, his hot breath against my ears, the head of his organ being poised and starting to press against my wet and willing entrance. It was what it all promised me; words cannot describe how ready I was for it—how badly I wanted him inside me. He didn’t keep me waiting long as at long last, the moment I’d been waiting for half my life arrived. My breath caught as I felt him slowly push into me, taking his time to make sure I would get used to his size. There was a brief moment of pain as he pushed into me, quickly subsumed under a wave of pleasure as the previously unfamiliar sensations of a stallion shaft filling my marehood coursed through me. And it was incredible! I could feel every inch of his hardness moving inside me, every vein and texture of his organ, feel the strength and weight of his body, smell the musk of his stallion self. All of it was perfect. All of it was wonderful. All of it seemed designed to call to me, pleasure me… heighten my senses and my awareness to levels I didn’t even know were attainable. And yet my entire world was reduced to him and me; all I could feel was his body against my own, his stallion shaft now moving quickly and easily inside of me, pumping in and out with powerful, practiced strokes… I couldn’t believe it—being mounted with a cooler was nothing like this! As his thrusts got progressively more powerful, it amazed me how he could be so light and yet so strong at the same time. His lightness was a function of being a hollow-boned pegasus, I would later realize, and the fact that he was flaring his wings for balance, using their downstrokes for additional thrust. To this day, I’ve never seen another pegasus, stallion or mare able to control their wings in the throes of arousal like that; they’re usually uselessly stiff—as well as exquisitely sensitive—in the middle of rutting. But needless to say… such observations were beyond me at that point, so lost as I was in the magic of my first mating. I pushed back against him with as much urgency as he thrust forward, trying to get more of him inside me. I wasn’t in heat, but I may as well have been at that point, so hungry I was for his stallionhood and seed. And I hasten to add, it wasn’t just the simple fact he was mating me, his good looks, or even that it was my first time. No, it was everything taken as a whole—the dinner, the unexpected proposal, the royal treatment, all leading to a night of lovemaking I’d only dreamt of… It was beautiful, it was wonderful… it was, well, Five Star Service, to drop my own name. I can’t emphasize enough that he wasn’t just rutting me—he was making love to me! Worshiping me, pleasuring me, doing everything in his power to make me feel special and desirable. And like a true gentlecolt, he didn’t let himself climax until I had again—twice more!—before finally delivering his seed inside me, calling my name and biting down hard on the back of my neck as he did so. My world flashed white as I felt my new stallion empty himself inside me, rocked by yet another orgasm that this time was less from the sensation of him inside me as the simple fact that by doing so, he was at long last claiming me for his herd. I screamed his name and milked him for everything he was worth, wanting every single drop of his seed inside me before I collapsed to the ground again, an entire evening of buildup and anticipation leading to this one perfect moment. I was barely aware of anything except the afterglow as he lay down beside me and spooned me, his wing and foreleg draped over me; his organ still inside my immensely satisfied marehood as I drifted off to very blissful and sated sleep. * * * * * The rest of the night was anything but anticlimactic. We woke up hourly to make love anew; he later told me that he’d been saving up for me and even taken a magical performance booster prepared for him by Snow Lily to make certain he could satisfy me. And satisfy me he did. Fully and repeatedly. Later that night, I repaid him in kind for his earlier ‘present’, taking Will-O-Wisp’s suggestion of, well… taking him in my muzzle. Again, that’s not something a self-respecting mare was supposed to do, but after all he’d done for me… how could I not return the favor? Don’t mind saying… I rather enjoyed it, too, just as much he did. Bit of a mess on my face and chest afterwards, but somehow… being marked in such a manner contributed rather than detracted from the enjoyment of the act. I woke up late the following morning with Celestia’s sunlight streaming in and Burning Heart snuggling me from behind, his warm body providing a perfect contrast to the cool morning air that flowed in the open window. We would later learn—over lunch—of Nightmare Moon’s return and defeat at the hooves of the Elements of Harmony, and that the night actually had lasted several hours longer than usual during her short reign, In truth, I was almost grateful to the reborn moon princess—by extending the night, she had given us a several more rounds of fun. But at that moment… I had no idea any of it had happened, and even if I did I could have cared less. As far as I was concerned, with a new herd and my stallion at my side, his feather in my mane and wing draped over me, all was right with the world. It’s been nearly twelve years since that night, which remains vivid in my memory now even as it seemed to pass in a blur for me back then. As I look back on that long-ago day, I remember two things: how wonderful it all was… and how rare it turned out to be. And therein lies the irony: that my first stallion—and my first time with him—spoiled me for all others. Even as I lay there basking in his company and afterglow, I didn’t yet realize that such nights weren’t going to be the norm; that encounters like these were going to be far more the exception than the rule. Oh, I understood on an intellectual level that I’d be sharing him with the other mares of his herd, but I thought as long as I had just a few of these nights with him a month… I’d be just fine with that. Ah, how naïve you were, Five Stars… but that’s a subject for my next article. So having told the story of my first time in my first herd, if I could describe the purpose of Gentlemen for Mares in one sentence, it would be this: to make a mare feel as I did that one glorious night—a very special somepony, the center of a stallion’s world… treated, feted, and ultimately sated by the attention and efforts of a doting and devoted, experienced lover. For it was something that happened all too rarely, I was going to learn the hard way, even when you already belonged to a herd. > Part 2: Discordant Harmony > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service - Discordant Harmony By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines February 9 issues New York Life Editor’s Note: following the joint publication of the initial article, our two magazines have received a great deal of mail and comments over the past two weeks, many supportive of our decision to publish these articles but some decidedly not, accusing us of everything of ‘promoting interspecies indecency’ to corrupting the minds of our youth. After due consideration and discussion among our mutual staffs, we have decided that the articles will continue in their uncensored form. These articles are designed to be thought-provoking and inspire debate, and thus far they have clearly succeeded in that goal. We understand we will likely lose subscriptions over this, and that is the reader’s choice. We remind all who may find these article offensive that you have the choice to not read it, or bring it into your home. For our human readers, the article is marked adult and if accessed on the internet will be blocked by any competent parental control filter software. For our pony ones, the solution is simple: don’t buy it if you don’t want to read it, and stop complaining if others do. There’s a human saying I’ve heard once or twice that “Two’s company, three’s a crowd.” Ponies have a similar maxim when it comes to dealing with herds. We say ‘three’s comfy, four’s too cramped.’ Over the next year and a half I would learn the truth of that, as with my addition, Burning Heart’s herd now numbered four mares. In hindsight, the warning signs were there from the start. The night I was invited to join the herd, Autumn Leaf barely touched her dinner, her smiles forced and her words of welcome clipped; she was the last to extend a hoof to me when Burning Heart presented me with his feather. Then when I moved into my new herd’s hotel suite the following week—living at the hotel was far easier and cheaper than trying to keep our own home given the high Manehattan cost of living—I was given my own room, which I later found out had been Autumn Leaf’s office and study. And she was none too happy about giving it up for me. On the other hoof, Snow Lily was certainly happy to have me—she was a hotel masseuse and we got along quite well. Will’o’Wisp, or “Willow” as I’ll call her, welcomed me warmly as well, though I wasn’t as well-acquainted with her. In her case, being a thestrel, she was somewhat more reclusive and reluctant to be seen in public outside of her occupation… rather ironic given that she was a singer and dancer of some repute, performing at our hotel’s nightly shows. In fairness, being a thestrel meant she was subject to a great deal of bias and suspicion even before Nightmare Moon’s short-lived resurrection. With their slightly predatory and (some would say) sinister appearance, including darker coats, bat wings, pointed fangs and cat-like eyes that could see in the dark, there were many ponies who believed (and sadly, still do) that thestrels were ‘servants of the night’; harbingers of evil that could not be trusted. It shames me to say such sentiments only got worse after that night, with many believing (without any evidence at all) that the ‘bad bat ponies’ had aided and abetted Nightmare Moon’s return. There were many nights poor Willow came home crying either from the abuse she’d taken at work or just watching ponies avoid her; she was particularly bothered by mares seeing her and shielding their foals from her, as if they were afraid she would spirit them away or suck their blood as certain popular books and films had suggested… You know, for a society that’s supposed to be all about harmony and above such petty prejudice, I’m sorry to say we ponies can be as susceptible to it as anyone else. Remind me to go on a rant about the stigma of being a ‘colt-cuddler’ or ‘misborn’ another time. A Herd in Harmony This is a herd at its best: when one member is having difficulty, whether mare or stallion, the others step up in support. And so we all did. It began with Autumn Leaf, who as hotel manager rearranged her best entertainer’s schedule to give her some time off and made sure hotel security was around her at all times. Next came Burning Heart, who spent more time with a wounded Willow, trying to reassure her that she was still part of the herd and he wouldn’t let her go. When he wasn’t available, Snow Lily and I kept our thestrel herdmate company as much as possible, letting her cry on our shoulders, and we all made a show of treating her nicely when going out with her in public, trying to make it clear to all that she was part of our herd and if you disrespected her, you were disrespecting all of us. Given Burning Heart’s status as head chef and the fact that his lead mare was the hotel manager, it even worked… at least within the confines of the hotel. That brings me to my next point. In theory, all mares in a herd are equal and the stallion gives each equal attention and love. In practice, that’s not the case at all—there is a hierarchy within herds that has to be respected, though it’s more pronounced in some than others. Most stallions tend to have favorites, and most herds have what is informally called a ‘lead mare’, which has authority over the other mares and gets the bulk of a stallion’s attention. We had a particularly bossy one in Autumn Leaf, as I quickly found out she had a tendency to run roughshod over the rest of us to get her way. The upshot is that as the newest mare, I was entering at the bottom of the herd hierarchy, meaning that despite the impression that first night had left me with, I would basically get whatever attention and affection was left over after he’d gotten to the others. In fairness to Burning Heart, it’s a lot to ask any stallion to service and keep happy a herd of four mares, particularly when we’re all trying to juggle competing work schedules. The problem was that those work schedules were arranged by our hotel manager lead mare, who I was slowly coming to realize didn’t want me in the herd. She seemed to consider me a threat somehow, even though I had no interest in usurping her as long as I got my share of Burning Heart’s attention. It was becoming apparent over time she was doing her best to deny me that, however, trying to schedule my shifts so that my time off didn’t coincide with Burning Heart’s. Not wanting to rock the boat or disturb the herd I was so happy to belong to so early on, I kept quiet and accepted it, hoping she would come to trust me and allow me more access to him over time. It was somewhat better for the others. Snow Lily was the second mare, for lack of a better term, on at least half-decent terms with Autumn Leaf and that meant she got him for a night about once or twice a week or so; and Willow—once the shock of Nightmare Moon’s return had worn off and ponies weren’t quite so suspicious of her—about once every other week. Great for them, but where did that leave me? Mare-on-Mare Relationships Female-to-female relationships are somewhat rare in human society, I’ve gathered from working with Gentlemen, and tend to be a source of much titillation among human males. I guess that’s a luxury you have when your race has equal gender ratios. But in Equestria, with the female-to-male ratio running at worse than three to one, they’re a given and even expected, both within the herd and outside of it. There simply aren’t enough stallions to go around, so mares, particularly those without a herd, make do. That’s fine if you’re a mare who’s into other mares, like Snow Lily or especially Willow were, but not so good for mares like me, who almost exclusively want stallions. In the confines of a herd, mares are expected to take care of each other as well as their herd stallions. Fortunately, for as jealous and unapproachable as Autumn Leaf was, Willow and Snow Lily were friendly and outgoing, good herdmates as well as good coworkers, as devoted to each other as they were to Burning Heart. They slept with each other when they weren’t sleeping with him, which made things easier for them. To be fair, they invited me to join their nightly intimacy sessions and once in a while, if I was feeling particularly randy and wanted company… I would. I didn’t think I’d enjoy it that much at first, remembering how little my two previous attempts at mare-on-mare action in school did for me, but I quickly learned the difference that experience and familiarity makes. To my great surprise, they could get me off, sometimes spectacularly, and I’ll even admit there were times I really enjoyed being double-teamed by those two. Snow Lily’s masseuse magic could be easily turned to something a bit more… sensual, while Willow… well, she could use those fangs and tongue of hers to great effect; it’s an undeniable thrill for an herbivore to feel sharp teeth nibbling against your neck or nethers. (And to think it was she who suggested pleasuring Burning Heart orally… I don’t think there are many males who would willingly stick their stallionhood into a fanged muzzle!) Looking back, I don’t think my enjoyment of their efforts was so much the physical act as just the intimacy of it—that they genuinely liked me and their affection showed. And therein lay a very good lesson that I would eventually pass on to my gentlemen trainees—that it’s not the act of rutting so much as the affection and emotion attached to it. That’s the difference between cheap, quickly forgotten sex and an encounter to remember. I reciprocated their affections, even got pretty good at giving oral myself, knowing what my unicorn and thestrel herdmates liked. Still… for me, it just wasn’t the same as being with a stallion—as being with Burning Heart. I knew what I was; I knew what I liked, and that I ultimately wouldn’t be happy just being with mares. Increasingly, that was all I was getting, though. As the months wore on and I found myself going three, four, even five weeks between ruttings, I was starting to get moody. And even when I did have Burning Heart, it was generally only for an hour or two, not all night. I simply wasn’t getting to spend that quality time with him I so craved after that first night at the hotel. Don’t get me wrong—what we did was certainly enjoyable, and he tried his hardest to please me, but ultimately he just left me only wanting even more—I was being serviced without being satisfied. When I asked for more, Burning Heart wanted to oblige me, but Autumn Leaf said no, claiming that I was just trying to monopolize him and that the ‘herd and hotel hierarchy’ must be respected. Never mind the fact that she was the one spending just about every night and all her free time with him… * * * * * You know… it’s funny, really. For as much as we were coming to dislike each other, in many ways Autumn Leaf and I were very much alike. We were both Earth Ponies, both city girls, She wasn’t into mares any more than I was (or actually even less—she wouldn’t spend ANY time with Willow or Snow Lily), and she was also jealous when Burning Heart was with the others. But regardless of Autumn’s abuse of her lead mare position, the strain of his expanded herd was starting to tell on Burning Heart; he was having to take various potions to have enough energy for work and his mares. I’ve heard our gentlemen refer to our booster potions as ‘Magical Viagra’, which I’m told is a drug taken by human males to fulfill the same purpose. I don’t know about Viagra, but the side effects of booster overuse are legion, and now nearly eight months after I had joined the herd, Burning Heart was starting to show signs of them—fatigue, sleeplessness, and… well, the human term for the condition is ‘priapism’, and as much as some stallions like to let it all hang out, it was starting to embarrass him and cause problems at work. Increasingly, he just wasn’t the stallion he was that first night and his ruttings became… less passionate. More perfunctory. We all suggested he take some time off and perhaps arrange a vacation, but he kept making excuses, claiming he either couldn’t leave the restaurant until the tourist season was over (which it never really was in Manehattan) or that he was fine and we shouldn’t worry ourselves. Despite such assurances, more and more nights he came home exhausted and in need of rest. Yet somehow, Autumn leaf was always there to take care of him and insisted on doing it herself, claiming our ‘unreasonable demands’ were just adding to his stress... Yet somehow, her ‘taking care of him’ always seemed to end with her screaming his name. It was becoming abundantly clear to all of us that Autumn was trying to keep our herd stallion to herself. Willow and Snow Lily were content enough with each other and seemed to think that Burning Heart would eventually deal with his overbearing lead mare sooner or later. But as things got worse and worse and ALL our time with Burning Heart got progressively more limited, I finally decided to confront Autumn Leaf over what she’d been doing… On the day Discord returned. A Herd in Disharmony It had been a rough night shift at the concierge desk, and things were only getting worse as the morning wore on. Some of it was the usual Friday night stuff like dealing with a drunken ass (I mean that literally—he was an Ass) and difficult room service requests, but much of it was decidedly not—we were having reports of strange occurrences and malfunctions, everything from a showerhead that spouted lemonade to a hot tub that had somehow iced over—and as my shift progressed, I was in an increasingly foul mood; a far cry from my usual easygoing self. It wasn’t just me, either—ponies had been acting increasingly odd, even out-of-character as the night had gone on. Two of our restaurant regulars, a unicorn mare couple that were usually very nice and hopelessly in love with each other, ended up arguing and getting into a fight over a stallion; their magic duel had destroyed half the bar’s tables and temporarily turned the bartender into a cactus. Then as dawn broke, I noticed some pink clouds outside that guests said were raining chocolate milk. Figuring it was some prank or publicity stunt pulled by the Manehattan weather patrol, I gave it little mind. It only went downhill from there. Ever more bizarre occurrences happened as the morning wore on, yet none of it mattered to me or even so much as struck me as strange. Fish from the aquarium swam through the air of the lobby around me, but I didn’t care. A pair of foal twins came by to check out while pushing their pacifier-sucking parents around in a stroller, but I didn’t blink. Nor did I bat an eye when an earth pony member of the maintenance staff that was long rumored to be a colt-cuddler showed me that his contract had been changed to allow him to tuck whatever staff mare he wanted. So I dutifully moved my tail aside for him, letting him repeatedly rut me while I continued to assist guests, barely aware of his weight or the presence of his organ inside me, taking my marehood and muzzle in turn. I reacted to these occurrences as if… well, they were not so much normal as simply unimportant. Even as said stallion came one last time in my muzzle and then moved on to the mares at the front desk, all I could think of was Autumn Leaf—that she was working me into the ground deliberately, and I had bucking well had enough! Leaving my post at the concierge, I swallowed his seed (it tasted oddly like vanilla cream), licking my muzzle clean and putting my uniform vest back to rights—standards of appearance had to be maintained, after all—and trotted over to the nearby flower shop, which seemed strangely overgrown with vines and tendrils coming out of the floral arrangements. Stepping over a couple that seemed to slither after me, I asked a slightly prudish and conservatively attired florist friend named Morning Glow if she could hold down the fort until I got back. Somewhat breathlessly, she assured me she could from where she was being dangled upside-down and undressed by the vines, several wrapping around her as she spoke and beginning to move rhythmically against her, one finding and plugging her muzzle. Ignoring her muffled cries of pleasure as I crossed the lobby to the elevators, I found two rival stallion sports stars whom I knew hated each other openly rutting in the atrium while nopony paid them any mind; I just stepped over them myself… In hindsight, an omen. I arrived at the elevators only to find that they were letting ponies in one lift and then instead of taking them to their chosen floor, discharging them from the next elevator over. Making a mental note to tell the maintenance staff stallion after he had finished mating all the mares at the front desk (I glanced back to see he was slowly working his way down the line of them), I decided it would probably be faster to take the stairs. Opening the door, I found the stairs had turned into a slide, but that was fine with me—I simply stepped into the stairwell and slid on my hooves, letting gravity pull me up to the fifth floor. As I passed a few other ponies along the way, including an earth pony family flying by flapping their ears and tail, I noted they seemed to have paler coats than normal. Yes, the entire world was going mad around me as Discord’s corrupting influence spread, and a slight change in fur color was all I noticed. My focus was entirely on Autumn Leaf at this point, and by Celestia and Luna, I would not be denied her. Reaching my floor, I stalked down to our suite, moving aside briefly to allow a long-limbed herd of rabbits to pass, getting around a pond of fruit punch taking up half the corridor by walking on the wall, hoping my hoofprints wouldn’t be too noticeable. Finally arriving at my destination, I found the door to our suite now on the floor (or was I walking on the wall again? I forget…) so I opened it with a kick and jumped through to find gravity reversed; everypony and on furniture now on the ceiling and nopony acting as if anything was wrong… except for the fact that I was there. Autumn looked surprised to see me as I entered and hopped down to the ceiling. “What are YOU doing here? You’re not off shift until noon, remember?” she reminded me, her orange coat two shades lighter than usual. I glared at her, trying not to be distracted by her strangely alluring flanks, their pale colors somehow drawing my attention to them. “I left Morning Glow in charge; there’s nopony at the flower shop this time of day anyway.” The corners of Autumn’s muzzle crooked up as she turned to face me. “Dereliction of duty is a firing offense, Five Stars,” she said mildly. “Kiss my flank, Autumn!” I snorted, a blush entering my cheeks as I had to fight off a strangely compelling image of her doing just that, laying her lips on each star of my cutie mark in turn… “So is violating labor laws, but that never stopped you!” I retorted as I approached her, hearing the ceiling tiles crunch underhoof. “You’ve had me working sixty hour weeks for a month! Never mind the long hours you’re keeping with him,” I briefly turned my glare on a surprised Burning Heart, who was cooking lunch for everypony. “I’m a part of this herd but you refuse to treat me like it!” “Five Stars, please…” Willow tried to intervene, putting a wing over me; it dimly registered that instead of her usual bat-wings, they looked more like that of a moth and she had two feathery antennae on her head. “I know you’re angry, but this isn’t…” I shook her off and I put my hoof down as the corn on the cob Burning Heart was roasting suddenly exploded into popcorn and began to fill the kitchen. “She’s damned right I’m angry, Autumn. It isn’t fair that he gets you and I don’t!” I exclaimed. Wait, WHAT? I blinked. That definitely wasn’t what I meant to say, yet somehow it didn’t seem wrong to me… Though surprised as my words registered, Autumn Leaf got in my face, peering over her glasses to give me her most intimidating stare. “You don’t know your place, Five Stars!” “Oh really? And where’s that? Under you?” I suggested with a sneer, not understanding why the thought of being under her was making me feel so giddy. “Where do you get off running our lives? What gives YOU the right to decide how things go in this herd?” I asked her, suddenly aware of… how very beautiful she was. Her long neck… her amber eyes... her beautiful orange coat (though it seemed to be fading to an even paler color as I watched)… her leaf-and-ledger cutie mark… such luscious earth pony lips… “Get off?” she repeated, her eyes going unfocused as if she was thinking of an entirely different meaning of the phrase. She hesitated before she spoke again like something was distracting her; as I watched her eyes flickered all over me, as if appraising me. But whatever she was thinking, she tore her eyes away and gave me a very sly grin. “The same right that lets me decide when you work, what time you get with Burning Heart, and even your continued employment at the Shemareaton,” she said sweetly. “I’m both your manager and your lead mare. And I can’t say I’m too inclined to continue your employment when you show such disrespectful attitude to your superiors…” she turned away disdainfully yet suggestively flagged her tail at me, displaying her wet and dripping marehood as if in offering. My own wasn’t doing much better at that point; it was all I could do not to blush at the thoughts going through my head as I stared fixedly at Autumn’s swollen slit bare inches from my nose, my muzzle starting to water. I shook my head to clear it, trying to focus back to the matter at hoof. “I’m sorry. You get Burning Heart every other night, I get him maybe every other month. HOW IS THAT FAIR?” I demanded to know, but then I wondered… so what if I didn’t get him? Why was I so upset about that? I mean, I wasn’t interested in him so much as… She threw me a contemptuous look over her shoulder, her tail flicking my nose, distracting me from the mesmerizing sight of her winking marehood. “You can be with Willow and Snow Lily as much as you like,” she suggested, turning back to face me, her cheeks flushed and licking her lips repeatedly. “But I don’t want them, I want…” I protested, my voice trailing off as day turned to night… and back to day again. “I want…” I tried again, but some part of me wouldn’t let me say the word that was trying to leave my lips. “Girls, please…” Snow Lily tried to separate us with her magic, but all that happened was that flowers burst out of her strangely limp horn like a magician’s trick wand. I barely heard her, now aware of little else but Autumn Leaf. As I spoke, I was starting to feel very warm. “I want…” I could hold it back no longer. “You…” I told her in a husky whisper, watching her eyes widen as she realized the feeling was only too mutual. Time seemed to stand still as we continued to stare at each other, despite the sun rising and setting several more times. Loathing gave way fully to longing. Detestment to desire. With that, we leaned in closer, closer… And then we began to kiss. Our supposedly-reformed god of chaos has a very twisted sense of humor and irony. Me and Autumn hated one another and weren’t into other mares, so in our corrupted forms… we loved mares and wanted nothing except each other. As our coat colors turned almost completely pale, our shallow kissing soon turned into more passionate, quickly moving on to making out and then graduating to full-blown oral sex. In under a minute we had torn off each other's uniforms and were doing the swirl (or what humans refer to as a ‘69’) on the floor rug… which was now lying on the ceiling, alternately working on each other’s teats (hers gave hot chocolate while mine gave eggnog???), marehood, and cutie mark. We stayed that way for several minutes and orgasms before shifting positions to press our nethers together, getting off that way a few times. Then in another role-reversal, I went on top of her, grinding my slit into her muzzle while she lapped at me hungrily, dripping wet and frantically pleasuring herself with a hoof. The entire world was going mad as Discord’s influence reached its peak, and it was no different in our suite, where Burning Heart was ignoring us, uncooking dinner in our upside-down kitchen using the fire coming out of the icebox, Willow was flying around a ceiling-chandelier-turned-floor lamp like a moth, and the normally outgoing and mare-friendly Snow Lily was watching the heated mare-on-mare action before her with a bored and sullen expression, her limp horn draped over her face. And me and Autumn…? We ate each other out with abandon as the chocolate milk fountained out of our suite’s magical fire suppression system like a lawn sprinkler. Her marehood was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted, her tongue in my own twat (to borrow another human term) the most incredible sensation I’d ever known. We came over and over and we couldn’t stop, each orgasm only leaving us hungry for more while the rest of Equestria went insane around us. Stallions? Who needed them? The others? What did they matter? We had each other. We were meant for each other. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew what was happening; that none of this was right or real. Somewhere deep inside I was still myself. But that true me was so deeply buried I didn’t care, my entire world now limited to Autumn Leaf… her scent… her taste… the feel of her teeth and tongue pleasuring me, driving me to ever-higher heights of ecstasy. All I could think was that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with my muzzle buried in that delicious slit… and hers in mine; the mere thought of it giving me my biggest climax yet. Then abruptly… it stopped. That must have been the moment that the Elements of Harmony turned Discord back to stone, because suddenly everything returned to normal. Our coat colors reverted to their usual vibrant hues as gravity in our apartment went right-side up again and the furniture fell back into place with a loud crash. The sprinklers shut off; the icebox was cold and the stove was hot again. All was as it was, except for the kitchen half-buried in popcorn and the fact that we were all now covered in chocolate milk… And Autumn and I in each other’s love juices, still staring each other’s femininity in the face. As reason returned, we disentangled awkwardly and staggered back from each other, utterly aghast, slipping repeatedly on the milk-slickened floor. Lily and Willow could barely contain their laughter as the scene finally registered; even Burning Heart was blushing at the sight of Autumn and I intimately intertwined, his stallionhood fully erect… though I didn’t know if it was from watching us or just the ongoing side effects from the booster. With that, we both ran for the bathroom. Autumn got there first and claimed the toilet, throwing up violently and I was right behind her, taking the tub instead, barely able to stand as I realized what we’d just done… the mere idea of it causing me to empty my stomach over and over again. It was several minutes before either of us could speak. “I-I’ll give you a raise, l-lay off your schedule and let you have Burning Heart once a week if you swear… t-to never tell anypony about this…” she told me in a weak voice, still huddled over the toilet having dry heaves. I was doing little better from where I was slumped over the bathtub. “D-deal,” I eagerly agreed as I rinsed out my muzzle with the last trickle of chocolate milk from the shower, certain I would never, ever get the taste of her out of my mouth. * * * * * I kept up my end of the bargain. So did Autumn Leaf… for a month or so before she began to renege, but at least I got a few more decent nights with Burning Heart out of it. Even if she hadn’t, though… the writing was on the wall. We couldn’t even look each other in the eye after that; it was painful and awkward for us just to be in the same room (to be fair, we weren’t the only ones—scenes like that had played out all over the hotel; that maintenance stallion fled town before any of the staff mares could find him). The difference was… as hotel manager she could do something about it, and I soon noticed that she wasn’t just fixing my work schedule so I wouldn’t have time off that coincided with Burning Heart. No, she was now actively trying to make my work situation intolerable, giving me odd hours, difficult shifts, unpaid overtime, and shall we say… some less-than-stellar personal reviews to the hotel higher-ups, trying to force me to leave without actually firing me. I tried to tough it out for a while, not wanting to give up on my first herd and a stallion I still wanted to be with, but in the end it was simply too much. It wasn’t the work situation that that ultimately drove me away, though. It was that in the end, I decided that I simply couldn’t exist as an also-mare, competing for the few scraps of Burning Heart’s affection in a four-mare herd that Autumn Leaf would allow me. There was also the fact that the situation between us was causing additional stress and tension within the herd, and the last thing I wanted to do was give Autumn an excuse to break everypony up and claim Burning Heart solely for herself. No, I knew I was the bottom mare and the odd pony out in this arrangement. And as much as I didn’t want to give Autumn the satisfaction of seeing me go, it was only fair that as the last in, I would be the first one out. Thus, not long before Hearth’s Warming Eve, three months after Discord’s return and almost eighteen months to the day after joining the herd… I made my decision to leave it. I tearfully returned Burning Heart’s feather, tendered my resignation from the Shemareaton, packed my few things, cashed out my bits from the bank and boarded a train to leave Manehattan that very night, wanting to get as far away from the pain of a failed herd as possible. As I left the apartment suite for the last time, Burning Heart somewhat awkwardly hugged me and gave me his regrets, admitting that perhaps he hadn’t done enough for me. I replied somewhat snippily that the problem was that regrets were all I was getting from him and point-blank told him to start standing up to Autumn Leaf and stop letting her run roughshod over his herd. He didn’t reply, but I did catch a bit of a guilty look in his eyes. I didn’t see Autumn Leaf, nor did I wish to… but I did make sure to post a memo to the entire hotel staff explaining in lurid detail what had happened between us the day Discord returned. Just wish I could have seen her face when she found out… Willow and Snow Lily saw me off that icy evening. Tears were shed and hugs and well-wishes exchanged; we promised to keep in touch. As the train departed the station and my first herd receded from view, I finally broke down completely. I’m not too proud to say I cried myself to sleep. Discord’s intervention aside, the story I just told is not an unusual one. It has happened to many mares over the years, and in many herds. Despite how we’re taught that herds are a tool of harmony and the proper pony way of family, herds can be decidedly discordant at times… with or without a god of chaos influencing things. With so many individual ponies within them, there are ultimately and inevitably clashing egos and personalities, personal differences that simply can’t be reconciled, and all too often it just takes one possessive or selfish pony, usually the herd stallion or lead mare, to make it intolerable for the others. And yet for all that, my first herd still could have worked, if Burning Heart had been just a little more assertive or Autumn Leaf a little less… perhaps bitchy is the human word appropriate here. But it was not to be. I later learned that Burning Heart’s herd broke up entirely over Autumn Leaf’s tyranny; I was just the first to go. Snow Lily and Willow left next but stayed together, I’m happy to say; we kept our promise to stay in touch and have corresponded regularly over the years. As thestrels have slowly gained acceptance (mostly thanks to the growing popularity of Princess Luna), the pair eventually joined another herd and are happy; as I write this I know Snow Lily is expecting her second foal and Willow just had her first. Needless to say, congratulations to both of you. That’s certainly proof a herd can work, but is by no means proof it always does or is right for everypony. For far too many it simply doesn’t; for far too many a herd provides neither support nor satisfaction, sexual or otherwise. Not that I was going to stop trying at that point, thinking if I could just apply the lessons I’d learned going forward, my next herd was sure to be better. As for Burning Heart… I lost touch with him; never heard from or saw him again after that night. I’d like to think he did eventually come to his senses and cast off Autumn Leaf, but regardless, I bare him no ill will—for all his mistakes and unintentional neglect, he remains to this day my favorite male out of all my herds. He genuinely wanted to be a good stallion and do right by his mares; he was also one of only two stallions I’ve ever known who took real pride in being able to give his mares pleasure. I can only hope he learned from that debacle… as I did. But even as my thoughts were sad and brooding that snowy night, I turned my sights ahead. I had a three-day journey ahead of me. My destination was a resort city on the other side of the continent, a place I hoped to make a fresh start… A desert oasis of glitter and decadence known only as Las Pegasus. > Part 3: Viva Las Pegasus! > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service - Viva Las Pegasus! By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines February 23 issues Greetings to readers on both sides of the portal. I am Platinum Corona, founder and president of Gentlemen for Mares. I’d like to commend Five Stars for a very well-written and engrossing set of articles so far. She is very much correct in that the stories of failed herd life she tells are ones that have happened to far too many a mare. Gentlemen for Mares was founded with them in mind: as Five Stars says, our ultimate objective is to make every mare feel as SHE did her first night with Burning Heart—a very special somepony, one worthy of the warmth and worship they too often do not get within the confines of a herd. That said, I wish to correct the record on one minor point. The purpose of Gentlemen for Mares is NOT, as was stated in the introductory article, to provide ‘male escorts’ or ‘sexual services’ for mares. It is to provide COMPANIONSHIP. Though the nights typically end in intimacy, the actual rutting is… I wouldn’t say incidental to that, but rather, the culmination of an entire evening of attention and affection, thus making it all the more meaningful for the mares—and gentlemen—involved. As Five Stars said herself, that’s the difference between a cheap and quickly-forgotten rut and an intense round of lovemaking… The difference between a shallow physical encounter and a night filled with passion and ecstasy a mare will remember all her life. I’m sure the same holds true for humans as well. Though I would not be so presumptuous to say that every encounter goes well and all our customers are uniformly satisfied, I would note that we have many repeat clients and both they and our Gentlemen often form favorites among each other. More than once have we seen actual relationships blossom between man and mare; more than once has a Gentleman left the company to be with the mare they came to love and appreciate the most. Though I am always sorry to see them go, it warms my heart to know that a mare will now be satisfied for all her life. I can think of no greater a happy ending than that. With that, I turn it back over to one of my original hires, now a long-time trainer of Gentlemen. Carry on, Five Stars! I’m eager to read more… —Platinum Corona, Founder & President, Gentlemen for Mares Thank you, Platinum Corona. I couldn’t have said it any better. I offer both my gratitude for your kind words and my sincere apologies for not spotting that myself. That the job of a Gentleman is to provide not simply sex but companionship is a lesson that I and my fellow trainers drum into every trainee that passes through our doors and beds—that it’s not the encounter that’s important, it’s everything that precedes it. And this segues nicely into the lessons my next herd would teach. But first… there’s another story to tell. One that has nothing to do with Gentlemen for Mares, yet everything to do with its mission. Another common theme I so often hear from the neighsayers is that hiring a gentleman amounts to little more than scratching an itch—filling a fleeting physical need as opposed to a deeper emotional one that only a herd or herd stallion could provide. I grant it is a valid question: how can a single night with a stallion—human or pony—you’ve never even met before be anything but cheap and tawdry sex? How can a mare possibly get satisfaction from a single night out, or companionship from a partner you don’t even know? This is my answer. A Fresh Start That first night leaving Manehattan was a very rough one for me. It had been only a few hours since departure, but I already found myself sorely missing my bed, friends, and the familiar surroundings of the Shemareaton. As I lay sleepless, huddled on an uncomfortable train couch under a thin and rather scratchy blanket, I wondered if I was making a huge mistake. My first herd having ended in failure, I questioned everything—my looks, my actions, my personal worthiness as a mare and pony. I wondered it if it was somehow my fault what had happened; what I could have done differently. Should I have confronted Autumn Leaf sooner? Or perhaps later? Should I have simply bypassed her and gone to Burning Heart, even at the cost of my job? Could I have gotten Willow and Snow Lily to assist me, form a united front? Maybe then it would have been Autumn leaving and not me? I never did find a satisfactory answer to those questions, but one thing my mom told me a long time ago was that there was no point in dwelling on what could have been or paths not taken. That to do so was to be forever trapped in the past and not see the future that could still be; that all you could do was take your lumps, learn your lessons and move on from it, try to do better next time. Thus, I set my sights ahead, watching as the forests gave way to plains, then mountains, and finally desert—for anypony who hasn’t taken a cross-country train trip like that, I highly recommend it; there’s really no better way to see Equestria. Three days later, following stops in Neighagra (it was painful for me to see the town again, given the last time I’d been there it was to join the herd I’d just left), Canterlot (and I thought Manehattan was upscale!), Ponyville (a quaint little town), and Appleloosa (I thought those old frontier-type places only existed in oaters!), my destination literally materialized out of a canyon pass, a glittering jewel on the nighttime desert plain. It was all I could do not to gawk too obviously as I stepped off the train and looked around at my new home. * * * * * How can a pony describe Las Pegasus? If I had to choose a word… it would be otherworldly. Being a native of Manehattan, I thought I was no stranger to glitz or glamor. I quickly learned how wrong I was when I exited the train station and walked down the bright boulevard called simply “The Street”, wandering around in a daze and wondering where in the name of Celestia I was going to start. As I walked up-Street, I beheld large entertainment complexes done in very ornate architecture, each in its own theme or motif. Names of high-end casino resorts I’d only read about or seen in photographs passed by me, all lit up with magical displays, occasionally alternating with upscale shopping malls and nightclubs of various repute. The Andalusian Bay. The pyramid-shaped Deluxor. The Manehattan, done to look like the skyline of its namesake city (having just come from there, I wasn’t sure if I appreciated that or not) and across the street, the film-themed Grande. And they seemed to go on forever; further upstreet I could see the distinct architecture of other such big names as the Buffalagio, The Palisades, The Mystique, the Dragon’s Hoard, the Palamino, and at the very end of The Street far off in the distance… the tall spire of the Strotosphere. It wasn’t just the buildings, either. There were costumed ponies and performers, both musical and magical on every block. Billboard-wearing burros that passed out flyers for various… services… on every corner. A magical water fountain show set to music took place in front of one hotel at the top of every hour; a mock volcano that erupted with multicolored flames and fireworks in front of another. Countless signs and billboards advertising magic and stage shows, many of a decidedly… risqué nature. Pegasi and griffins streaking overhead pulling banners advertising aerial tours of the city and the nearby Great Gorge and Hoofer Dam for the non-flying. Gilded chariots strolling the streets carrying billboards that guaranteed buff stallions with impossibly tight flanks and suspiciously large organs brought to your door in thirty minutes or less. And the place wasn’t just for ponies, either—zebras, griffins, buffalo, and even some younger dragons were wandering about and mingling freely. Accordingly, the restaurants had every form of food imaginable, including meat for griffins and gemstones for dragons. And of course, that was to say nothing of the endless gambling halls, casinos containing everything from poker tables to roulette wheels, dice games and the ‘one-legged bandits’ known as slot machines… It’s a city designed to part you from your hard-earned bits willingly, and to make sure you have the time of your life losing them. As awestruck and overwhelmed I was, I had to forcibly remind myself I wasn’t there on vacation. I had to find lodging and a job quickly, and I wasn’t about to tempt fate by putting a few bits down on a 21 table (one of the few games I knew how to play). The prices of The Street hotels way too much for my meager budget, I found a cheap but seedy-looking off-Street motel frequented by slightly disreputable-looking stallions who, I guessed, basically hawked themselves to lonely mares for money to pay for their gambling debts or various addictions. A couple even approached me, but I wasn’t that desperate… and they backed off when they learned that despite my Manehattan airs and upscale-looking cutie mark, I didn’t have much money. Needless to say… it was definitely a step or six down from the comfortable environs of the Shemareaton. But as I settled in to my cheap room, laying back on an old mattress and curling up under a moth-eaten blanket—it was at least better than the couch on the train—I promised myself it would not be my permanent home. * * * * * The next morning really drove home where I was. I walked outside and, instead of being surrounded by tall buildings and a typically cold December morning of Manehattan, I was greeted by mild desert air, very dry and dusty. The city was flat but ringed by very stark desert mountains, their layers of strata very visible and striking. The sky was crystal clear, not a cloud to be seen… though the weather plan was apparently to have pegasi weather teams start bringing in some cooler weather and snow for Hearth’s Warming Eve, now just three weeks away. Part of the reason I chose to head for Las Pegasus was timing. I knew I’d be coming in at the height of the holiday season, when a lot of extra workers would be needed. I’d hoped it would make it easy for me to quickly find a job, wondering if there was any way I could break into the big-name Street hotels and if my previous experience as a concierge and event coordinator at the Shemareaton Manehattan would be good for anything here. Lacking references, it really wasn’t. I had left in such a hurry I had neglected to get letters of recommendation, and without them, I couldn’t get anywhere. I also really didn’t have an answer for the inevitable, awkward question of ‘why did you leave?’ Somehow, explaining that my situation had become intolerable after I had ended up eating out my hotel manager lead mare under Discord’s influence didn’t seem like an acceptable explanation… Realizing that I only had enough bits for a month’s stay and that I couldn’t afford to be choosy, I took the first job offered me as a simple server at The Mystique, a large triple-winged hotel located in the center of The Street… wearing provocative uniforms and tight-fitting leg stockings, fetching drinks for various guests, occasionally getting leered at or hit on by other mares (and one time by a griffin eagless??? How does that even work with their beaks?) I can’t say I enjoyed it, but I understood I was starting at the bottom. So I swallowed my pride and flirted back with them, occasionally flagging my tail hoping to make more than my usual meager tips. To be sure, I quickly learned that some servers were willing to go further than just flirting hoping to score some extra bits, but… that was simply not something I was willing to do. I was nopony’s comfort horse, and I looked down my nose at those who were… Needless to say, time and experience would change my attitude. In fact, much sooner than I would ever imagine. A Holiday Alone It was Hearth’s Warming Eve, less than three weeks after I arrived in Las Pegasus. The casino and hotels on The Street were starting to empty out in advance of that most sacred and special of days, when ponies celebrate the Birth of Harmony, the founding of Equestria and unification of the three pony tribes. Lacking anypony to be with, I volunteered to work over the holiday for extra pay. Even if ponies weren’t playing, the griffins, zebras, buffalo and dragons would still be, and I figured I might be able to work the more expensive dice and card tables in the absence of the regular servers. I’m sorry to say it really didn’t work—the more bits patrons had, the stingier they seemed to be with them. The dragons in particular were almost impossible to get tips out of, acting like their chip stacks were their own little hoard. It was late that night and I was about to go off-duty and head back to my motel to spend what I expected to be a very lonely holiday when I noticed a single and rather forlorn-looking light blue unicorn mare at the bar, several empty shotglasses in front of her. When I asked her if she’d like another, all she did was nod sadly, not looking up. So as I brought her the last drink of my shift, I declined her tip and instead tried to strike up a conversation, thinking perhaps she’d appreciate a friendly ear. In truth, I needed one too, being rather depressed myself at that point. My last Hearth’s warming had been with my herd; the ones before that with my family, who were all on the east coast of Equestria. To that point I still hadn’t told them I’d left my herd—I knew most of them would be sympathetic and be willing to offer help, but I was particularly dreading my older sister’s reaction, knowing she’d probably mock me for it. Nope, no love lost there… It also didn’t help that I was coming into heat. Introduction to Estrus For my human readers, pony mares come into heat, or estrus, every two or three months once we reach a certain level of physical maturity, usually in the late teens. Your first heat is seen as something of a rite of passage, marking the onset of adulthood and fertility. It’s a very heady but not always pleasant time when they occur; particularly when you don’t have the outlets a herd and herd stallion can provide. As a rule you’re very distracted and moody… and finding yourself flirting with those you normally wouldn’t for the week or so they last. In fact, Estrus, to borrow a phrase I’ve heard Gentlemen use, can be a royal fucking bitch (no offense to Diamond Dogs; I mean that phrase in the human context!) You’re desperately horny and all but craving male company… yet you can’t have it without risking getting pregnant, which is a big no-no outside a herd—I’ll discuss the ugly stigma of being ‘misborn’ another time. Contraception is available, by potion and various enchantments, but in the heat of the moment you might forget them—trust me, it happens—and it blocks the thing that mares psychologically need most during heat: male seed. It’s the wonderful way harmony or simple nature ensures that we’re more likely to get pregnant and propagate the species. Mares deal with heats in various ways. The primary means to mitigate one short of an actual rutting is a ‘cooler’, which is basically a toy in the shape of a male phallus that spurts a seed-like substance at the opportune time and temperature. It can fool the body—to a point—into thinking it’s just been mated, and that takes the edge off the heat. It ‘cools’ you off, hence the name, at least until next ‘phase’ comes along, usually less than half a day later. A cooler can either be worn by another mare to simulate mounting... or manually operated with your hooves or horn. I don’t think I need to explain further what the latter entails, but my cooler was one of the few things I took me with from Manehattan, knowing I was due for my next estrus before too long. The timing was especially bad, though, as having an unserviceable heat over a lonely holiday would just make my depression and loneliness even worse. It was just going to be me with my cooler in my motel room at night, I thought; there was no way in Tartarus I was going to one of the stallions that trolled the street corners near my motel looking for lonely mares. Not only could I end up getting pregnant that way, I could end up being robbed as well, at which point I’d be out on the street with them. No thank you. Anyway, even before I sat down with this blue mare, I knew something wasn’t right. She wasn’t playing or paying any attention to what was happening around her; it looked to me like she was just trying to drown her sorrows in expensive cocktails (which was itself odd—if she was playing they’d be free!) My shift over, I sat down beside her as I brought her one last drink and asked her what was wrong. She was somewhat leery of me at first; probably thinking I just wanted her bits like the other servers. But being in the hospitality industry as long as I had, I knew how to put ponies at ease. I simply turned on my ‘concierge charm’ as Willow had once referred to it, friendly and helpful, speaking in a cosmopolitan accent and air that made clear I was no simple server. Or at least, I hadn’t always been. About a half-hour and two drinks later, she finally opened up. She explained she’d just lost her herd, kicked out by her stallion because she ‘wasn’t a good lay’. “And I don’t even know what I did wrong,” she sniffled. “I did everything he asked… even when I didn’t want to. Is it my looks? Am I not smart enough? Is my rump too bony? Am I not a good provider? Not good enough at magic? What?” she asked both me and the universe at large. My heart went out to her as I looked her over, thinking that her story sounded only too familiar… wondering if there was anything I could say or do to restore her crushed spirit and lost confidence. For the record, there’s no worse way you can hurt a mare than to tell her she’s not good enough for her herd or stallion. I didn’t understand it, though. She wasn’t bad-looking by my lights; a light blue unicorn mare with a two-tone mane and tail somewhat reminiscent of certain toothpaste brands. She also seemed smart enough; she was certainly well-spoken even with the alcohol in her system. I wasn’t sure what to make of her cutie mark, but she said she was a dentist—appropriate, I guess—and explained she’d come to Las Pegasus to try and clear her head. “Figured I’d come here and try to forget. But I can’t,” she admitted; my eyes went wide when she told me where her home was—needless to say, she’d come a VERY long way. “Especially not now,” she sniffed as she motioned to the Hearth’s Warming decorations that surrounded us, a reminder to us both that we were all alone during what was supposed to be a time of friends and family. Lest there be any doubt, a herd is a family, and when you leave one, voluntarily or not, you’re in essence leaving a family behind. It’s rarely an easy thing to do, and no matter how many times I did it, it never got any easier for me. “I’m sorry,” I told her, and meant it. I guess we were both in need of some company, as we stayed with each other into the wee hours of the morning, just sitting at that bar talking… commiserating. She asked for my story, wanting to know how an obviously upscale earth pony mare like myself had ended up being a simple server in Las Pegasus, so I gave it (sans the Discord part of the tale). She was appalled and said she couldn’t imagine having a lead mare like Autumn Leaf, wondering aloud why Burning Heart let her get away with it. You and me both, sister. You and me both. For my part, as I listened to her I realized what I’d had in Burning Heart—for whatever faults he had, he would never just discard any of his mares like that—and wondered anew if I’d made a mistake in leaving him, worried that even if I did find another herd, that could be the kind of male I ended up with if I wasn’t careful. As the clock struck 3 am on Hearth’s Warming Eve, I noticed her eyes drooping, and mine weren’t doing much better—the extra shifts were starting to get to me. Yawning, she asked me where I was staying. When I told her it was an off-street motel, she shook her head and offered her room to me. “Least I can do for letting me unload is give you a comfortable bed,” she told me. “It’s a single, but the bed’s a Prince-size, and it’s got plenty of room.” I hesitated briefly, worried what my heat might have me do—I’d felt my first ‘phase’ starting to come on, and had planned to relieve it with my cooler when I got home. But my reservations melted away with the realization that I really didn’t want to be alone or go back to my ratty motel room; the three weeks since I’d left Manehattan had reminded me of not only how much I missed male company, but that of Willow and Snow Lily—even when we didn’t do anything (and we hadn’t since what happened with me and Autumn) there was something to be said for just sharing a bed with one or both of them, snuggled together. “Sure. And thanks,” I told her. “Be nice to have a comfortable mattress and company for a change.” So I followed her back to the elevators. As we boarded, the big buffalo security guard gave me a smirk—I was still in my provocative server’s outfit, and she clearly thought I was planning to service this mare. I gave her a dirty look back to say no, that was NOT was this was about; her only response was a broader grin and wink as the door closed. You know, I really hate it when others turn out to be right like that… What happens in Las Pegasus… When we arrived at her sixth-floor hotel room, I was impressed at what I saw—for all the time I’d been working at the Mystique, I’d never actually been inside one. My eyes quickly cataloged its features: Upscale décor that would only the more expensive suites of the Shemareaton would match. A luxurious bathroom and bed complimented by a well-appointed bookshelf and desk. A fully-stocked icebox and a large window with a decent view of the now snow-covered Street… Heck, my room at the Shemareaton should have been so nice. I stripped out of my uniform—those leggings look good, but I was always glad to get them off—freshened up using some of the complimentary hotel toiletries, thanked my new friend for her hospitality and settled in one side of that wonderfully plush bed. And yet, despite how warm and comfortable it was… I couldn’t sleep. To my great chagrin, my heat was kicking in hard at that point—I’d hoped it’d at least hold off until morning; I found myself suddenly wishing I had my cooler. To my great surprise, my desires begin turning towards the warm body lying next to me; several times I had to stop myself from reaching from the mare I’d just met, wondering if I could surreptitiously relieve my tension with my hoof… at least enough to sleep. Needless to say I was shocked at where my thoughts were going; half-wondering if I was under Discord’s influence again (was my coat turning pale? Couldn’t tell in the dark!) What had happened that fateful day had so turned me off on other mares I couldn’t even sleep with Snow Lily or Willow any longer for fear of flashbacks. In fact there were times I could barely even look at another mare after what had happened with Autumn Leaf; the thought of what we did under the chaos god’s influence still made my stomach turn. Yet now… as I lay beside this equally lonely and lovelorn unicorn… the idea seemed anything but disgusting. And apparently, I wasn’t the only one to think so. “Five Stars?” I heard her voice call out. I flinched and my breath caught. “Y-yes?” “Your breathing is labored and you’re not sleeping. Are you… okay?” she asked in concern. “It’s n-nothing…” I told her, forcing myself to turn away, lest her sight and proximity tempt me further. I am NOT into mares! I am NOT servicing a customer! I told myself over and over, increasingly unconvincingly. It was several seconds before she spoke again. “Um… you’re in heat, aren’t you?” she asked, thought it was more statement than question. It was several seconds more before I could answer. “Yes,” I confirmed in a low voice. “I, um… don’t suppose you have a cooler I could use…?” I asked, embarrassed, glad she couldn’t see my cheeks flushing. “I’d be happy to clean or replace it afterwards,” I hastened to add, knowing that some mares were very particular about sharing them. “I do, and you’re welcome to it,” she said to my relief, which was very short-lived. “Um… Five Stars?” she began again after a brief hesitation, causing me to tense as I sensed the question coming. Not for it being asked, but for how I would answer. “I know we only just met, but… would you like me to… t-to help you?” My already-warm cheeks went bright crimson. “I’m… n-not really into mares…” I swallowed, licking my lips and feeling my already-hot nethers start to moisten further, winking involuntarily under the sheets. I’m not! I insisted to myself again, but my body wasn’t listening, begging for relief… craving the touch and comfort of another pony, and not particularly caring about their gender. My new friend gave a nervous chuckle. “Um… n-neither am I, normally…” she admitted with a tremor in her voice. “But I like you and… I’m w-willing to help a friend in need,” she offered tentatively, reaching over to touch me with a hoof. My breath caught at that, fire blossoming along my neck where she was slowly brushing through curly green mane. “Please…” she told me again, more huskily, shifting closer and moving to wrap her foreleg around my chest, beginning to pull me closer. I made no effort to stop her as she began to nibble at the base of my twitching ears. “Let me do this for you. It’s the least I can offer to repay your kindness…” she beseeched me as I heard her horn flare, feeling the first wispy feathers of her magic’s caress beneath the sheet. I gave a low, foal-like whinny as I sensed her aura creeping lower along my belly, a moving blue glow beneath the blanket that soon found my swollen and tingling teats. “You don’t… have to…” was all I managed as she began to magically squeeze and massage them, only to have my voice catch when I realized… between my heat, my loneliness, and the hurt I still bore… I very desperately needed her to. “I… I want to…” she told me in a husky, almost pleading voice, the blue glow of her aura illuminating the room around us. “I couldn’t satisfy my stallion. So… let me at least try and satisfy you,” she said, her magical efforts intensifying, the warmth of her aura now probing around—and just barely into—my marehood, quickly finding and focusing on my clit. I gasped at that, amazed at her skill and magical touch as she quickly brought me near climax, using just the right motion and amount of pressure. I tried to hold it off. I really did. It was a weird mix of both wanting to make it last and not wanting to have my first time since my lost herd belong to a mare. But it had been too long, my heat too intense, the stimulation too perfect… and my need far too great. Her efforts against my pleasure button finally paid off as I cried out gently, biting down on the blanket, my entire body tensing, then trembling with the release. “Better?” she asked me as I collapsed back against her, squeezing me tight with her forehooves and kissing me between the ears, momentarily withdrawing her magic. “Better,” I answered a little breathlessly, still panting softly. “Thank you. Really. I’m fine now…” I lied, my appetite only whetted for more… she had briefly taken the edge off, but I knew it was but a temporary respite. For I was still missing the thing I needed most… Fortunately, my new friend was more perceptive than that, stifling a giggle and suddenly sounding more sure of herself than she had before. “You know, Five Stars… I have patients back home, both foals and full-grown ponies who insist they don’t have toothaches or need dental help when it’s pretty clear they do. And you’re acting the same way they do,” she said, a tut-tut note in her voice. “So I’ll tell you the same thing I tell them when they’re reluctant to get a cavity fixed or a tooth replaced… just relax and trust me to take care of you,” she insisted, gently pulling me over on my back while her horn lit up again; I could hear a fumbling sound coming from her travel bags in the corner as her aura searched for something. “I promise to be gentle, and I promise you’ll be happy for it,” she assured me as her magic pulled something free of her luggage, bringing it over to the bed. It was long and rather suggestively shaped, a slightly curved foot-long shaft with a flared head and medial ridge, a reservoir visible inside its translucent surface that glowed invitingly with the same blue of her aura… Her cooler. One of the nicer models, in fact. And all I could do was stare dumbly at it for a moment, still in disbelief that this was actually happening—that I was going to let a mare—a customer!—service me. It was unprofessional, it was wrong, it was the antitheses of everything I’d been brought up to be; everything I thought I was as a pony and a mare… … and at that moment, none of it mattered to me. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t think, all I could do was kick off the blanket and spread my hind legs, panting and digging into my marehood with my hoof while waiting impatiently for her to charge it, watching as she put a small vial of powder and a measured amount of water into the cooler's chamber. She shook it in her aura to mix it, and then magically heated it until it was just the right temperature and consistency, cuddling me while running it along the length of my slit to get me ready again… hearing me moan and gasp repeatedly as she teased my entrance with it… Teasing me with the promise of pleasure and satisfaction to come. She wasn’t a stallion and it wasn’t a real stallionhood, but as desperate as I was, it was close enough for me at that point. “Are you ready?” my new unicorn marefriend asked, poising the cooler’s flared head at my entrance, the blue glow of her aura illuminating both it and the area between my legs. “Put it in me…” I pleaded, and I could sense her smile as she did so, pushing it in with tantalizing slowness, letting it slowly fill me; letting me feel every delicious inch. I tensed and took a sharp breath as it worked its way in—it was the perfect temperature and texture; she was even making it pulse rhythmically with quick magical squeezes at the base—and she didn’t stop until it was halfway in, almost to the medial ridge. She paused there just long enough to turn my head around to kiss me before she began to pump the cooler in and out of me, starting slowly and gradually moving it with increasing speed and power, occasionally shifting its angle or slightly twisting it to increase the stimulation. And yet, to my amazement, she still had enough leftover magic and focus to rub my clit and tweak my teats with separate tendrils of her aura! When I asked her about it later, she told me magical multitasking was something she’d had to learn to do as a dentist, in order to be able to hold up and use multiple instruments at once. But at that moment, lost in my own pleasure and need, such questions were beyond me; I just didn’t want her to stop! Her sense of timing and control were perfect; she brought me to the cusp of climax and then backed me off repeatedly, taking me a little higher each time. And all I could do was lie there and take it, savoring every moment of ecstasy and every delicious inch of the cooler, every kiss of her magic and caress of her aura against my body. As I lay there alternately panting and gasping, lost in the hot haze of my soon-to-be-sated heat, all I could think was… her stallion said she was a BAD lay? By Celestia, her mating magic could give Snow Lily’s a run! Finally, after what seemed an interminable but delicious amount of time—two minutes? Twenty? I’d lost all track—she let me go. “This is for you, Five Stars of Manehattan,” she whispered in my ear as she pushed the cooler in as deep as it would go and squeezed its base, causing its head to flare against the entrance of my womb and my body to tense, the symbolic act finally pushing me fully over the edge. “Happy Hearth’s Warming,” she cooed as I felt the shaft expand and warm, gooey liquid squirt deep inside me, giving my body what it so desperately craved… I screamed in pleasure and called Celestia’s name. * * * * * I came back to my senses some minutes later to find I was still being held in a pair of light blue hooves, my head gently cradled against their owner’s chest. “Better?” my new friend asked again, giving me a nuzzle. I looked at her in amazement and responded with a kiss. “You have no idea…” I managed, turning towards her and making out with her again, the rear end of the cooler still hanging sloppily between my legs. I was sweaty and the sheets were a bit of a mess, but… who the buck cared? “You know… for somepony who says they’re not into mares, you did that suspiciously well.” “You know… for somepony who says they’re not into mares, you enjoyed that suspiciously much,” she rejoined with a lopsided grin. My cheeks went warm again. “Well, it’s not like I never have…” I admitted. “It’s just…” I turned brooding for a moment. “What?” she asked in concern, sensing my sudden change in mood. “Nothing. Never mind,” I told her, not wanting to burden her with my own issues. But then again, hadn’t I already? “Tell me,” she implored. So I took a deep breath and did so, recounting the story of what had happened with Autumn the day Discord returned. “Oh…” was all she could say afterwards, blushing; I couldn’t tell if it was over my story or over the memories of what had happened to her that day. “I’m actually glad you didn’t tell me about that earlier then. I probably wouldn’t have offered to help if you had.” “Good thing,” I chuckled, a sardonic note in my voice. “I meant it when I said I’m not really into mares, but before that happened… once in a while I enjoyed being with my herdmates. Afterwards…” I shook my head regretfully. “Understandable,” my new friend and lover said, wrapping me comfortingly in her arms and aura. “I never really tried anything with the mares in my herd. Wasn’t really a need since our stallion tended to sleep with somepony different every night,” she explained. “Everypony, that is, except me,” she said in a quiet, trembling voice that spoke of remembered pain. “I was lucky if he rutted me once a month.” I shifted around so we were belly to belly—that’s actually a slightly awkward pose for two ponies—and kissed her again. “He didn’t deserve a pony as wonderful as you,” I told her, wrapping her in my own forelegs and squeezing her tightly. She managed a wan smile. “You’re just saying that…” “No, I’m not!” I told her insistently, and meant it. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. What you just did for me took a lot of skill and talent… to say nothing of compassion. It’s his loss—and not yours—that he let you go,” I told her, planting kisses on her cheeks between every few words. “Th-thank you…” she told me, tears welling in her eyes, though I still sensed a measure of doubt in them as well. How do I prove it? How do I restore her confidence? I wondered again, and the immediate answer I came up with was… I suddenly rolled on top of her, pinning her down gently with my earth pony strength. She looked up at me in some surprise. “It’s your turn,” I told her, gently kissing the sensitive base of her horn—the essence of a unicorn, and the source of my own relief and pleasure. She took a slightly ragged breath at that, her horn starting to glow gently blue again with channeled magic. Snow Lily once told me that unicorn horns had to be charged with magic before they became sensitive, but gentle stimulation could induce them to do so automatically, much like bringing a stallion to erection by rubbing their sheath. It was a lesson I’d taken to heart during our occasional nights together; I’d gotten quite good at giving her horn jobs over time… As my new friend was now quickly learning. “But…” she said slightly breathlessly as I began to lay licks and kisses along its entire spiral length, closing her eyes and biting her lip at the steadily increasing pleasure she was feeling, her horn glow intensifying with each fresh touch of my tongue. “No buts,” I told her just before taking her entire horn in my muzzle. “It’s my responsibility as a server to make sure guests enjoy themselves,” I told her around my mouthful, bobbing my head up and down on it like a stallionhood—which in many ways a unicorn horn is. “And you will enjoy yourself,” I promised her huskily, resolving I would both repay her for her earlier efforts and show her how wonderful and special a mare she was. It was how I was raised, after all. To always pay my debts. To always do right by others, and to always give my all. My name and cutie mark represents not so much a talent as a character trait and philosophy… Five Star Service in everything I do. * * * * * So it was here. Over the next hour, I put everything I had into making love to my new marefriend, and for that power, I thank you, Willow and Snow Lily—it was you two who taught me how to properly give and receive a mare’s pleasure. I put those skills to good use here, had her alternately calling to Celestia and screaming my name as I used my muzzle and hooves to work her horn, slit and teats in turn… and occasionally all at once; her horn in my muzzle while my hooves dug into her neglected marehood, giving her the attention and pleasure her sorry excuse for a stallion had so long denied her… Actually, I think it was then I realized how much I enjoyed that—hearing my name called in throes of passion. I told her over and over how beautiful and wonderful she was, how any stallion would love to have her and how her previous one didn’t deserve her. She ate it up as eagerly as I ate her up, her horn erupting in multicolored sparks with each orgasm like a Minotaurian fireworks display—or perhaps more appropriately, a Hearth’s Warming Tree—over and over. In time, we traded off again and she returned the favor with her muzzle and magic, servicing and sating me with all the aura and ability she could muster. Each time she got me off she seemed to grow in confidence just a little more, getting more and more bold to the point that she tried some other spells on me, including one that enhanced sensitivity and another that made me lactate(!), causing my breasts to swell and redoubling their sensation—between the two enchantments, she began suckling me and got me off on that alone! “I learned these to try to entice my stallion,” she told me later that day. “He never appreciated them.” Well, I did, and let her know that, amazed at how good she was making me feel. * * * * * After snowing all night, Hearth’s Warming Day dawned bright, cold and clear. In between my phases and our attendant lovemaking, we showered together, we talked, we ordered room service for lunch, then later that afternoon took a trip out on The Street to see the holiday sights—it was a slightly surreal experience walking through a snow-covered desert city, seeing palm trees and cacti holding up a blanket of white. We even managed to find presents for each other; she got me a warm red scarf from a local griffin-run clothier, so I returned the favor with a matching white one. Later on, we stopped by the Mystique gift shop to get a pair of jeweled casino chips etched with our cutie marks—a small little memento of our time together… For the record, I still have her chip now, in a small frame in my apartment. For dinner, I treated her to a nice traditional holiday meal at the Mystique buffet—using my employee discount and somewhat stingy holiday bonus, I could afford that, at least—where we ate and chatted for a while, discussing our hopes, plans, and futures—before heading to a downstreet theater to take in a traditional holiday pageant, one of Las Pegasus’ many circus performing troupes putting on the story of Hearth’s Warming. Not a bad production, I decided as the curtain came down and my new friend agreed with me, noting it was certainly one of the more acrobatic versions she’d seen. We ended the starry evening at a coffeeshop sharing a spiked peppermint eggnog before heading back to the hotel, still wearing the holiday-colored scarves we’d bought for each other; just two friends shoulder to shoulder on a cold winter night. * * * * * To this day, I don’t think I’ve ever had a better Hearth’s Warming. We spent her remaining vacation together, at least outside of my work hours. While I wasn’t available, she played a few games and seemed to be having some success at the slot machines and 21 tables, I noted, but more to the point, seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself. I was as well; she was always there to relieve my heat when fresh phases came along, our nights together weren’t quite as… intense as the first, but enjoyable nonetheless. Even without them, her company was good; she was the first real friend I’d made since I’d been there. But all good things must end, and three days after Hearth’s Warming, it was time for her to leave. I saw her off that morning from the train station, giving her a goodbye kiss on the platform. Before she boarded, I was surprised when she presented me with a large money pouch containing what appeared to be several hundred bits. “These are my winnings,” she explained. “I’d like you to have them, Five Stars,” she said, hovering the bag before me. I blushed at that—was she paying me for our time together? Treating me like a comfort horse? I wasn’t at all comfortable with that, and said so. “Then consider it a gift to a friend,” she told me with a smile, using her aura to put the pouch in my saddlebags. “And a thank you for making what was going to be a very lonely Hearth’s Warming special. You saved me, Five Stars. Saved my vacation, if not my very sanity,” she told me, tears in her eyes. Now what could I say to that? I just hugged her back. She’d helped me too; even aside from her being there to give me holiday company and relieve my heat, I no longer felt defined by my previous herd or what happened with Autumn Leaf—and that was the best holiday present I could ever receive. Our time together at an end, I invited her to keep in touch and look me up if she ever returned to Las Pegasus. She promised she would, but in my heart and I daresay hers as well… I knew we would probably never see each other again. But as the saying goes… what happens in Las Pegasus stays in Las Pegasus. In the end, I don’t regret it and don’t believe she did either. We were just two hurting souls who needed each other one snowy night, a pair of emotionally wounded mares who found comfort and rediscovered their confidence lying in each other’s hooves. I helped her, she helped me. We got each other through a difficult time and gave each other the strength to move forward with our lives… So I guess for that one night, we were each other’s comfort horse. And you know what? It was exactly what we both needed. So what is the job of a Gentleman? Put simply, it’s everything that two lost and lonely ponies were for each other one icy Hearth’s Warming Eve, far away from their homes and everything they had ever known. It’s to fill a need. To lend an ear and a friendly shoulder. To provide companionship and comfort, even if just a for a night. To restore lost confidence. To heal wounds. To make a mare feel like the very special somepony they are. So to anyone, person or pony who believes that a single night can’t change a life, or that a gentleman is little more than an exotic comfort horse, I simply point back to one cold Hearth’s Warming Eve, when two mares from very different walks of life found each other. They had no expectation that it would be any more than one or two nights together, no pressure or inclination to form a relationship, or that it would continue in any real form afterwards. There were no strings attached, nor any asked… just mutual needs, both physical and emotional, that the other could address… Much like what happens when a mare hires a Gentlemen. Sometimes that kind of casual encounter is needed far more than a commitment or a herd. Sometimes it takes a total stranger to see us for who we actually are… and show it back to us. Humans, I’ve found, are quite good at that... both individually and as a species. > Part 4: Auld Lang Syne > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – Auld Lang Syne By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines March 9 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: Nearly a month and a half into our publication of these articles, they—and we along with them—have received much attention and acclaim. To be certain, we have also received a great deal of criticism and even legal trouble, including boycott and lawsuit threats, and, as many of you know, obscenity charges recently filed by a city councilwoman. While our lawyers and legal advocates address such concerns, the articles will continue. We emphasize once more we take no position on Five Stars’ Profession, Gentlemen for Mares or the question of interspecies relationships. We are publishing these articles uncensored because we feel that with a growing number of human/pony pairings occurring on both sides of the portal, it is an issue that should be discussed, not hidden away from view. Though on a less gracious note… to those threatening to boycott us, feel free. Our circulation and ad revenue has soared thanks to these articles; we won’t miss you. You can claim we’re just trying to sell papers if you wish, and you are correct—we are a business and selling papers to make money is what we do. People have the right to buy our product… or not. If they ARE buying it, it’s because they like what we’re selling. That’s the essence of a free market and society. If you don’t like it, tough. You don’t have a right to shut us down just because we’re selling or saying things you don’t like. Signed, —Kalido Tema, Chief Editor, New York Life magazine Manehattan Post Owner’s Note: Like our sister publication, we have received thoroughly mixed reviews regarding our publication of these articles, with some local pony politicians threatening to prosecute us using archaic, centuries-old laws forbidding ‘depictions of interspecies indecency’ or open advertising of comfort horses. Needless to say, I find it very ironic—though very unsurprising—that the same ponies who so acclaimed us when we published unflattering and often-explicit exposes on human culture and mating habits are the same ones now screaming about ‘indecency’ and ‘undermining herd harmony’ when we turn the same scrutiny on our own society. As chief editor, I must listen to such concerns and point out politely that the journalistic profession requires the asking of uncomfortable questions and the exploration of all sides of an issue. However, as the owner of Manehattan Life magazine, my response to such critics is less constrained: Kiss my flank. The articles stay. And as for that lurid ‘exclusive’ in the New Yoke Times that I have in fact used Gentlemen for Mares myself… they are correct. I have. And will very happily continue to do so. Signed, —Hot Topic, Owner and Founder, Manehattan Post magazine Before I begin this week’s article, I would like to once again thank the Manehattan Post and New York Life magazines for their willingness to publish them, and the fact that they continue doing so even in the face of the criticism and apparent legal troubles they have received. I don’t really understand why sex is such a taboo topic in human society, though I certainly know why Gentlemen for Mares is a controversial subject to ponies. I, too, have received a good deal of fan and hate mail over the past few weeks, some of which I plan to share and answer in future articles. I am personally past the point where the latter bothers me, and would simply note that it’s very easy to toss insults and cast aspersions via mail when you don’t have to identify yourself or look your target in the eye. Easy, but contemptible. I don’t respect or respond to anonymous sniping. If you don’t have the courage of your convictions to put your name on your letter as I have put mine on these articles, it goes right in the garbage, unread. * * * * * My next story has less to do with Gentlemen for Mares than with me personally. In truth, I debated not sharing this particular tale, but… it was a night that did much to redefine my identity as a mare and in many ways made me the pony I am today. For that reason, it’s a tale worth telling. Out with the old… As my heat passed following after an unexpectedly happy and cathartic Hearth’s Warming, I headed towards the New Year a new pony and resolved to make the most of it, my time with my departed dentist friend a springboard propelling me forward—no more moping and no more looking back, I promised myself as I saw her off from the train station. It was time to move on with my life, to well and truly make a new life for myself there in Las Pegasus. I would make a name for myself and I would find a new stallion and herd, I vowed as we rung in the New Year in true Las Pegasus style, the casinos and hotels emptying out into a giant open-air Street party the likes of which I’d never seen. New Year’s Eve parties in Manehattan could be raucous and even occasionally raunchy, especially out in the crush of ponies watching the ball drop in Epochs Plaza. But I quickly found out they had NOTHING on Las Pegasus. The main difference began with the simple fact that unlike Hearth’s Warming, New Years was a celebration shared by all species, and Las Pegasus had plenty of non-ponies about. You might see the odd griffin or Saddle Arabian in Manehattan, but here in the desert oasis… at least a third of the denizens, both residents and guests, were non-equine. To say it made for an interesting scene would be putting it way too mildly: as the evening wore on and with plenty of alcohol (and a few other more illicit substances) flowing; societal and species boundaries were becoming very blurred… if not outright disappearing. At first it was just the odd kiss or wingbrush—nothing I hadn’t seen at the Shemareaton’s New Year’s gala. But it quickly escalated well beyond anything I’d ever encountered or even imagined before. It began in earnest when I was stunned to see what looked like a brief interspecies aerial scrap turn into a pegasus stallion mounting a griffin eagless on top of a fountain to loud cheers (I later learned they weren’t fighting—griffins just liked to spar with prospective partners before mating to get themselves worked up!) I’d barely gotten over my shock at that when I saw an adolescent dragon (he couldn’t have been more than fifty!) pick up an unresisting unicorn mare and put her on his lap as he laid back on a stone bench (belly-to-belly mating? How kinky was THAT?), his serpentine tongue lewdly wrapped around his equine mate’s horn while she shrieked her pleasure, her horn erupting in fireworks that rivaled what the repurposed pegasi weather teams were firing off overhead. Now reeling and wondering what in the name of Celestia was wrong with this town—interspecies mating, let alone public interspecies mating was WAY beyond the bounds of common decency, I thought (ironic, right?)—I turned and saw over in the corner… two zebra stallions making out openly, hiding neither their erections nor intent—being a ‘colt-cuddler’ was apparently not taboo in zebra culture. It certainly was (and is) in ponydom, however, and this display was less well-received… though I noticed many mares were staring intently at the pair and apparently very turned on by the sight of two males getting it on, if their stiffened wings and glistening slits were any indication. Surprised and more than a little uncomfortable at what was happening around me, I stuck to my serving duties as best I could, ignoring entreaties from my coworkers to join the party in earnest and the personal assurance of my hotel manager it was okay—on this night of all nights, we were allowed to partake and participate in the festivities ourselves, I was told repeatedly. I held out as long as I could but finally, I realized I was going to have to put something in my system to get through this awkward night. So when I thought nopony was looking, I grabbed a flute of sparkling cider and downed it in one gulp. Just one drink, I promised myself. Just to steady my nerves… * * * * * An hour later, one bubbly drink had become four, and I was about a horseshoe and a half to the wind. Maybe it was my steadily lowering inhibitions, maybe it was the encounter I had so recently enjoyed with my dentist friend, or maybe it just the general vibe of sex in the crowd, but… I found myself, through a chain of events I can no longer recall, giving into the demands of the throng and making out with a random pegasus server mare from the Palisades hotel next door. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with it and I don’t think she was either, her semi-stiff wings aside… though there WAS something deliciously naughty about the whole thing; breaking the rules like that. Nevertheless… we were sure we’d just lost our jobs when our respective hotel managers abruptly materialized in front of us—I mean that literally; as in the two unicorn mares teleported in with a bright flash, scaring us both half to death. The pair of older mares put on an angry air and stared at us for a moment, still in their hotel manager uniforms—violet for the Mystique, silver for the Palisades. The nearby crowd fell silent in seeming anticipation as my manager, an orange mare with white mane named Rising Star, reprimanded me for “socializing with a rival server,” while the Palisades manager gravely told her own cringing worker that “such brazen disloyalty amongst my staff simply cannot to be tolerated.” “And I had such high hopes for you, Five Stars…” Rising Star shook her head sadly, giving me a stern and sorrowful look. “You seemed like such a good worker. But here I find you smelling of cider and neglecting your duties for a fling with another filly,” she said with a nod to my left. My ears went flat at that. She was right—I had violated my not only the hotel’s (rarely enforced) fraternization policy, but my own personal code of conduct by drinking on duty… to say nothing of acceding to this… display. “I… I-I’m sorry,” I told her, bowing my head in shame. “It was very unprofessional of me.” “Indeed it was,” my manager told me sternly, drawing herself up straighter. “Because if you were truly going to be professional about entertaining our guests…” she got a devilish gleam. “THIS is how you’d do it!” she announced loudly as she turned towards her Palisades counterpart… And started to make out passionately with her as the mixed-species crowd erupted in cheers like they’d seen this act from them before. My muzzle dropped open as the two unicorn mares magically undressed each other, tendrils of their orange-and-blue auras slipping inside each other’s clothes and probing beneath the other’s tail as their kissing got ever-more urgent and tongue-heavy… the pair finally ending up buck-naked on the ground belly-to-belly in a modified swirl, suckling each other’s teats while simultaneously running their horns along the length of each other’s slit… probing and pleasuring each other with their auras while I could only watch slackjawed, a blush in my cheeks while my palisades twin stared transfixed, her wings going extremely stiff and almost-painfully splayed at the display in front of us. It took less than two minutes from beginning to end—clearly something they had plenty of practice at and enjoyed. When they came, it was all over everything around them; the orgasmic eruption from their horns shamelessly showered everypony within a thirty-hoof radius with magical, multicolored sparks that tingled pleasantly when they hit you, almost instantly soaking into your body and giving you the barest echo of what they were feeling. It had happened with Snow Lily a few times and she was usually embarrassed by it… but never from a total stranger! “Now THAT is how you entertain our guests!” Rising Star told us as she climbed somewhat shakily back to her hooves, speaking in a slightly breathless tone like she was telling the punchline of a joke. “And we expect much better performance from you both in the future…” her still-flushed Palisades counterpart added as she stood back up as well and began to re-dress, the two mares sharing a parting kiss before bowing to the wildly cheering and hoof-stomping crowd. “Come with me, Five Stars,” my manager told me, carrying her clothes in her aura. I’d never seen her without them on, and she was a very elegant orange unicorn who wore her years well; her white hair was graying slightly but still possessed its original sheen. My world turned upside-down once again, I let her lead me away, badly shaken. Realizing I was in no shape for anything at that point, she teleported me back to her office (which did NOT help my upset system) and sat me down on one of her guest cushions. “It’s a party, Five Stars. The biggest party of the year, in fact,” she told me, more gently as she mixed me a drink out of her personal minibar, which was stocked with all sorts of exotic alcohols. “I’m sorry if I shocked you. I was just trying to show you—by example—it’s okay to let go. I want you to loosen up and enjoy yourself out there,” she emphasized as she floated me the drink, which I accepted with a shaking hoof, half-wondering if she was planning to loosen me up herself… and if I’d let her do it. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but you’ve been pensive and uptight ever since you started here. I thought you got better the last couple days, though—I heard from the elevator guards you were hanging out with a certain guest over Hearth’s Warming a lot?” she told me with a sly grin, causing me to blush. “Ah… so you HAVE already indulged yourself with a guest,” she gave me an approving nod and smile… which fell slightly as I looked away. “Why so ashamed? Did she not enjoy herself?” Rising Star asked, her head cocked to the side. “She… she did,” I admitted, remembering what my dentist friend said about how I’d saved her vacation. “And did YOU?” my manager immediately followed up. My intensified blush answered for me. “Good,” she said in satisfaction. “Then you helped a guest to enjoy herself, and helped yourself in the process. So what’s the problem?” I blinked at that—so what WAS the problem? I found myself wondering. “But… it’s unprofessional…” was the only response I could muster, and it sounded weak even to my own ears. She arched an eyeridge at that. “That’s the second time you’ve said that. So tell me, Five Stars…” she said, pouring her own drink while she looked out her big office window over the massive party on the Street; as we watched a giggling pegasi mare shot past pursued by two young griffin tiercels—another uncomfortable (and strangely titillating) reminder of the interspecies action going on out there. My manager smiled at the sight, craning her neck to see them. “You were very coy when I initially interviewed you about your previous job and life in Manehattan. I didn’t press because I could tell you didn’t want to talk about it, and you don’t have to here either. But I would like to know… why did you leave?” she asked, turning back to me. “I promise I won’t share it or hold it against you.” Deciding I had nothing to lose, I took another hard swig of the drink—Griffin Gin, much more potent than the sparkling cider I’d been drinking—and told her everything: my previous herd and herd stallion, my lead mare manager, what happened with her when Discord returned… and how the aftermath finally forced me out. Rising Star listened quietly and by the end she was staring at me, nodding in sympathy. “Your last manager sounds like a real piece of work,” she told me, a little more subdued. “I trust you know by now I’m not like that.” I could only nod numbly—no, she was no Autumn Leaf. Though you’re a piece of work too… I didn’t say. “So… you were an up-and-coming concierge with a promising career and a good herd, but you lost them and now you’re starting over,” she summarized. “I know it’s not easy, but this town, Five Stars… it’s made for new beginnings,” she told me. “It swallows up some ponies whole, but for others… it’s the ticket to a new life and career. You said yourself that you were meant to be in the hospitality industry, and take it from me… you’ll never find a place more welcoming or hospitable than this one,” she told me with a wry grin as the pegasus mare and griffin males flew by again, the latter starting to close the distance on the former. “I think you can make it here… but ONLY if you decide you want to. Only if you embrace the city’s spirit… and yourself in the process,” she said, speaking slowly. I shifted uncomfortably on the cushion where I sat. “I don’t know if I want to embrace it if that means I’m required to bed guests.” “Not required,” she quickly corrected me. “Tell me… why did you indulge with that one guest over Hearth’s Warming?” she challenged, taking a sip of her drink. I shifted uncomfortably, wishing the gin would soak into my system faster. “Because… I was in heat and I liked her. Because… I was lonely and I needed her, and… well… she was having a rough time and needed me,” I said, rubbing a hoof behind my head, still scarcely able to believe I was having this conversation. “Exactly!” my manager nodded. “My only rule is staff/guest relationships is this: that there are no obligations, and it’s for mutual benefit and enjoyment,” she said, causing me to blink. “You do it because you want to, not because you have to. You make a guest happy, they come back. They tell their friends. They come as well and they all spend more bits. In the same way… if you make a server happy, they make guests happier. Mutual enjoyment is the essence of this city—the essence of entertainment itself,” she told me. “Surely it wasn’t so different in Manehattan?” “Not like… THAT!” I pointed with a hoof out the window to a nearby rooftop, where the two tiercels had finally cornered their pegasus mare quarry, who didn’t look too at all unhappy to be trapped as she turned and raised her tail. The pair wasted little time in pinning her, the first laying little love bites with his beak all along the leading edge of her stiff wings and shoulders as the second moved to mount her, his large wings splayed wide. Rising Star looked out at the scene and smiled. “Well… don’t get me wrong. What you’re seeing is basically a once-a-year thing when we have this massive Street party and all inhibitions get thrown to the wind. Any other day, that wouldn’t happen except in private or behind closed doors. Still… there’s probably no other place on the planet this could happen except here… and it is a point of pride to us,” she told me as I heard a mare’s muffled shriek of pleasure and the two male griffins traded places. “Though maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you’re still acting the way you were supposed to as a concierge in Manehattan. But in Las Pegasus… the rules are different. Especially at my hotel. And ESPECIALLY tonight,” she said with another wry grin as she began to put my slightly disheveled uniform and makeup back to rights with her magic, emphasizing her point by giving my flanks a sudden squeeze with her aura as it passed over them to smooth out my dress. She pulled back quickly when I flinched. “Now that said… I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to,” my manager hastened to add, perhaps sensing she’d gone too far. “If you’re not comfortable out there, you can take the night off and when you come back I’ll try to find a posting more your speed. But in all honesty… I think you should give the party another try. The tips are good tonight, and nopony—least of all me—is going to mind if you indulge yourself with a drink or a patron,” she grinned at me. “You said you were a concierge at an upscale Manehattan hotel, and it shows—I can tell you’re a classy and intelligent earth pony, Five Stars, and your talents are clearly wasted as a server. But at the same time… I’d like to see you succeed as one before I begin moving you up.” I told her I understood and asked her for some time to compose myself and think about things. She nodded and left me to it, promising I could remain in her office for as long as I wished. With a parting invitation that I could use her washroom as well, her horn flared and she disappeared in a flash of light, teleporting back down to The Street below. As I nursed the drink she gave me, I mulled what she had said, turning her words over in my head. Oddly enough, what stuck out most was something my father had once told me years earlier and she had roughly echoed; a basic truth of the hospitality industry: That happy staff equaled happy guests, and happy guests spent more bits and came back for more. Embrace the spirit of the city, and embrace yourself, her words echoed in my head. But could I do that? And what exactly did ‘embracing myself’ mean…? And In With The New! I didn’t leave the office for the better part of an hour, slowly sipping at my drink while I thought… and brooded. At the Shemareaton or even my father’s hotel, we were supposed to see to the comfort of our guests even at the cost of our own. But here in Las Pegasus… it was different. Here… it was apparently supposed to be mutual. And I have to say, I rather liked the idea that I could my put own enjoyment and comfort on equal footing with our guests… In hindsight, a good future lesson for Gentlemen. So then… what do you want, Five Stars? What makes you happy? I asked as I stared out the office window, hearing the clock strike eleven. Professionally, the answer to that question was easy—what made me happy was making others happy, as befits someone born and raised to be in the hospitality industry. It was my both my career and my identity, as my cutie mark showed only too clearly. But as for what made me happy personally… a warm body and the attention of a stallion, the answer came back quickly. I blinked at a sudden thought—so why did they have to be separate? Why couldn’t they be one and the same? Why was I clinging so tightly to the protocols of my past, following the rules of the Shemareaton and a former hotel manager I no longer worked for or respected? My new manager was trying to show me a new way to think and work, one which, if I was being honest with myself, I’d already indulged in just a few days earlier. So… why not try it out? I asked as I stared at my reflection in the glass window. Why couldn’t my private passions be part of my profession as well? What do I have to lose? With that, I made my decision. I touched up my dress and makeup, put a little swagger in my step, downed the remaining gin and headed back downstairs. Take a deep breath, I stepped outside and grabbed a fresh serving tray, reserving one flute for myself as I waded back into the crowd. From her private perch overlooking The Street, Rising Star caught my eye and smiled. * * * * * The next half-hour passed quickly. I had another couple drinks, and with my change in attitude and a newfound willingness to flirt with the guests, I found myself picking up a lot more tips (funniest thing, right?) and interest, from stallions and mares alike. I found myself appraising the former a great deal, wondering who would be good to concentrate a little more effort on. I got an answer quickly. As the clock rolled towards midnight and The Street party got even more wild, I discovered a slightly-overwhelmed looking earth pony stallion kind of hiding in a corner, a gold-furred and fire-maned country colt wearing a brown pleather vest and a matching Stetson with a black band just above the brim. Finally fully into the festivities myself, I hated seeing a stallion not enjoying himself, especially one as good-looking as this one, and did my best to put him at ease. “Hey there, cowcolt,” I called to him easily—he certainly looked like a cowcolt with his attire, and I wondered if he was a performer of some sort. “Can a filly offer you a drink?” I presented my serving tray. “Ah, well…” he answered in a rather thick country accent that certainly made him sound like one too, making no move to take one of the flutes. “Ah’m ‘fraid Ah don’t have many bits on me…” he said, sounding slightly embarrassed. “Can’t say Ah really like that bubbly none neither.” That cinched it—if he didn’t have money and wasn’t soliciting any, he certainly wasn’t a performer; he was the real deal. “Then let a lady buy you one,” I told him with a disarming grin. “What’s your pleasure?” He raised his green eyes to my orange ones in surprise. “That’d… be right kind of ya, ma’am…” he tipped his hat to me in gratitude. “Maybe some ale?” he asked shyly, and I swiftly retrieved it for him, declining his slightly-awkward attempt to give me a tip. Starting to talk with him, I learned he was a native of nearby Appleloosa (about a half day away by train), in town ‘on business’, but his train got cancelled and he’d then gotten caught up in the party with no place to stay… clearly not knowing what to do in the midst of so many different ponies and other species, many of whom were now openly making out or rutting. He was certainly getting his share of attention from the mares, I noticed, but seemed flustered by it; wasn’t reciprocating their attention at all. I really didn’t understand why. To say he was gorgeous would be an understatement; with his looks and outfit he could easily been mistaken for some of the stallions in the high-end male revue shows—and probably was. Regardless, a couple tall and frosty mugs of frothy ale seemed to loosen him up, and I began checking on him more frequently, though I can’t say my motives were all innocent—helped by own alcohol buzz (how many drinks had I had? Six? Seven? I’d lost track) I resolved that if I was truly going to ‘loosen up’ as Rising Star wanted me to, I’d start right here and began to chat him up in earnest, charmed by his Appleloosa accent, polite manner, frontier-style cowcolt attire and rugged good looks. “So what brings you out to Las Pegasus, cowcolt?” I asked him with a twinkle as I brought him his third drink, just five minutes before midnight. “Just trying t’ drum up some tourism fer mah town, ma’am…” he explained, starting to sound a little more at ease. “Now that we’re on good terms with th’ local buffalo tribe, we could both use th’ bits,” he added, going on to say he’d been trying to get the local tour outfits to start offering trips into Appleloosa and surrounding countryside, with the promise of offering an ‘authentic frontier experience’. “I see…” I told him, looking him over more directly now. “So then tell me, cowcolt… what ‘authentic frontier experience’ do you have to offer?” I challenged, stretching out my neck and batting my eyes at him. “Well, uh…” he shifted his hooves a little nervously as he sensed my interest. “Ah reckon what y’ see is what y’ get?” he said, turning fractionally to the side to give me a better view of him, giving me a look that was equal parts shy and sly. Needless to say, I liked what I saw—physically, he was a young and well-muscled workhorse, and that vest and hat of his only added to his cowcolt allure. In terms of personality, he seemed a bit bashful but also very honest and earnest—“runs in th’ family,” he told me when I brought it up later. “Most’a us ‘r apple farmers.” “Well, I certainly like your apples,” I nodded at his flank in a deliberate double-entendre—by my words and where I was staring, I could be referring to either his cutie mark… or what lay beneath his tail. He was a country colt, but that didn’t mean he was slow—he got it immediately, his green eyes widening a bit. “Well, ma’am… it ain’t right fer me t’ brag, but… mah apples ARE pretty popular,” he tried. “Everypony who tries ‘em likes ‘em, Ah mean.” My eyes turned hooded. “Well, then… I might like to try them,” I told him, bumping his hip with my own and whisking my tail over him. He visibly swallowed, looking surprised, excited and frightened all at once. “Ah think… that could be arranged…” he offered tentatively. “How soon?” I asked eagerly, briefly flagging my tail as I turned away to bend down and pick up some discarded flutes. No question about it—I was actively trying to offer myself to him… and it was even starting to sound like he might let me have him! “W-well, uh…” he stammered, rubbing his hoof behind his head. I once told a prospective gentlemen that I don’t have much in the way of subtlety—that when I find a male who I think might be interested in me, I just tend to go after them, human or stallion. This was the first time that actually happened, and I loved the feeling of power it gave me. “Don’t be so coy, cowcolt,” I tut-tutted at him. “Surely you’ve got the size to satisfy?” I asked him cheekily, bumping him with my hip again while in the background, I heard the one-minute countdown begin. He grinned, his cheeks warm—was he blushing or was that just the alcohol in his system? “Cahn’t say Ah’ve evah had complaints.” “So tell me more about this ‘authentic frontier experience’ of yours,” I cooed in his ear, rubbing my flank along his, noting his breath caught and he didn’t pull away. “So just what does Appleloosa have to offer?” “Well, uh… we offer apple juice and hay rides for all the colts and fillies,” he offered. “Oh really?” I grinned, feeling devilish, some part of me both amazed and appalled at what I was about to do. Taking a final deep breath and throwing both caution and a lifetime of etiquette training to the wind, I stepped in front of him, brushing his shoulder with my hip and nose with my tail as I walked—basically sauntered—by. “Well, then… care to give this filly a ride, cowpony?” I asked him in as sultry a tone as I could muster as I flagged my tail and glanced over my shoulder to give him a come-hither look, my wet and swollen marehood inviting him to mount me right out in the open in front of every buffalo, pony, griffin, zebra and dragon watching us… and there were many; all nearby eyes were now on us, the crowd loudly urging us on. His jaw fell open and green eyes went wide at my forwardness; he nearly dropped his ale mug as he beheld—and couldn’t seem to look away—from my display. “W-well, now. That’s a mighty temptin’ offer ‘o ya, Miss…” he stammered, looking around nervously and seemingly hesitating even as his stallionhood dropped right out of his sheath, quickly hardening up beneath his belly—no, he certainly wasn’t lacking for size! Whatever internal battle he was fighting, the sight of a ready and eager mare seemed to settle it as he pulled himself up straighter and he took a pair of deep breaths. “Reckon it’d be impolite t’ leave a filly waitin’… and mama always said to treat a lady right!” he announced as he threw back his remaining half-pint of ale in one continuous swig, tossing the mug aside with a loud wooden clatter before rearing up to mount me, his powerful forelegs locking quickly around my barrel, holding me in place while he probed for—and shortly found—my entrance. He was a little tentative at first but quickly found his stride, sinking his throbbing stallionhood halfway in me on his very first thrust. To that point I’d never been mated by another earth pony and soon realized what I’d been missing; the sheer strength of his body and the public nature of the act only adding to its rapture for me. My vision swam and I found myself lost in a haze of pleasure as the country colt rutted me with all the considerable earth pony power and passion he could muster, rearing up and slamming his hips forward one final time to deliver his seed deep within me just as the clock struck midnight. I saw stars, both real and imagined as Minotaurian fireworks erupted over The Street, joined by unicorns and dragons shooting their own celebratory displays of magic and flame into the air… My screams of pleasure were lost in the explosions. * * * * * The party didn’t end there, either out on the street or for me personally. To little surprise, my manager had seen the whole thing—then again, we were rather hard to miss. To great surprise, however… she teleported in when we were done and gave me the rest of the night off, telling us both to go enjoy ourselves, even offering us a complimentary suite. We stayed out there another two hours before taking her up on that offer. I took off my server’s uniform (always a relief, believe me) and walked The Street shoulder to shoulder to him to see all the various shows and performances, occasionally pulling him aside to make out or inviting him to take me again… watching him in gain in confidence and eagerness each time. He did have some quirks, like leaving his vest and hat on as we rutted, but I enjoyed the feeling of his soft vest against my coat, an interesting but not unwelcome contrast to his hard muscles and powerful earth pony body. He was a workhorse and it showed in his rutting, I learned the difference earth pony strength and stamina made as we returned to the Mystique, collecting a room key from my manager. We went to our suite and mated hourly for the rest of the night, rutting each other’s brains out and only collapsing into each other’s embrace for the final time as Celestia’s sun rose on a New Year. I don’t think either of us stirred until it was nearly noon. But then again… how were we different from anypony else in Las Pegasus on New Years’ Day? I woke before he did, and found myself lost in thought even I snuggled closer up against him. On one level, what happened out there was surprising to me for several reasons, not the least of which was that I wasn’t usually interested in sex so soon after a heat (in my experience, it tends to leave your libido suppressed for a week or two afterwards), and… though I did not consider myself a prude, I was NOT one to just, well, tuck/fuck out in public like that in front of several hundred ponies and others who could see me… let alone pounce a nameless male I’d just met! And yet… it was so liberating, just tossing all the rules aside like that. I felt free in a way I’d never been before—there was no obligation, no danger, no demands in what we’d done—nothing except two ponies enjoying themselves and having a good time. I should mention he knew MY name from my uniform nametag, but I didn’t know his—he started to offer it later that night, but I stopped him with a hoof to his mouth—part of the night’s magic was in the mystery of his identity, I reasoned, so why spoil it? I reminded myself as I snuggled up more tightly against him, drifting back off to sleep. When I next opened my eyes, I found his green ones staring back at me, almost in wonder as I lay curled against his flank. “A bit for your thoughts, cowcolt,” I finally spoke up, giving him a nuzzle. “What’s on your mind?” He was a little embarrassed but finally told me. “Reckon Ah just don’t get it…” I eventually dragged out of him. “Why’d a high-class lady like you wanna be wit’ a classless, bit-less cowcolt like me?” he asked in earnest. “Ah ain’t complainin’!” he hastened to add, throwing up his hooves in placation when he saw my expression go a little sour. I bapped him lightly on the nose with my hoof. “Don’t you ever talk about yourself that way,” I told him sternly. “Take it from me—class isn’t defined by station or breeding or how many bits you’ve got in your pockets. It’s defined by what’s here,” I emphasized, poking him in the chest between his open vest lapels. “You’ve got more heart and more class than many wealthy Manehattan and Las Pegasus ponies I’ve met. Trust me, I’ve been in this business long enough to know the difference.” “Thank y’ kindly. But Ah still wanna know…” he bit his lip, looking like he was steeling himself. “Of all th’ ponies out there las’ night… why’dja choose me?” That caught me a little short. It was a question a mare would normally ask a stallion, not the other way around. Thinking about it, I wasn’t immediately sure how to answer, other than to note he was a big strong stallion who had caught my eye just as I’d decided to take my manager’s advice and really cut loose. Except it’s more than that… I belatedly realized, noting if that were all it took, he was right—there were plenty of other attractive stallions out there last night; I’d seen several before settling on this one. Okay. So why him…? I suddenly found myself wondering, smiling as the answer came to me. “It’s because you’re real,” I told him. “Because you don’t pretend to be something you’re not, unlike way too many ponies I’ve seen around here.” If I had any real gripe with Las Pegasus, it was that—too much pretention, too many pretenders… too many dolled-up mares and too many males who only seemed to care about the next piece of tail they could score—I wanted more than that, and was sure he could give it to me. “It’s like you said last night… what you see is what you get,” I noted, giving him a poke in the shoulder. “When I look at you… I see a strong and earnest earth pony who cares about his community and family. One who was here not to help himself, but to help his town. Though that said…” I smiled as my hoof traced down his belly towards his sheath, causing his breath to catch. “You looked a little lost out there last night. And maybe it’s just being in the hospitality industry so long, but… I HATE seeing somepony not enjoying themselves. Especially a stallion as good-looking as you,” I said, stroking him back to hardness. “Though you know… if you advertised yourself as the face of your town, you probably wouldn’t have any trouble attracting tourists—especially mares,” I added with a wry gin. He blushed and gave me a look. “With respect, ma’am… Ah don’t want folks—ponies or no—t’ think that’s what we’re about in Appleloosa,” he told me in a slightly reproachful tone. I blushed back at that, my foreleg stilling. “Oh…” I said. Open mouth, insert hoof. “Forgive me, I-I didn’t mean to~” He pulled me close and silenced me with a kiss, indicating I could continue, running his hard hoof through my curled mane. “It’s okay, Miss. Fer whatever it’s worth… Ah think yer real, too…” he offered cautiously. “Mah family’s into farming ‘n Ah haven’t met many fillies… uh, ci-city fillies, Ah mean… that Ah’d care t’ know better. But you…” he trailed off uncertainly, looking away in what seemed to be confusion for a moment. I frowned at his sudden change of mood. “What’s the matter?” I asked him. “Nothin’,” he assured me, though there was an odd undertone in his voice. “Just’a touch of’a hangover,” he said, suddenly rubbing his temples and seemingly unwilling to meet my eyes. I wasn’t convinced, but let it go, just enjoying his presence and snuggling. I did stroke his stallionhood for a bit longer, but couldn’t get him off again—apparently even Earth Ponies had their limits. “Th-think Ah’m just about done, ma’am” he said, almost apologetically. “’Just about’, huh?” I grinned at him. “I like a challenge…” I announced as I shifted around a bit, moving my head down his belly. “M-ma’am? What ‘r ya…” he asked in confusion, his voice quickly cut off as I lowered my head and took the head of his stallionhood inside my muzzle. The effect was instant. I heard him take a ragged breath and his slightly flaccid shaft instantly hardened up fully. “B-but…! y-you…! th-that’s…!” I heard him mildly protest between panting gasps, like I was doing something unfair. I still don’t get why oral sex between different genders is a big deal among ponies, but it was clearly something he’d never encountered before… and liked a lot! I spread his now-unresisting hind legs apart insistently to give myself better access and view, draping myself him over as he gasped repeatedly, gritting his teeth with his back arched almost painfully against the bed as I continued to go down on him (though I didn’t learn ‘go down on’ as a term until I met humans!)… cradling his apples with one hoof while gently stroking the base of his shaft with the other. Despite as many times as he’d already come, he had one more in him and didn’t last long under my efforts. I heard an almost-pained groan and felt his hips buck hard, releasing one final load of seed into my waiting muzzle. With that, he was finally spent… and myself, sated. It was a good feeling. Despite his sweaty body, we stayed in bed together another hour, snuggling like I’d enjoyed—but so rarely gotten to do—with Burning Heart. It couldn’t last much longer, though. As much as I wanted to remain there with him, his rescheduled train was leaving in the early afternoon, and I’d be back on shift in another couple hours, so we had to part company soon. * * * * * Something was wrong. As lunch came and went—room service compliments of my manager—he got progressively more moody and distant. When I tried to initiate contact with him, he pulled away repeatedly, saying only that he needed some space. When I asked him what was wrong, he wouldn’t answer. When I told him I’d like to see more of him, he froze up completely, a far cry from the eager cowcolt he’d been the previous night or earlier that morning. Starting to feel rejected, I asked him at least to let me take him to the train station and see him off. Somewhat reluctantly, he allowed me to. And thus, for the second time in a week, I sent somepony home from Las Pegasus, another lover I wasn’t likely to keep. “Guess this is it,” I told him somewhat sadly as we stood on the platform. “Reckon so,” he said neutrally, still not looking at me. The moment lingered awkwardly for a moment, neither of us knowing quite what to do. The time of our parting at hoof, I felt like I had to say something. Now or never, Five Stars! I told myself as he opened his muzzle only to close it again, shaking his head as he went to board the train. “Listen… I’m sorry if you’re having second thoughts,” I called after him. “But… whatever’s bothering you… please don’t hate me or regret what we did,” I begged him, putting a hoof on his flank. “I’m very glad to have met you, and wouldn’t trade last night for anything… or anypony,” I told him honestly. My heart sunk when he didn’t immediately reply, but rose when he stopped and looked back at me like he was considering something. Stepping back from the train, he shrugged out of his vest and picked it up in his muzzle, draping it around my shoulders. “Fer you… and only fer you… Ah won’t, Miss Five Stars,” he promised me somewhat cryptically, calling me by name for the first and only time. With that, he hugged me hard and gave me a parting kiss that lingered for more than a minute, taking my breath away one last time before he finally boarded the train. I watched it depart and slowly recede into the desert, the cowcolt waving his hat out the window at me until he was out of sight forever. As ridiculous as his vest looked on me, I wore it in my off-hours the rest of week. In fact, I still keep it in my closet to this day. Thus, a Hearth’s Warming to remember was followed up with a New Year’s I’d never forget. Needless to say, it was one hay of a way to ring in the New Year. Having gotten at least a measure of assurance that my cowcolt friend genuinely did like me and was trying to come to terms with whatever was troubling him, I pulled on his vest and felt an odd peace descend over me as I trotted back to the Mystique, sensing I was a changed mare. I didn’t yet know what it all meant or portended, or even if my wonderful cowcolt would ever come back. But for what he—and the night itself—had done for me, I decided it was all worth it. The thoughts of my coworkers weren’t quite so deep as I returned to work. They teased me endlessly for days, either noting that I’d “finally gotten into the proper serving spirit” or asking endless variations of “so how well did the cowpony ride?” For the record, the answer I gave was always the same—that he made love with his vest on, and he more than earned his spurs with me. It was an especially awkward question when it came from my manager, but Rising Star had certainly proven she was no Autumn Leaf—she seemed genuinely happy at the change she saw in me and made sure I was okay with all had happened that night. I told her and her alone the full story of what had happened; she told me the best thing I could do would be to give him some space and not go looking for him—“If he wants to see you again, he’ll let you know, but it may take some time,” she reminded me gently. As for my nameless cowcolt friend… I could have found him (or at least found out who he was) by a simple visit to Appleloosa, but I followed my manager’s advice and did not seek him out. My forbearance was rewarded when, about two weeks after New Year’s, I received a package with no return address except an Appleloosa postmark, with a request that the Mystique mailroom ‘Please deliver this to my Five-Star friend’. It was presented to me by my manager, who shooed away the other servers when they realized who it was from and kept it for me until I could take it back to my motel that night. My shift couldn’t end fast enough but when it did, I rushed back to the motel so I could open it in private. Inside was a gift basket filled with Appleloosa-grown oats and apples, a flask of locally-distilled (and VERY potent) cider… and a multipage missive from my cowcolt friend, muzzle-written on several pages of rolled-up parchment. I’m not going to share his letter, but in it he apologized for how he had acted before leaving and explained the reasons behind it, some of which very much surprised me… and left me feeling a little guilty, realizing only then how uncomfortable I must have made him feel. He did emphasize he was very flattered by my interest and as time passed found himself more at peace with our night together, especially appreciating me telling him that “he was real,” noting it was one of the nicest things anypony had ever said to him… but for the time being he simply ‘didn’t feel right’ doing it again, and, as tempting as it was to see more of me, felt it was best for both of us that he didn’t return to Las Pegasus. Though disappointed, I understood, sending back a letter to the Appleloosa post office addressed to “my fire-maned, fruit-flanked cowcolt.” In it, I apologized for any distress I had caused him, thanked him again for a wonderful night, told him I wished him well and if he ever wanted or needed me, I would be there. I never got a reply, but the letter also never came back, so I assume he got it. Regardless, the letters granted a measure of closure for us both, and I was able to move on from it. I did eat the fruit he sent me, though. Braeburn Apples, I believe. And as he promised… they were quite delectable. > Part 5: The Day Equestria Stood Still > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – The Day Equestria Stood Still By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines March 23 issues Dear readers: Before I get into this week’s article, I’d like to share a very surprising muzzle-written letter I received just today. It had been my plan to spend an entire article answering letters and reader questions a little further down the line, but I think this one is worth sharing right away. With the author’s express permission, I am reproducing the letter here with names carefully redacted: Dear Five Stars, It’s [Burning Heart]. I’m writing to you not from Equestria, but from Earth—I’m enclosing a picture and one of my shed secondary feathers so you’ll know it’s me. I’ve been living and working in Amareica (did I spell that right? I never seem to) for nearly three years now, and it was just a couple days ago I heard my human coworkers talking about an interesting series of articles in the New Yoke York Life magazine. You can well imagine my surprise at what I found. I’m not going to lie, Five Stars… it was VERY hard reading about our herd from your point of view, seeing all my mistakes and neglect laid out for two worlds to see like that. For what little it’s worth, you were right—I should have stood up to [Autumn] and never let you go. But as humans say… that’s water under the bridge. I’ve often wondered what became of you, and though I can’t say I’m entirely comfortable with what you do, I’m at least happy to know you’ve found fulfillment in it. It seems the opening of the portal has been good to both of us, then. (Seriously, though. “Burning Heart?” Was my alias supposed to be a commentary on my penchant for spicy food? Did my cooking really give you Heartburn?) Since you don’t know the rest of the story after [Willow and Snow Lily] left, I’ll tell it briefly: I did finally come to my senses and ‘dump’ [Autumn] as you termed it, but by then it was too late. She systematically destroyed my herd because she wanted me for herself, and even worse… I let her do it, afraid to stand up to her for fear she’d cost us all our jobs and perhaps careers—something she obliquely threatened on several occasions. It’s no excuse, but in truth I was most afraid for [Willow], worried that if she was let go, there’d be no way she could find work or another herd in the anti-thestrel atmosphere that existed back then. When I finally left her, [Autumn] threw a fit (to put it mildly) and told me I’d “never work in her town again!” She was, unfortunately, as good as her word, using her influence to make sure I couldn’t find another job in Manehattan. Running out of money and deciding you had the right idea all along, I followed in your hoofsteps, heading out to Las Pegasus to start over, starting out as a line cook but eventually becoming head chef of a restaurant at the Palamino. I half-hoped I’d run into you out there, but… I guess I was too late. In the end, I did learn my lesson, though I’m afraid the experience so soured me I haven’t taken another herd since. Looking back, if I could do it all again… I’d’ve come with you to Las Pegasus and brought [Willow and Snow Lily] along… taken the herd and left [Autumn] behind. We would have made a new beginning together, as the family we were meant to be. But as you say… there is no point dwelling on what might have been. All you can do is learn from it and move on, painful though it was. When Neo Equinox finally opened to civilian passage, I decided to make a new life for myself on the other side, learning human cuisine and cooking techniques—I’m currently gainfully employed as a sous chef at the Sheraton Manhattan, for a moment of irony. In truth, I’m rather happy here, and I invite you over to this side of the portal to visit sometime, so we can catch up and I can give you my apologies ‘in person’, as humans say. Oh, and… after giving it some thought and talking it over with friends, I give you permission to publish this letter and use my real name. Celestia knows I’m not proud of my failures as a herd stallion, but I’m not going to hide from them either. With regrets and fond memories, —Cayenne Kick, a.k.a. “Burning Heart” Thank you for your letter, Cayenne. It’s good, if bittersweet to hear from you as well. I’ll write you a private response later, but I would like to say this much publicly: I meant it when I said you were my favorite herd stallion, and I’m sorry things worked out the way they did. I believe I will one day take you up on your offer—for as much as I work with humans, I still haven’t crossed the portal to visit the human world. Definitely something I should do. It’s funny how the arrival of humanity and opening of Neo Equinox helped both of us to find what we needed. In many ways, I think that applies to ponies as a species as well. (And to answer your question… yes, as much as I enjoyed your cooking, sometimes your food did give me heartburn. It was nothing an occasional antacid potion couldn’t fix, though.) A New Year and New Mare After an unhappy arrival in Las Pegasus, the Winter Holidays had turned my life around. I used to scoff at the idea that a single night or encounter could forever change a pony, but in the space of a week, a dentist and cowcolt taught me differently… and to this day I remain very grateful to them for it. With a new attitude and outlook, I hit the ground running at a full gallop into the New Year, determined to not let the lessons I’d just learned go to waste. My resolution list was a short one: I would become the best worker I could. I would regain my old post of concierge. I would make a name for myself in Las Pegasus… And when all that was accomplished, I would find a new herd. Recalling the advice of Rising Star, who was quickly becoming something of a mentor if not mother figure to me, I spent the next month throwing myself into my server job, menial and beneath me though I considered it before. No longer. My heart fully into it and starting to truly enjoy my work, my tips soared and I quickly became a favorite among both our regulars and out-of-town guests alike. And to answer the question I’m sure somepony or person is thinking… yes, I did indulge with guests, both mares and stallions a few more times over the next several months. I won’t share them since they weren’t as good or eye-opening as my Hearth’s Warming and New Year’s Eve encounters, but to be fair… those were pretty high bars to clear! All I will note is that I took Rising Star’s advice on the subject to heart—that it was fine as long as it was for mutual pleasure and benefit, with no strings attached… That it was fine as long as it helped a server enjoy their job and a guest enjoy their stay. Unlike some coworkers, I didn’t do it to earn a good tip (I was pretty well set for bits anyway after my dentist friend gave me her winnings), I did it to help our guests enjoy themselves… and myself as well. I did notice a bit of a pattern, though. It seemed my interests tended more towards unhappy or down-on-their-luck stallions… and in one case, a mare. Much like what happened with my dentist and cowcolt friends, if I saw a pony not enjoying themselves, I automatically gravitated towards them and did what I could to perk their spirits up; help them have fun. In at least three instances… that was how I did so. And they were always grateful—if a little surprised—for it, one stallion remarking to me that he never dreamed he’d have a ’what happens in Las Pegasus stays in Las Pegasus’ moment until I came along! Looking back, it was a pattern that would later carry over into my time with Gentlemen. My ‘recruiting’ techniques have gotten me in hot water on more than one occasion, but it’s usually pretty simple the way it happens: I see an unhappy human male, I want to help them… show them a good time and the kind of life they can have if they so choose. If that’s “seducing them into my lifestyle”, as I’ve heard others so disdainfully or sneeringly refer to it, then so be it. I don’t do it just for myself; I do it for them and for other mares. Another Gentleman means another happy human and more happy mares. But that was still years away. After a month more in the serving trenches, Rising Star called me into her office to discuss my future at the Mystique. She had told me on New Year’s Eve that she wanted to see me succeed as server before she began moving me up, and she was now satisfied I had done so, asking me what I wanted to do next. I told her I wanted to start making the climb through the ranks, and asked her what she saw for me. She smiled broadly like she was all but ready to adopt me, saying that she was looking forward to ‘grooming me to eventually take her place’. Though flattered (and a little frightened!) by the suggestion—me, running an entire resort?—I set my sights a little lower first. A casino resort was a far cry from even a high-end Manehattan hotel like the Shemareaton, after all, and if I was going to move into management or even my old post as concierge, I wanted to first experience everything—do all the low-level jobs so I could truly understand how the place operated and what it took to run it. Though surprised by the request, Rising Star eagerly acceded and began shuffling me around, rounding out my skills by giving me month-long stints as a bartender, card dealer, and guest check-in. I learned each job quickly and did them without protest and with aplomb, swiftly learning what I needed to (I still amaze Gentlemen when they see how well I can shuffle and deal cards with just my hooves!), proving I could do each job and do it well before moving on. My big break came when the feather flu swept through the pegasi staff in early April and we lost two of our three concierges for a week. I reminded Rising Star I’d held the position before, so she gave me a try at it. I did it so well I kept the job afterwards, becoming second-shift concierge. The position entitled me to hotel lodging, getting me out of the seedy motel I was staying in and into much better environs. In fact, as winter turned to spring (not much of a Winter Wrap Up needed in the desert!), I was doing as well as or even better than I had back in Manehattan… Except for the fact I didn’t have a herd. But that was deliberate on my part. There wasn’t much point in me trying to find a herd or herd stallion until I could help provide for one and had made a name for myself. Yet, now that I more or less had… I found myself hesitating, making excuses not to. I’d seen enough dumped and jilted mares at that point that I was worried that the same thing might happen to me, and truth be told, I was rather enjoying my time in the trenches and the occasional encounter with guests. I’d notched nights with three more stallions and another mare to that point, the latter during my latest heat (would you believe that pegasus server from next door I made out with on New Year’s Eve?), and enjoyed them all. So why change what was working for me? In truth, I would probably have kept putting it off indefinitely… but then something happened to not just me, but my entire nation. Something that reminded us all of how fleeting and ephemeral life can be… of what you have and what you don’t… And how everything you know and love can come crashing down when you least expect it. A Royal Wedding Spring was well underway as April began, and business on the Street was somewhat slow—it had been the same in Manehattan; at that time of the year we were in the long lull between Royals Day (celebrating the birthdays of the Princesses) and Remembrance Day in late May, which is a holiday that marks the armistice of Equestria’s long-ago war with the Gryphon Kingdom… and the unofficial start of the summer vacation and tourist season. Which is not to say there weren’t some notable events happening in Equestria during that time. As mid-April approached, the newspapers and tabloids were filled with articles about the impending nuptials between one of our (then) three pony princesses and Shining Armor, captain of the Canterlot Royal Guard. What was especially noteworthy (and cause of some consternation) was that he was not taking a herd—just her. They would become what my parents were; a ‘matched pair’ consisting of but a single stallion and mare. And for once, the papers weren’t so snarky about it, calling them neither selfish or accusing them of engaging in ‘inharmonious practices’ for it. Then again, you hardly can when the relationship in question involves your Princess of Love and the Captain of the Royal Guard… who also happened to be the older brother of the Sun Princess’ prized pupil (nepotism? I wasn’t the only one to wonder, but from all reports, he more than earned his rank… and definitively proved it that day). The wedding was scheduled one warm Saturday morning in mid-April. They had live unicorn-fed feeds set up on The Street and in the casinos so ponies and other interested parties could watch the proceedings in real time via transmitted telepathy; we were literally watching the wedding through the eyes of ponies present—I don’t even want to think how much magic and how many unicorns that must have taken to pull off (and you humans can transmit and record video with ease using your technology? You have no idea how good you have it!) Regardless, we’d all wondered if our ageless alicorn rulers could in fact love a mortal. On this day… we learned they could, and just how much. All activity in the casino and out of the Street came to a halt as the moment of the marriage approached; pony and non-pony alike turning to watch the projected images. It was a scene out of a storybook as our Princess of Love, Mi Amore Cadenza was led down the aisle in bridal dress and veil with three button-cute fillies preceding her, tossing flowers as she went… her paramour awaiting in full dress uniform on the elevated end of the hallway, Princess Celestia and a slew of rather colorful mares waiting at his side. There was one notable absence, however, remarked upon in passing—the Sun Princess’ personal protégé, a violet unicorn (and future alicorn) named Twilight Sparkle was not present, and a few guests and coworkers openly wondered why. We got an answer quickly as a sudden cry to stop was heard, the eyes we were watching through turning to behold… an undressed and dirty Twilight Sparkle, head lowered and eyes blazing with anger. That was surprising enough, but you can imagine our shock as a far more filthy and disheveled Princess Mi Amore Cadenza followed her in on shaky legs, announcing she was the true bride and Princess, and the one at the altar was a Changeling imposter! The fact was verified as the bride’s face contorted in fury and her horn suddenly erupted in a pillar of green magic, transforming herself to reveal… a large shiny black being with antennae and gossamer moth-like wings attacked to a pony-like body… though there was no mistaking her for one with her glistening black chitin, sickly green eyes, hooves with holes in them, wickedly crooked horn and wild blue mane that gave her a very evil and demonic appearance. In true supervillian fashion, she announced herself as the Queen of the Changelings and outlined her plans in what sounded like a very rehearsed monologue (and I thought that only happened in bad movies and cheap comic books!), announcing her intention to conquer Canterlot, have her army feed off the love of her citizens, and then use the stolen power to take all of Equestria. The crowd at the wedding recoiled and so did we watching remotely… was she insane? Did she truly believe she could pull that off in the face of the Royal Guard, to say nothing of Celestia herself, who was standing right there listening? As if reading our thoughts, the Sun Princess stepped forward, her head lowered as she rather dryly pointed that by revealing herself, the queen had exposed herself as well. Ponies stepped back as the two rulers turned to face each other. Announcing she would defend her subjects, Princess Celestia took flight on her massive alabaster wings and her horn ignited, launching a powerful beam of magic at her changeling opponent, who responded with a green-tinged beam of her own. “Kick her flank, Celestia!” I heard somepony shout, and for a moment, it seemed she would easily as their energy attacks intersected, our regent initially appearing to gain the upper hoof. But it was all too fleeting. The crowd fell silent as the beam was slowly forced back on the Sun Princess, a look of shock on her face as she watched it approach her glowing horn. The last thing we saw before the feed from inside the palace was cut was Celestia overpowered and thrown back hard, her crown knocked from her head. * * * * * I don’t know if humans or even non-ponies can understand exactly how it felt to witness that… to see our proud nation under attack and watch one of the pillars of our existence struck down. To witness one of our leaders, who we saw as goddesses felled, our capital city invaded by an enemy we’d barely heard of or cared about, but who now promised to bring us all to our knees. There were a few more brief but very chaotic moments of vision from unicorns outside the palace, showing glimpses of a shattered defensive shield, hundreds of changeling soldiers raining down from the skies and quickly overcoming all resistance, the Royal Guard caught flat-hooved and unable to effectively fight back when they couldn’t tell friend from shapeshifting foe. Within minutes, all feed was lost and all attempts to reestablish contact with Canterlot failed. We stood stunned watching the now empty screens, unable to believe what we had just witnessed. And so the rest of that horrible day went. The game tables were empty and the streets deserted as we all huddled inside, unable to do anything but wait and pray, not knowing what was happening or what we could do. We all congregated around dragonfire dispatch stations awaiting news and for some, trying unsuccessfully to contact relatives in Canterlot. A thousand miles from the battle raging in Equestria’s capital, news was sparse and the rumor mill ran wild. We variously heard that Canterlot had fallen, The Royal Guard was crushed, Celestia and Luna were dead, the Elements of Harmony were defeated, and Shining Armor himself was now a mindless slave and consort to the Changeling Queen, who, we feared, would shortly be dispatching her shapeshifting minions to conquer all of Equestria… And if the Royal Guard and Celestia could not stand up to them, how in the name of our vanquished rulers could WE? It was like we were facing not just the end of our nation, but the end of the world itself. If Celestia and Luna were truly gone, what would happen to the sun and moon? Would we die a frozen death or would Queen Chrysalis (we only learned her name later) assume their powers and use them to make sure we couldn’t challenge her? What would happen to our country, if not the entire planet? Were there changelings among us at that moment, leeching off our love? How would we even know if there were? Disasters and attacks tend to bring out the best and worst of folks, pony or no, and it was no different here; I saw everything from petty attempts to steal money and merchandise to a massive minotaur who’d been giving a self-help seminar looking after a frightened foal separated from her mother. Some ponies were passive but others urged action; many pegasi in particular urged us to form militias and march on Canterlot immediately, suicidal though that seemed. Their fighting blood up, some pegasi didn’t wait for word before taking flight for Cloudsdale (never mind they couldn’t possibly fly that far), determined to do what they could to help. It might have all turned into anarchy had it not been for Rising Star. To our great relief, she took command of the situation immediately, organizing her security teams to keep order both in the casino and out on the surrounding plaza; within an hour she and her fellow hotel managers had The Street more or less secure. Thankfully, we had a couple Wonderbolts in town on leave, and they quickly organized the Las Pegasus police and weather teams into a defense force, giving the greater city some semblance of order again and preventing any mass outbreaks of chaos or looting. Also helping the effort was the elite griffin Silver Wings aerial performance team, on a goodwill tour of Equestria and spending the week in Las Pegasus. Far from just performers, they were also veteran and experienced wind knights in their nation’s military, and lent their skills to the cause here. The sight of them flying overhead was reassuring and their presence, to borrow a griffin phrase, was ancestor-sent, but also drove home the point that outside of the Royal Guard, we ponies had no standing military. The only ones that did were the griffins, whose nation lay overseas and it would take weeks for them to muster enough force to retake Canterlot. If the worst should happen, there might not even be an Equestria to save by then. In the face of such fears and doubt, Rising Star was a rock, going from pony to pony, worker to guest, offering assurance and comfort, making sure we were all occupied with various tasks (mine was basically my regular job—seeing to the needs and comfort of our guests). She had our kitchens and lounges open and serving a steady stream of snacks and comfort food for free, but forbade alcohol consumption, ordering all stocks put under strict lock and key, worried (quite rightly) that adding drink to the mix would just make a bad situation worse. She was everywhere, it seemed, always teleporting on scene when you needed her, even personally breaking up a couple fights with her magic, giving the combatants a dressing-down that made their ears burn. It was especially impressive given I knew by then she had family in Canterlot, including her son, two daughters and the mares of her former herd. A widow, her herd had broken up following their stallion’s death some six years earlier, though she apparently kept in close touch with her former herdmates. But if she was worried about them, she didn’t let it show. Many tense hours passed without any word. Then suddenly, as evening fell contact with Canterlot was reestablished and Celestia’s voice was heard clearly in our heads via relayed telepathic magic, reassuring us all that the Changelings were defeated and both she and her sister were safe. We were shown a recorded memory of bride and groom uniting, using the sheer power of their love to activate an enchantment that expelled the changeling army and their queen from Canterlot, flinging them to the far corners of the kingdom… You know, if anypony had told me before such a corny thing could ever happen, I’d’ve told them to pull their heads out of their plots and face the real world. But on this day… the power of love was real, and it did save us all. * * * * * The brief war was over, but the victory celebration had just begun. To say we were relieved would be an understatement as we watched the wedding—the real one, that is—finally take place at dusk in a visibly battered but unbowed Canterlot, followed by the reception (rather interesting and reassuring to see Celestia and Luna dance!) The day and our nation saved, the patrols and curfew were lifted, our bars and restaurants were thrown open, food and drink were declared free for the night, and the entire city of Las Pegasus erupted into an open-air Street party the likes of which usually only happened on New Year’s Eve. I took back on the role of bartender and server for the occasion, eagerly filling food and drink orders in my concierge outfit while actively partaking in the party myself, drinking and flirting freely and even thinking this might be a good time to find some lucky stallion to celebrate with properly. But before I could, I realized there was somepony missing from the festivities. A Manager, Mare and Mother Where is Rising Star? I suddenly asked myself as the clock struck 1am and the party continued unabated. I wasn't the only one to wonder; there’d been some hope she’d engage in another… show with the Palisades manager next door, who had been seen out on the street partaking in the festivities herself. As I delivered fresh drinks into the plaza, I could see my manager sitting behind her desk in her fourth-floor office that overlooked the plaza, head down and not moving. Wondering why she wasn’t participating in the celebration after all she had done for us, I told my coworkers I was going up to check on her. Arriving at her office only to find it guarded by two buffalo security bulls, I asked politely if I could see her—I’d certainly been up to her office often enough lately that her security teams knew me quite well—but they told me apologetically she’d left instructions that she wanted to be alone. As if on cue, a muffled sobbing was heard; visibly worried for their boss, the bulls relented and let me pass. “Rising Star?” I called to her tentatively as I entered. She looked up, startled at my entrance, her mane and uniform disheveled and eyes bloodshot. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you joining the party?” I asked, very concerned. In response, she pushed a pair of crumpled parchment pages at me with a hoof, seemingly too spent or distraught to levitate them with her magic. I recognized from their letterhead they were dispatches from the Canterlot Post Office. Remembering that she had family in the capital city, my guts clenched as I picked up and uncrumpled them, certain they held some horrible news… I’m very happy and relieved to say it was anything but. The first was a very brief dragonfire-sent missive from her eldest daughter, reassuring her mother she and her siblings were safe and sound; the second was from a former herdmate, saying she and the other two mares of their former herd were also alive and well. The Changelings, we later understood, didn’t want to kill ponies, just to feed on our love for each other—and they needed us alive to do so. But in the fear and shock of the day, we didn’t know that, and for those who had friends and family potentially caught in the crossfire between the Changeling Army and the Royal Guard… it had been a harrowing day indeed. It was only then I realized how harrowing as I beheld Rising Star, my mentor and mother figure, the mare who had gifted me with a new outlook, the rock on which we had all relied during that terrible time… now sobbing like a baby as she received late word her foals and former herdmates were safe. All the fears and emotions and she’d held in the whole day came pouring out uncontrollably now that it was over, and I couldn’t help but tear up as well to see it, immediately going to her side and taking her into an embrace. I held her in silence, saying nothing. For what could I say? How could I know what it was to be a mother fearful for the fates of her children? How could I know what it was to worry you’d lost not only your foals but all your former herdmates and lovers in one fell swoop and agonize over their fate for hours? I didn’t. So I did the only thing I could: I hugged her tightly and let her cry on my shoulder for as long as she needed. It seemed to help; after twenty minutes she had finally cried herself out. Once she had composed herself enough, I fixed her a drink and led her outside onto her office balcony so everypony could see her… so she could hear and see their heartfelt gratitude for herself. The assembled staff and guests let out a raucous cheer at her appearance, ponies alternately stomping hooves or rearing up to pinwheel their legs in deep appreciation for her efforts, several pegasi and griffins flying up to give her their thanks firsthoof. She stood there on shaky limbs, just absorbing the acclaim for a minute, before giving the crowd a parting wave and heading back inside. Emotionally and physically spent after that long day, she fell heavily back on her haunches once the blinds were pulled and asked me to help her to bed—her quarters adjoined her office; it was only a short walk yet it was all she could do to get there. She was leaning heavily on me the whole way and stumbled repeatedly; I didn’t really understand how much the day had taken out of her until then. She had to unlock the door to her suite magically and could barely do it, nearly collapsing from the effort—I’d heard that for unicorns, magical exhaustion equated to physical exhaustion and vice-versa, but never had that illustrated for me until that night. Her strength spent, she could go no further, so I picked her up and put her on my back to take her inside her private quarters. She was bigger than me, a large yet elegantly slender unicorn mare, but having the strength of an earth pony I had no trouble carrying her. I’d never seen her private suite before. It was a decent-sized and well-appointed apartment filled with trophies and various mementos of her life, everything from pictures of her foals and old herd—have to say, she had a good-looking stallion—to news clippings and awards from her former career as a singer. Judging by the photographs, she’d made the climb from a simple street performer all the way to manager of the Mystique—a Rising Star indeed!—and even owned a own record company on the side. She was also quite striking in her youth; she had the looks to turn the heads of stallion and mare alike… And still retained a good portion of her allure now, the thought crossed my mind as I helped her into bed and loosened her uniform, trying to stop my thoughts from going in various naughty directions as I bared her long and beautiful orange neck… doing my best not to remember how she’d magically groped my flanks on New Year’s Eve. I’d been using the party to work myself up into a randy mood, looking for a worthy partner… and was suddenly thinking I had one right in front of me, in the form of my manager. I quashed that thought hard, disgusted with myself for thinking it, vowing I would watch over her at least until she fell asleep then quietly depart. * * * * * That plan, like so many others, went swiftly awry. She fell asleep relatively quickly but wasn’t resting well, tossing and turning frequently, breaking into a cold sweat and breathing raggedly like she was having nightmares, her horn occasionally sparking weakly with what little was left of her magic. I’ve heard—and have good reason to believe—that Princess Luna watches over our dreams, but if so she was either overwhelmed or unavailable that night, because Rising Star was finding no relief. My heart breaking as I watched her and held her hoof, I realized she needed company—somepony to hold and mother her—and that I had a choice to make: I could stay and climb into bed with her to fill that role myself, but a voice was warning me that if I did so, something else would likely happen by morning that would ultimately be good for neither of us. Shamefully tempting though the idea was, I knew full well that would be a very bad idea. But if not me, then who…? The answer came to me quickly. It was hardly a secret that Rising Star was in a relationship with Limelight, the unicorn manager of the Palisades next door. Their public displays were rare, but it was clear they cared for each other, and I’d seen Limelight out on the Street earlier. Cracking open the door to her suite, I told the buffalo guards outside that Rising star needed ‘company I couldn’t give’, asking them to go next door to the Palisades and find Limelight. Though surprised by the request, one of the guards immediately departed and I returned to Rising Star’s side, wondering what would happen if they couldn’t find her. In that case, I both hoped and feared… I would accept that as a sign from fate and get into bed with her. I would hold her in my arms and take care of her as she had taken care of me… And what would be would be. * * * * * To my great relief—and if I’m honest, a little disappointment—it never came to that. Less than five minutes later there was a popping sound outside the suite I recognized as a teleport, followed by a gentle knock at the door. With various privacy and security enchantments guarding Rising Star’s private quarters, the door could only be opened from the inside, so I did so, finding Limelight outside. She was surprised—and a little suspicious—to see me there, her eyes narrowing, so I explained quickly what I was doing and what had happened, showing her the dispatches from Canterlot and saying it was me who summoned her, the two buffalo security guards quickly confirming that fact. Apologizing, Limelight thanked me and said she’d take it from there, swiftly undressing herself with her magic as she trotted into the bedroom to be at her lover’s side. Rising star was clearly in the throes of another nightmare as she arrived, huddled in a fetal position and shivering despite her covers. The other unicorn mare broke the spell by nuzzling her counterpart gently, flaring her horn to bathe her mate in the familiar warmth and comfort of her aura. My manager’s teal eyes opened at the contact but appeared very fearful and unfocused. “W-who’s there?” she called out in a foal-like voice, not unlike a frightened filly calling for her mother. “Shhh…” her green-furred Palisades counterpart soothed her, using her touch and aura to drive her lover’s demons away. “It’s Limelight. I’m here and going to take care of you, okay?” she told Rising Star gently, giving her a kiss on the forehead beneath her horn. “L-Limelight…” Rising Star all but sobbed, reaching out for her with trembling hooves. Tears began to flow again as the Palisades manager climbed into bed with her and I withdrew, quietly taking my leave—Limelight holding Rising Star’s head to her chest, catching my eye and mouthing thank you before I departed. I nodded and bowed my head. Take care of her, I mouthed back unnecessarily as I closed the door behind me. I knew she would. * * * * * I left Rising Star’s quarters knowing I’d done the right thing, but still feeling troubled. My mood now considerably more subdued and the party outside winding down, I distracted myself by helping clean up and get a few drunken ponies to bed before grabbing an open bottle of buffalo whiskey and returning to my own room. Sleep did not come easily for me either—in fact, not at all—and as dawn approached I found myself starting out the window sipping at the whiskey (damn, that was some strong stuff!) and reflecting on the previous day’s events. As Celestia’s sun rose on the morning, the world seemed… if not different, at least far less taken for granted than before. Events like the Changeling invasion shock you to your core, let you know how fragile life and all you know really is. It reminds you what’s important and what’s just plain petty, and puts into sharp relief what you have and what you don’t. For me, two things stood out at that moment—I didn’t have my family close by and I didn’t have a mate or herd; there was no Limelight there for me as there was for Rising Star. I couldn’t take care of the latter right away, but I could do something about the former. So after I got off shift the next day, I wrote a long letter and went to the post office, paying the additional fee for dragonfire dispatch—meaning it would arrive at its destination within a day instead of the week it would take to send across Equestria by train. Copies of the letter went out to all my siblings, letting them know where I was and what was happening with me—that I’d lost my previous herd and was now starting over in Las Pegasus, doing well… and I intended to visit them shortly. A still-spent Rising Star made a brief appearance the next day, informing the staff she was taking two weeks’ leave to visit her former herd and family in Canterlot, passing her duties to several trusted floor managers in her stead. The last thing she did before departing was grant my request to do the same, telling me (and several others) to go visit my family and not come back until I’d reconnected with them. “Find them, hold them, and tell them you love them,” were her exact words to us all. Actually, I take that back. There was one more thing she did, That afternoon, she called me into the office to thank me personally for my efforts that night… By giving me a heartfelt hug and a motherly kiss on the forehead before closing up her office and departing for the train station. For those of you disappointed this story didn’t end in intimacy, that’s actually part of the point of me telling it. I don’t deny it could have happened or even that I was thinking about it; that with a nudge here or there I might have ended up in bed with Rising Star and the night could have—no, would have—ended in sex. But thankfully, it did not… and looking back, nor should it have. There is a time and place for rutting, and this wasn’t it. For me to have been with Rising Star that night would have been taking advantage of her emotionally fragile state and inappropriate in the extreme. It would have tainted our still-budding relationship, and, though I have no qualms about being with a guest or Gentleman, doing so with one’s superior or subordinate is simply not a good idea. It leads to favoritism, hurt feelings, lowered morale, poor job performance and ended careers. I’d already lost one herd and career in part because our lead mare was also the hotel manager with professional as well as personal authority over all of us, and she abused it. That is not to say Rising Star was anything like that, but… when it came down to it, it’d been a long time since I had a motherly influence in my life, and ultimately I didn’t want to hurt that. I can well imagine certain colleagues will be surprised to hear me say so, but I do have rules and standards I follow regarding sex, and one of them is that I don’t rut people or ponies that are emotionally compromised and can’t offer their full consent. Since I can hear some scoffing sounds out there, yes, I’ll admit there have been times I’ve violated or at least stretched that rule… and I’ve generally regretted it. The friends I’ve lost or lovers I didn’t keep were when I didn’t follow it. Some lessons you have to learn repeatedly before they finally sink in. I’m just grateful that night with Rising Star wasn’t such a teachable moment. As I conclude this chapter, I’m reminded of some stories gentlemen have told me of clients they visited… but never got intimate with. All some mares wanted or needed was to be held and listened to; all some mares wanted or needed was a shoulder to cry on. Sometimes you need a snuggle and sympathetic ear more than sex. That’s another lesson we trainers pass on; to always see to a mare’s needs and understand just what they need; not try to force intimacy if it’s not called for. As Platinum Corona herself said, the job of a gentlemen is first and foremost to provide companionship—to give care and comfort. And here, that’s what I did. Still, I couldn’t help but feel left out as I went to the train station myself for the trip back east to visit my brother and sisters. That Rising Star and our guests had gotten what they needed that night, but I hadn’t. I needn’t have worried, though. I didn’t yet know it, but my life was about to turn again. > Part 6: Las Pegasi > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – Las Pegasi By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines April 6 issues Editor’s Note: We are currently compiling a list of reader questions for Five Stars to answer. If you would like to participate, please either write a letter to the editor, or for human readers, simply leave a comment on the website. Please note that only serious and thoughtful queries will be accepted. We will utilize a range of viewpoints, but any question deemed insulting or offensive will be ignored. Signed, Hot Topic and Kalido Tema, owner and chief editors, Manehattan Post and New York Life magazines Dear Readers: To my great chagrin, it would seem my sharing of Cayenne’s letter has made him both a celebrity among humans and a pariah among ponies. Whether you think good or ill of him, I would ask that everyone, person or pony please let him be; my publication of his letter was NOT an invitation to invade his life. To my human readers, I reiterate I bare him no ill will—he was and is no coward; it took no small amount of courage to write that letter and sign his name to it. To my pony ones, PLEASE stop making him the face of failed herds and a scapegoat for unsatisfied mares. He was in fact a VERY good lover—better than most stallions and even many humans I’ve known. He genuinely wanted to do right by me and the others but was caught between an abusive lead mare and an oversized herd. Give him credit for owning up to his mistakes and know that I have every intention of one day taking him up on his invitation to visit him on Earth. Friends and Family Two days after the Royal Wedding and the abortive changeling attack on Canterlot, I found myself boarding a train to see my brother and sisters for the first time in nearly a year. It was an odd feeling as I traveled east, almost like I was retracing my route to Las Pegasus, walking backwards through my life. Deserts turned to mountains, then plains, then to the rich forests and hills of the east, now lush with new spring growth. It was certainly a more scenic and less unhappy trip than my last one had been but was still hard to enjoy. Security was tight, almost uncomfortably so with royal guardsponies stationed in every car backed by at least one unicorn who knew the quickly-developed (and initially unreliable) changeling detection spell. Everypony was individually scanned before boarding and all tickets were scrutinized closely, causing delays and frayed tempers, turning a three day trip into four. It also didn’t help that the train stopped in both Appleloosa and another certain town along the way. I found myself craning my neck out the window looking for familiar faces; I very badly wanted to get out and find my cowcolt and dentist lovers again. But I had no way to contact them and also didn’t want my poor cowcolt to think I was stalking him—he’d made clear he wasn’t comfortable with seeing me again, and I was determined to respect that. I finally reached Baltimare four days later, which was where my four siblings lived—we grew up in Manehattan but all except for me had left the city after our parents died. My two younger sisters pounced me as soon as I got off the train and my older brother gave me a huge hug we didn’t break for several minutes—“I’ve been worried sick about you, sis!” he told me through tears (he’s a big softie and I love him for it—he finished raising our younger sisters in our parents’ stead). Even my older sister was civil as she met us for dinner, offering me a perfunctory foreleg hug and refraining from put-downs and snide remarks when I told the full story of what had happened with my herd. When they asked me why I’d kept them in the dark for so long, my brother somewhat accusingly pointing out they’d received no word from me for months, my ears went flat and I told them the truth—that I just couldn’t face telling them. Acknowledging my herd had failed to myself or even a stranger was one thing, announcing it to those who knew and loved me was quite another. I just wanted to get as far away from the pain as possible, I explained, but the changeling invasion had reminded me of the importance of friends and family. “Find them, hold them, tell them you love them,” Rising Star had implored us before she left for Canterlot to visit her own family. I made sure to do so, repeatedly. * * * * * It was a good—and needed—week in Baltimare. I made it a point to spend time with all my siblings (yes, even my older sister) but spent the bulk of my stay with my brother, a dock worker and sailor (he was the oddball in my service-oriented family; mom and dad never seemed to quite know what to do with him). We spent plenty of time together and just talked a lot. He wanted to know what I now saw for myself being between herds and starting over; I answered truthfully by saying I still wasn’t sure but believed I belonged in Las Pegasus for now. He later asked if he could—or even should—visit me out in Las Pegasus sometime, and my response was something along the lines of, “feel free, but come to have fun and don’t count on keeping your bits!” He was a little dubious, saying he’d been gambling in nearby Antlertic City with his coworkers, but I shook my head and told him to trust me—that I’d been to both places and there was no comparison at all. He was still skeptical… until he finally did come out my way. And I’ll never forget the look on his face when he stepped off that train and beheld The Street for the first time… But that’s a story for later. My week in Baltimare done, I bade my brother and sisters farewell with the promise I would stay in touch from there on out. But before heading back west, I had one more stop to make, taking a short detour north. I wasn’t willing to return to Manehattan—the memories and hurt remained; I knew just the sight of the city would bring them all back—but I did want to see Willow and Snow Lily again, asking them to come halfway and meet me outside of Fillydelphia. They did so, and many hugs and tears were exchanged as we saw each other for the first time in five months. After swapping stories over a nice dinner about what happened during the changeling invasion, we caught up over drinks in the lounge afterwards, filling each other on what had been going on in our lives. Things with Cayenne’s herd were getting steadily worse, I was told, with Cayenne run ever-more ragged and Autumn getting ever-more intolerable, both towards her herdmates and towards her hotel staff in general. “She was paranoid to begin with, but the invasion made her even worse—she’s treating us all like crap or potential changelings now,” Snow Lily shook her head, adding that staff morale was falling and guest services was suffering for it. I can’t say I was surprised, but told them that if the worst should happen, to get in touch with me—that I could definitely find them work in Las Pegasus. “It’s a very… welcoming place,” I noted, a little coyly. They saw the gleam in my eyes and sensed I’d had some fun, demanding details. So I told them about my winter holidays. They were both almost giddy when I finished the stories, a visibly wistful Willow saying she would VERY much like to meet my dentist friend, and Snow Lily listening with envy as I described New Year’s night with my cowcolt lover, demanding I send a picture of myself wearing his vest. I did so after I got back. I imagine they got a good laugh out of it. As my train didn’t leave until the next day, they invited me to stay with them in their hotel room that night “for old time’s sake,” but I declined. I knew it would be fun, I knew I would enjoy the sex and snuggling. But when it came down to it, that was simply not an emotional door I wanted to open again; it would pull me back and not let me move forward. My life and potential lovers were in Las Pegasus now, and that was where I belonged. Once again, they tearfully saw me off from the train station the next morning. I was crying too—it was an eerie and uncomfortable feeling as we parted again; it was hard not to have flashbacks to the night I left the herd. But this time, I wasn’t fleeing an old life… I was returning to a new one. A Changed City I came back to find Las Pegasus had changed quite a bit in my absence, and not for the better. Much like the train ride, Security checkpoints were now present all over The Street; police and royal guardsponies stationed throughout—in all honesty, I found their presence more oppressive than reassuring—and everypony that entered the casinos or a major show or event was required to undergo a rather intrusive magical scan to ensure they weren’t changelings in disguise. In fairness, it was not without some cause—we had learned by then there were changelings among us, including to my shock, a pair of rather popular servers I knew and had even been friends with. Northern Lights and Moonglow, as they had called themselves, had been disguised as twin sister unicorn server mares and were known for being particular flirty and frisky, bedding a different guest just about every week. Northern Lights in particular had teased me good-naturedly about my cowcolt friend quite regularly after New Year’s, though it wasn’t until much later I got what she meant when she told me she “envied my ability to pick out loving and worthy partners,” looking quite wistful as she said it. She and her sister vanished the day of the invasion; it was the same story throughout the city as there were dozens of reports of workers, friends, lovers, and even in some cases, spouses suddenly disappearing without a trace. All Changelings, it would seem, though we couldn’t know for certain. In the case of those two, we knew because Rising Star found a letter scroll waiting on her desk inside her magically locked and protected office when she returned from Canterlot, apparently jointly written by the pair. Though in consternation that a changeling had defeated her anti-intrusion enchantments to gain access to her office, Rising Star shared the letter with all us, posting it on the staff bulletin board and distributing copies throughout the hotel. In it, Northern Lights and Moonglow said their real names were Aurora and Corona (thus trying to make the point that changelings weren’t just mindless, nameless drones) and apologized for the attack on Canterlot, insisting that the vast majority of changelings were no threat and would never hurt anypony. “Why would we want to injure or antagonize those whose love we need to survive?” the letter asked pointedly, saying that Chrysallis had acted alone without the knowledge or consent of the other Changeling hives but now they were ALL being punished for it… their hives and young starving after being forced into hiding, cut off from the love that was their source of life. There was a bitter note in their letter that came through even on ink, and their words had a grain of truth in them, I suppose. But after witnessing the changeling assault on Canterlot, we were in no mood for such protestations, and such claims fell upon deaf ears. It was a very paranoid time, and, much like what happened to thestrels after Nightmare Moon’s return, innocent ponies ended up getting swept up in aftermath on mere suspicion of being changelings. Until unicorns deployed a hastily-developed changeling detection spell, we had no way of knowing. And even then, the spell wasn’t perfect—several dozen ponies and one or two griffins got wrongly accused, either because the spell was a false positive (it turned out eating excessive sweets, particularly mint chocolate could set it off!) and in at least one case, scan results were deliberately falsified as a form of payback by a grudge-bearing unicorn guard. Not our finest moments as a nation or species. A New Interest As the weeks passed, things settled down. The detection spell was more fully developed and improved to the point that scans were much quicker and could be done to entire crowds instead of individuals, and security loosened back up as there were no further changeling-related incidents. Life returned more or less to normal as we reached Remembrance Day and the start of the summer tourist season, ponies and griffins alike standing still and observing a minute of silence to mark the armistice of our long-ago war. For myself, I was keeping my promise and now looking for a new herd in earnest, and it was shortly thereafter a new stallion—or actually a pair of them—caught my eye: a dark blue pegasus male with a fiery red mane, violet eyes and poker-hand cutie mark named Royal Flush, and his twin brother, a red pegasus with blue mane and green eyes adorned with a two-card cutie mark named Blackjack. As their names and marks might suggest (names are destiny, remember), they ran the Mystique Poker Room and 21 tables respectively, looking not unlike the red and blue-backed card decks their tables dealt to patrons. They were definitely my physical type—big and sleek pegasi (Don’t know why, but I’ve always had a weakness for winged males!) who kept themselves in shape, accomplished in their professions and comfortable in their own hooves. They also had a rather friendly rivalry going, occasionally sitting down to play each other in poker and other games. I was further surprised to learn from a bartender I worked with that they had a shared herd of four mares. Multi-stallion herds are somewhat rare but not unheard of among ponies. They tend to be more common amongst the very wealthy and very poor, for different reasons—the former because wealth makes it easier to keep multi-household herds, the latter because you need that many ponies to pay bills in a single household. I should also add that stallion births being rare and blessed events in ponydom, twin stallions are considered a gift from the sun and moon goddesses themselves; an incredible stroke of luck to the mare mother who bears them. I’ve known a couple such twins and can say from experience that such males tend to be coddled from colthood and grow up very pampered and poor-mannered for it. Not so these two, which only piqued my interest further. They were friendly enough, stern but fair to their dealers and always remembered that their guests were there to have fun. They were generous with their comps (The Mystique buffet is to DIE for) and pleasant to their players, but woe to those they caught cheating… they weren’t afraid of anypony and had no qualms about getting physical or ejecting unruly patrons themselves, even facing down a group of drunk and rowdy young griffin tiercels that were causing trouble and harassing guests one Saturday night in mid-May. They proved their wings weren’t just for show when they accepted a challenge to engage the male predators in an aerial duel over The Street, to the consternation of all mares present. We needn’t have worried. They took a few slashes but proved superb flyers and bested their griffin opponents in fine fashion, knocking them into the lake in front of the Buffalagio. After the humiliation of being shown in up in the air by a couple of ‘leaf-eaters’, the four tiercels never showed their faces at the Mystique again. Stallions willing to put themselves in harm’s way are rare, I thought as I helped out with another such episode, tackling and pinning a pegasus mare who snatched some chips from a 21 table and tried to make a getaway by air (there’s a reason the ceilings are low by the entrance!), closely pursued by the pair. I think it was only then they really noticed me themselves. They chatted with me briefly, and I asked them when they got off shift—the usual prelude to a mare asking a stallion out on a date. Somewhat surprised, they appraised me for a moment—favorably, it would seem—and agreed to meet me for drinks later that night, recommending The Prancing Pinto lounge across The Street at the Palamino. Though I found the place a little pricy (then again, what ISN’T on The Street?), I did what mares are supposed to do for stallions on a first date—bought them their drinks and let them talk about themselves. That can quickly get rather boring, but they were surprisingly interesting to listen to. It turned out they’d taken a rather… checkered past that befit their red-and-blue coats; both were former players that had once taken casinos for a ride. “We were card cheats,” Royal Flush told me straight up. “Nopony thought pegasi could do what we did, so we got away with it for a while,” he said, pulling out a deck of cards, shuffling it in his hooves with an ease and grace that put my own skills to shame and dealing out a poker hand to the three of us. He flipped his cards face-up to show… four sevens. His brother had a full house, Aces over Jacks. And me… I turned my cards over to find… a five-high straight flush, in hearts, leaving me openmuzzled, certain it had to be an enchanted deck—and alarms would sound if you brought one anywhere near a casino table. “No magic,” RF read my mind and assured me with a white-toothed grin that stood out sharply against his dark blue coat. “Just a lot of practice.” “And a little sleight-of-hoof,” Blackjack added, showing his own skill by waving a wing over the table. I blinked, and the red deck cards turned blue. Seeing my surprise, he turned his wing up to show… the red cards carefully hidden and camouflaged in between his equally red pinions, a rack of blue cards nestled in his secondaries. Another wave of his wing, and he’d laid down a pair of A-J blackjacks, the cards almost perfectly matching his cutie mark. Needless to say, I was impressed. As they continued their story, I made a guess and suggested the reason they were so good at flying, then, was because they’d had to make quick getaways to dodge pursuing pegasi and spellcasting unicorn guards. Their grins answered for them. “But as good as we were… we got cocky and finally got caught. Casinos wised up to us and we eventually got ourselves blacklisted in Antlertic City and Neighagra”, Blackjack explained with no little pride, going on detail how they’d finally gone straight after a few stints in jail and been given a second chance by Rising Star, their employment and cleared records conditional on keeping their noses clean. Two years later, they had. Now running the games they once ruled at, they took their greatest pleasure in finding and busting cheats—being former ones themselves, they knew all the tricks and what to look for. They didn’t play much themselves any longer, occasionally entering a poker or 21 tournament for charity or bragging rights, but that was fine with them—they were living the high life legally now and still got a healthy dose of excitement for it when they had to run down a thief or face down a group of drunken griffins. To my surprise, they then wanted to know a little about me, noting my Manehattan accent and airs, even asking me how I gained my cutie mark (story for another time, sorry!) and its meaning. Initially, I gave them only an abbreviated version of my story, saying I’d had a herd back in Manehattan and it hadn’t worked out. But after a few drinks my lips were loosened, so when they asked why I had left, I broke down and told them the whole story of my first herd… of Cayenne, of Autumn Leaf and what had happened the day Discord returned. They both stiffened at the chaos god’s mention, falling silent and looking pointedly away from each other. Seeing their reaction I dropped the subject as well—clearly, whatever had happened to them that day, they didn’t want to remember it. When I finished my tale, the two males were aghast and offered—no, demanded—to pick up my tab. It was a welcome gesture—stallions don’t usually treat mares like that. When all was said and done, the evening went well, and they both indicated they would like to ‘see more of me’. As I returned to my well-appointed Mystique hotel room, I laid back on the bed, unable to believe my luck. I’d barely started looking for a new herd, and already had a pair of attractive stallions interested… and two brothers, at that? Two ex-felon brothers who were con artists and card cheats, I mentally corrected myself, wondering how far removed from that life they really were. What are you getting yourself into Five Stars? I asked myself, uncertain if they could really be trusted or were what I really wanted. As I thought more about them and saw them a few more times, I was increasingly convinced they were. They were lookers and they knew it, not afraid to flaunt it either. I’d met plenty of interesting and attractive stallions before; even bedded a few since New Year’s, but these two… they were different. They were edgy, to borrow another human phrase. A couple of bad boys that a decade earlier my parents would never have approved of me seeing, but there was no question that was part of their allure. It wasn’t just that, though. Much like I’d told my cowcolt over New Years, my interest in large part stemmed from the fact that unlike so many other Las Pegasi, these two were real. They didn’t hide their identity or make any apologies for their past; they didn’t pretend to be something they weren’t. That counted (and still does) a lot with me, and the fact that Rising Star had redeemed them said a lot for them well. If she thought they were at heart good ponies, there was no doubt in my mind they were. And so, just two weeks later… I bought a pair of golden flowers from the hotel florist and presented them to the pair that night. * * * * * Our courtship proceeded at a slow but steady clip over the next several months. We got together for lunch, then dinner, and then I started meeting the other mares of their herd and found them a rather eclectic, but tolerable bunch. Windfall, the earth pony slots mechanic. Cocktail, the unicorn bartender, though I knew her from my own stint as one. Bluegrass, an earth pony singer with a country voice. Madcap, a pegasus acrobat and show performer with a flair for theatrics. We had a few girls’ nights out interspersed with my dates with the two boys, and found we seemed to get along well enough. As I got to know them, I remembered well the lessons of my previous herd—too many mares, an overbearing lead mare—and this new herd seemed to solve those issues. I quickly realized they had only a very loose herd hierarchy; there was no real lead mare and certainly no Autumn Leaf in their mix. “The only rules we have are that we share RF and Jackie equally, and that we respect each other’s privacy and pitch in when somepony needs help,” Cocktail told me. I heartily approved of such sentiment—to me, that was exactly what a herd should be! Better still, instead of one stallion servicing four mares, it’d be two serving five with my potential addition—a much better and more manageable stallion-to-mare ratio. There’d certainly be no problems with getting enough attention from these two, I was assured; they made it a point to not play favorites and keep their mares happy. “They’re… fun…” was all I could get out of the four mares when I finally got up the nerve to ask how good the brothers were in bed, though Cocktail blushed hard as she said it. “But you’ll find that out for yourself,” Madcap assured me, giving me a knowing grin. The foursome refused to say any more—they didn’t want to ‘spoil the surprise’ I later learned. For the time being, I took that to mean the boys were a little kinky, but hey… considering some of the things I’d done since arriving in Las Pegasus, so was I! (Ah, Five Stars… once again, your naivety would know no bounds.) Rising Star soon noticed my interest, calling me into her office to discuss matters and give me a bit of motherly advice about dealing with the pair (“They don’t play by the rules, Five Stars. Don’t expect them to be traditional stallions,” I remember her saying) and entering a workplace herd. It was good advice too; some of which I really wish I’d known before joining my previous one. In the end, she gave me her blessing but advised me to take it slow and make absolutely sure it was what I wanted; I think—but don’t know for certain—she had some private talks with RF and Blackjack about me as well. So, slow we took it, trying to make sure it was the right thing for all of us… that there would be no unhappy surprises waiting upon my entry into their herd. A Night on the Town… It finally happened in late summer as September rolled around, and with it the Dedication Day holiday that, along with Remembrance Day in May, bookended the summer vacation season. Royal Flush and Blackjack didn’t make quite the production of inviting me into the herd that Cayenne had, but it was still a very happy surprise when it happened. That Friday afternoon, I was called from the concierge desk on the pretense that an emergency needed my immediate attention over in the hotel atrium. And there, in front of the waterfalls, I found both Blackjack and Royal Flush dressed to the nines in expensive evening wear and wearing the flowers I had offered them, their other mares in attendance as they presented me with their red-and-blue feathers attached to a clip (in the form of a purple Mystique 500-bit casino chip!). Rising Star was there as well to give the union her blessing, looking like a mother giving away her daughter, and all activity in the casino briefly stopped as everypony’s attention turned on us. The crowd, which consisted of both guests and staff, clopped and stomped their hooves in approval as I accepted their feathers with wet eyes and shaking hooves, clipping them both to my mane along with flowers from their other mares, who, I quickly checked and noticed, all seemed genuinely happy at my entry into the herd. We all posed for a picture with myself at the center flanked by my two new stallions, their wings symbolically flared over me as I struggled to keep my tears in check. With that, Rising Star presented me with the key to their shared hotel suite, and announced that we’d all been given the long holiday weekend off, effective immediately. “Show her a good time,” Rising Star ordered the pair as she gave me a wink. “And treat her well,” she further instructed, in a slightly more admonishing tone. “Yes, Ma’am…” they both grinned, though I thought I heard a mischievous note in their voices. “Well, you heard the boss. Let’s go, Five Stars,” Blackjack told me, gently urging me forward with his wing. “Go… where?” I asked, thinking they were going to take me back to their suite to consummate the union immediately and not altogether certain I was ready for that—kind of odd considering my willingness to jump into bed with a guest, but this… well, this was commitment, and it took a bit of a mental adjustment on my part. “Out,” Royal Flush replied with his trademark toothy grin. “I mean, all this time in Las Pegasus, and you still haven’t had a night on the town?” he said with a tsk-tsking sound. “We’re going to have to fix that, brother!” “Agreed,” Blackjack agreed with a smile of his own. “But first… I think you’re a little underdressed, Five Stars,” he said as he somewhat suggestively pulled open my uniform vest with his teeth, giving me a quick little nibble on my neck as he did so. My breath caught and cheeks flushed at the unexpected action; it was all I could do to hold still as the pair began to undress me—wait, did he say underdressed? Indeed. After I was helped out of my uniform—which Rising Star forbade me to wear again until my honeymoon was over—they took me over to a high-end clothing store in the resort’s shopping wing, where two rather effeminate-looking stallions (they almost HAD to be colt-cuddlers!) fussed over me, having me try on outfit after outfit. I didn’t get what the big deal was, but they finally found a glittering purple ensemble that both complimented my colors (it also helped that purple was the symbolic mixing of the red and blue coats of my stallions!) and nicely emphasized my neck and earth pony curves. Have to say, I’d never really understood the allure or purpose of wearing clothes outside of work and formal occasions (aside from my uniforms, my entire wardrobe consisted of ONE dress meant for balls and the like)… but I have to admit I really did look good in it. And judging by how my two new herd stallions were ogling me, I wasn’t the only one to think so. Wow… who’d’ve ever thought that wearing clothes could make one MORE sexy? I asked myself as I turned from side to side, admiring myself in the mirror, noting how the high-cut hip showed just a subtle hint of flank, riding just high enough to expose my cutie marks. But that’s one of the allures of Gentlemen, I know now. Since humans are always clothed and tend to leave things to the imagination, there’s more mystery and magic about them… There’s also the joys of undressing them, as I would learn for the first time later that night. They next took me to the Mystique hairstylist, who added some sparkle and style to my short-cut mane and tail, including darker highlights that really drew attention to my curly locks. Lastly, we visited the jewelry store, where I was given a gorgeous diamond necklace and a pair of matching earrings, though I demurred on the foreleg bracelets. These places were expensive but Royal Flush and Blackjack paid for everything—I once again emphasize it’s usually the mares who are buying for the stallion, not the other way around! And with my eveningwear ensemble completed, we were finally—finally—ready to hit the town hard. * * * * * As we departed the Mystique, I felt like the luckiest mare on the planet, escorted and attended to by two gorgeous stallions. Royal Flush had said I hadn’t had a night on the town, and he was right—for all the time I’d been there, with the mild exception of Hearth’s Warming, I hadn’t really actually experienced the place… not as guest would, anyway. It was the first time I’d really gotten to explore the city since I’d arrived nearly ten months earlier, and my two new stallions knew all the good spots. It seemed everypony and their sister knew them wherever they went, and they made sure to introduce me to them as well. Never ones to be shy, they were announcing our pairing quite loudly and proudly, allowing and even encouraging me to show them off. I’m a little embarrassed to say I did so; I saw the looks of longing and envy on the faces of other mares as we walked down The Street and ate them up. They first took me gambling down the street at the Buffalagio—as terms of their probation, they weren’t allowed to play any card games, but that still left the dice tables. I did surprisingly well (beginners luck; I won’t say different), and had a great time, leaving with a large stack of chips. I didn’t keep them long, but I didn’t care, spending them on my two stallions and myself. Here’s a helpful hint for anypony visiting Las Pegasus—like I told my brother, you’ll have a much better time if you assume the bits you bring will be gone by the end. Spend your bits to have fun as opposed to make money, and you’ll be happy. So it was here. We worked our way down The Street, hitting restaurants, bars and nightclubs as we went. We ate, we gamed, we drank, we danced—to be sure, it took a lot of the former before I’d do the latter—and as midnight rolled around we took in a rather exclusive show at the Grande. As a wedding present, Rising Star gave us tickets to the premiere of Silverwing, the long-awaited film adaptation of a very popular mare-oriented adventure/romance book, even managing to get us a private booth—that plus the long weekend were why the brothers chose that particular day to accept me into the herd. And everypony was very anxious to see if they got that scene right… Considering the fact I was ready to tuck my two stallions right then and there as I watched it unfold, I’d say they did. The filmmakers brought that fantasy to life in fine fashion, and judging by the sounds coming from the booth next to ours… I wasn’t the only one to think so. In truth, it was rather hard for any of us to ignore the sounds of fevered rutting coming from next booth over—it sounded like a pair of mares were going at it hard—and all three of us started pushing closer together, my two males showing their own excitement quite grandly as the sounds made themselves known and the scene unfolded, even moving their forelegs back to give me almost teasing looks at their stallionhoods poking out hard from their bellies. As I studied them, I couldn’t help but laugh—even their organs were color-reversed from each other! Blackjack had a black shaft with pink mottling, Royal Flush, black spots against a pink backdrop. They were certainly well-endowed, with their shafts running at around eight inches apiece (though as I so often remind my Gentlemen trainees, it’s not your size; it’s how well you use it that matters!), and as the scene went on and I found myself looking down to see two stiff and partially flared heads staring me in the face, my thoughts got decidedly naughty. Maybe it was the lingering alcohol in my system, maybe it was the incredibly erotic scene I was watching, maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t had a real rut in two months (I was saving myself for them at that point), or maybe it was the time of my life I’d been having with these two, but… I found myself leaning back in my seat, reaching down with both forehooves to stroke them both, taking delight in watching my two new stallions squirm and twitch under my efforts. Though initially surprised, they grinned and quickly reciprocated, Blackjack nipping at my exposed neck lightly while Royal Flush worked on my ears, all of us trying to both watch the unfolding movie scene out of the corners of our eyes while still giving our respective efforts sufficient attention. The scene ended and I stopped stroking them before either of them could come—it would leave a mess, and I wanted them fully saved up for later, after all… For at movie’s end, it was time to head for our hotel room and consummate our union properly. I apologize to my readers for leaving this story off here, with the just barest of teasers. But there’s a reason for it. What was to follow would become, all at once, one of the best and worst nights of my life. But both it and its aftermath requires an entire article to tell. One thing I would like to say here, though. I’ve heard from Gentlemen that a human woman being with multiple human men is something that is generally frowned upon in human society—that the woman is often assumed to be somehow dirty or something called a ‘slut’ for it. I can’t really say I understand the connotations of the word, but it’s definitely not the case in Equestria—what consenting adults and especially herdmates do is their own business and nopony else’s. For myself, as we left the theater a very horny trio and headed back upstreet, I knew I was about to live a long-held personal fantasy, and it’s one G4M customers occasionally indulge in as well, particularly when they’re in heat—with stallions so rare in pony society, being serviced simultaneously by multiple males is the deepest desire and most forlorn fantasy of many a mare. It’s a very dirty and decadent, heady and happy feeling when it happens… to say nothing of a very guilty pleasure, because you know on some level if you’re taking more than one stallion, you’re taking a stallion away from another mare. However, I think things are changing… and very much for the better. The coming of humans (no pun intended) means vastly more available males to the average mare. I believe that Gentlemen for Mares is the answer to our need of companionship; a way to provide experienced male companions to mares that, otherwise, have no access to them… with no danger of disease or the social stigma of having sex with a stallion outside of a herd. In truth, it is my fondest hope that one day Gentlemen for Mares will no longer be needed, for that would mean that our company aim and vision came true: that our societies integrated to the point that it’s as normal and natural for a mare to be with a human male as it is to be with a stallion. But until that day comes… G4M is needed and answers the call of lonely mares. > Part 7: Just Say Neigh > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – Just Say Neigh By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines April 20 issues Editor’s note: this article, even more than the ones before, is EXTREMELY adult and explicit, and broaches fetish themes like threesomes, sizeplay and illicit drug/potion use. For this reason, reader discretion is VERY strongly advised and we have made the decision that from here on out, the full uncensored articles will ONLY be available to New York Life and Manehattan Post readers by direct subscription. They are NOT available in our regular issues, sorry and cannot be purchased at a newsstand or online. We know that many of our casual readers will be disappointed, but this is the compromise we were forced to make in order to fend off lawsuits and continue running the articles. Signed, —Hot Topic and Kalido Tema, Owner and Chief Editors, Manehattan Post and New York Life magazines. Dear readers: I’m told that the two magazines have finally been forced to restrict access to the articles due to their adult nature and interspecies content. I can’t say I agree with it but certainly understand the pressure they’re under. If you want to blame anypony for this, blame me. In truth, there have been several points that various lawyers and editors at the magazines have asked me why I have to be so direct in my descriptions of sex in what’s supposed to a news article and why I can’t just imply it, or at least tone it down. There are two reasons. First and foremost, I’m a very direct pony. Like I’ve said previously, it’s just not in my nature to be subtle, particularly about sex. If I want you, I’ll have you, and if I’m going to tell you a story that involves sex, I’m going to say exactly what happened and not dance around it. The second reason is that I don’t do anything without purpose or reason. If I want you, it’s because there’s something I like about you; if I’m sharing a story in these articles, sexual or otherwise, it’s because there’s a lesson I want readers to take and learn from it—a lesson I was forced to learn the hard way. Such will be the case here, even if that lesson isn’t immediately obvious. I promise I’m not doing it just to shock. But speaking of shock… Another week, another unexpected (but very welcome!) letter from an old friend and lover. I’m extremely reluctant to share this after what happened to Cayenne, but he’s insisting, saying he’s already ‘outted’ as it were. At his direct request, the letter is reproduced here with minimal editing and no redaction. Dear Five Stars, It’s me! Your cowcolt? I clipped a picture of myself to this letter. Hadn’t thought about you in years til I started getting letters from my kin back east, all asking about you. Didn’t know why til my Ponyville cousin said some ‘human comfort horse trainer’ was writing lies about me in the Manehattan Post. I had to send to Las Pegasus for a copy—I still haven’t been back there since… you know. Well, for the record, I read it and there weren’t no lies in that story. It all happened just like you said, and I ain’t gonna say I regret it none neither… cause that would be a lie and my family, we pride ourselves on honesty. But the thing is… you kinda outted me with the end of that article. See, folks in my family are named after apple breeds, and well… reckon I sent you that particular kind of apple cause some part of me really did want you to know my name. Just never imagined it would come back after so many years to bite me in the flank! So now my entire clan and town’s asking bout you, and I’m having a hard time holding them off. Guess I’m hoping if you run this letter, it’ll answer all their questions and get them off my back. So let me start by sayin… I really do appreciate all the kind words you’ve given me, both then and now. There were lots of times I wondered if you was just using me that night and if I really did mean anything to you. But as I’ve read that article and the ones that come after… reckon I did! Just so you know I did get your return letter, though it made for some real awkward questions from my friends to be hoof-delivered a scroll with a Las Pegasus letterhead addressed to ‘my fire-maned, fruit-flanked cowcolt’. In fact, one pony in particular saw it, and… well, don’t mind telling you it caused some real trouble. I ain’t gonna say here what kind, but reckon you can guess. That’s also why I couldn’t write back, so let me say now what I weren’t able to then—thank you very kindly for that night and all the nice things you said and did for me. Truth is, I did think about you a lot for a long time after, and there were a whole mess of times I wanted to see you again, but… in the end it’s best we didn’t. Would’ve made way too many troubles for me and my town. I know my Ponyville cousin don’t like gentlemen none, but me, I don’t have any problems with them or what you do, really. Humans’ve been a boon to our little town too, and between them and the tours from Las Pegasus, we’re really starting to do well now. Course, we’ve had even more interest since that article of yours was run! I said back then I didn’t want folks to think that’s what Appleloosa was about, but… reckon it kinda worked out that way, as I’m now the face of our town and many of our colts—and me!—are getting a lot of looks from Las Pegasus ladies. Ain’t sure how I feel about all that, but guess there ain’t no point in hiding it no more. You never knew my name, but I’ll say it proudly to both worlds now. Still your friend and fire-maned, fruit-flanked cowcolt, —Braeburn Apple PS: Might be willing to see you again sometime, if you’re ever back out Appleloosa way. Can’t promise another ‘authentic frontier experience’, but… reckon a hug and a kiss be fine! Wow. Just… wow. I had to lie down after reading this one, and still find myself feeling teary and shaky now. All I can say is… thank you, dearest Braeburn, my wonderful and beloved cowcolt. You can’t imagine how happy it makes me to hear from you again after all this time. I’m grateful to finally know your name, though I’m now kicking myself for not guessing it sooner and sparing you this kind of attention and embarrassment. It appears I included one detail too many in that article. My sincere apologies and I promise to be more careful from here on out. Let me put your mind at ease and say again that there’s rarely been more meaningful a night for me than that incredible New Years, and I remain forever grateful to you for it. We were only together for but a single day, yet it was a day that did so much for me and one that I’ve remembered ever since. As for the rest, I can only say I’m sorry again for all the trouble I’ve caused you, and fear that like Cayenne, the publication of this letter will only be invitation for others to invade your life further. If you end up being harassed and need legal assistance or help with the media, please contact Rising Star at the Mystique or G4M’s Palisades office in Las Pegasus. I’ll make sure they’ll help you. And yes, I would VERY much like to see you again sometime, ‘authentic frontier experience’ or no. Regardless, I will definitely take you up on that hug and kiss, though! But for now, it’s time to describe another night to remember… though the results of this one were, when all was said and done, considerably less happy. I had just joined my new herd, and my two new herd stallions had taken me out for a night on the town in celebration for the start of what was supposed to be a three-day honeymoon. It was nearly 3am, and our night out was over. But our night in had yet to begin… Myself, Royal Flush and Blackjack left the theater a very hot and horny trio. We walked upstreet discussing our favorite scenes of the just-finished Silverwing while bumping hips and exchanging nips and nuzzles, all of us reaching an unspoken agreement that it was time to retire to our hotel room… but not for sleep. The movie had shown a fantasy fulfilled, but for me, that entire night was a dream come true—I had been shown the time of my life by two attractive and attentive males, my new herd stallions… And very shortly, they would be making love to me. About five minutes after leaving the Grande, We reached the Wild Wubs Café, where they hired a chariot and took me on a private flight up to the cloud top of the Strotosphere spire, an in-the-air resort mecca for pegasi and griffins… giving the stallion pilots a hundred-bit bribe to look the other way while they pulled the chariot themselves. I was surprised—and a little aghast—to learn this was where we were staying for the long weekend, in a penthouse suite at the top of the spire. I can’t say I was altogether sold on that as I drank a long-lasting cloudwalking potion—flying still wasn’t my thing, and I had a touch of vertigo when we cleared the top of the buildings… Which was nothing compared to when we set down on the cloud surface outside the in-the-air resort. On Cloud Nine A pegasi or griffin would be in their element in such a place, and the Strotosphere spire and cloudtop resort are indeed quite popular with winged species. But there is nothing more unnatural for an earth pony than being high up in the air, walking on a cloud. As I stepped off the chariot onto the cloud surface I felt a wave of nausea pass over me that wasn’t helped by the odd-tasting potion I just drank, and the fact that the cloud felt anything but solid, very springy and yielding didn’t help me at all. Fortunately, RF and Blackjack had some experience dealing with that with Bluegrass and Windfall, the other Earth pony mares of their herd, whom I’d later learned they’d taken up here on their respective honeymoons as well. “Relax. Take deep breaths,” Royal Flush told me, holding me steady and breathing in and out with me until my shaking had stopped. “You’ll get used to it. And you won’t fall. We promise,” Blackjack added, letting me lean on him. I stepped gingerly through the cloud floor towards the resort entrance, certain it couldn’t support me and I could fall through at any moment—it was a long way down! I never did, of course, but that fear remained in the back of my head for a while, and I was very happy to have something solid under me—even a tiled floor—when we stepped inside the entrance to the cloudtop resort. My fears were momentarily forgotten as I looked around in wonder. It didn’t look much different than any other resort, except for the fact that the interior was a giant atrium suitable for flight with the gaming tables and seats all on clouds, some of them far in the air, with the in-the-air bars and restaurants having such not-so-clever names as “The Alicorn Aerie” and an elevated slots area called “The Lucky Loft.” There were griffin and pegasi darting here and there, even—somewhat surprisingly—a thestrel mare server in the mix, her dark coat, bat wings and cat-eyes not even getting a second look as she darted to and fro passing out drinks and collecting tips. As I watched she even flirted and started to make out with a griffin eagless! Wow… this place would be PERFECT for Willow! I remember thinking, wondering idly if they had any openings for singers. “Something else, huh?” Royal Flush broke into my thoughts, smiling at my awestruck expression. Realizing how I must have looked, I quickly closed my slack jaw. “It really is. But… without wings, I can’t really enjoy it like you two can. So forgive me for asking, but… why did you want to stay here?” I asked them both. “Because, Five Stars…” Blackjack grinned, motioning me forward with a wing towards the stairway that led to the guest rooms. “You haven’t lived until you’ve slept on a cloud… or made love on one,” he told me in an almost-purring tone, bumping my hip again and reaching in to give my exposed neck a quick nip. My eyes widened and breath caught at that, a mixture of emotions suddenly shooting through me. I’d had the time of my life, the movie had certainly put in the mood, and I loved the way they were treating me, but… “Um…” I stuttered, my alien surroundings still giving me issues. “I need… to get used to this first…” I told them, motioning around me and beneath me—we’d had to cross another cloud surface to get to the stairway. “No problem,” Royal Flush assured me, the two brothers waiting to escort me across, Blackjack a little more impatiently than his brother. “We don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to,” the blue poker stallion hastened to add upon seeing my indecision, though that garnered a slightly pouting look from Blackjack that was quickly silenced by a glance from his brother. And with that, the pair escorted me across the room and up the stairs to our suite, which, to my relief, had a solid floor but cloud bed and gorgeous crystalline furnishings As we settled into our three-room penthouse—it was utterly decadent and had a spectacular view of The Street, looking straight down it—Blackjack came up to me. “You know, Five Stars…” he told me between light kisses, nosing under my chin repeatedly—I was starting to figure out he liked my neck a lot. “It was all we could do not to tuck you back in that theater,” he told me huskily, nipping at my neck above my dressline and causing me to arch my neck backwards to receive his efforts. “I mean, stroking us right there in the booth? You. Are a. Dreadful! Tease!” he accused in mock-sternness, punctuating his words with additional nips, heading lower down my front. “Oh really?” I said a little breathlessly, desire and dizziness clashing hard in my head. “And what do you two expect a filly to do when you show yourselves off during a scene like that?” I rejoined in an effort to master my nerves, remembering how they’d deliberately displayed their stallionhoods to me during that scene… “And did you like what you saw?” Royal Flush asked with a grin, his wings starting to flare in excitement as he went to work on my ears and nape—apparently those were his favorite spots on me. “Because if you’re a good girl, we might we willing to give you another peek…” he said as he continued to nip, sending little chills through me. “Or even if you’re a bad girl,” Blackjack chuckled, resuming his efforts against my ears and nape. “In fact, might even be more fun that way…” he suggested meaningfully. “Boys…?” I mildly protested, starting to pant lightly as the two brothers began to double-team me. It not that I wasn’t enjoying it, it’s that part of me remained uncomfortable with the surroundings, wanting some time to acclimate first. “I’m st-still not sure I’m ready…” I mildly protested, sensing that much more of their efforts and I’d be reaching the point of no return. “No?” Blackjack asked, nipping at my neck again, hearing my wavering voice and recognizing the effect their combined efforts were having on me. “Let us try to get you in the mood, then…” he nickered and went for the fasteners on the front my dress, beginning to release them with his teeth one by one. To my surprise, I gave a very needy whinny in return—they were doing their best to ‘get me in the mood’, and by Celestia, it was working! As I felt Blackjack releasing the fasteners on the front of my dress and Royal Flush working his way down my spine, slowly drawing the rear zipper on my dress backward, I felt a very strong and unlikely thrill go through me—like most ponies, I was usually naked anyway, yet being undressed, unwrapped like a birthday present was an enormous turn-on, one I never even knew I could have—like I was being bared with purpose; it was an entirely new level of foreplay I’d never experienced before. My cheeks flushed as I felt them expose progressively more of me and my marehood quickly moistened up, I felt hot and unsteady again, this time with solid ground beneath my hooves as Blackjack nuzzled my long neck beneath my now-open dress lapels and necklace and his brother tugged my dress down from behind, undoing my tail clasp and nibbling and nuzzling his way down my hip. These two were clearly very practiced in their routine, and it was the little things that made the difference… Blackjack laying love bites on my increasingly exposed neck and nape while Royal Flush kissed each star of my cutie mark in turn, giving me a very symbolic but potent form of acceptance, if not outright worship. Finally undressed and aroused beyond all reason or understanding, I all but attacked them as I returned the favor, tugging at their evening wear with my teeth and exposing their red and blue chests. “I want you both. Now!” I all but demanded, suddenly wondering how I was going to accommodate them at once; if I hadn’t already been so horny, the ideas I got might have made me blush. “That’s more like it,” Blackjack grinned, his wings and stallionhood now fully erect—I’d already seen the former once, but this time it was going to be a lot more than just stroking it! “And have us you shall. But first…” to my surprise and disappointment, he left my side, retrieving a small nondescript package that had been left in the room on the crystal nightstand by the bed. “A little something for all of us…” he announced, tapping the top and making it pop open with a flare of released magic. I’m not a unicorn but all ponies possess some intrinsic magical awareness, enabling me to sense a powerful sealing and concealment spell on it. Inside were three large potion vials, two gold and one orange. And judging by the intensity of their glow, whatever was in them was some really potent stuff. “Boosters,” Blackjack announced eagerly. “One for each of us,” he said as he passed his brother one of the gold ones and me the orange. That gave me some pause. I don’t have anything against magical male performance boosters—they’re safe when used in moderation; Cayenne had used them (to excess) and human gentlemen avail themselves of them occasionally, usually when servicing mares in heat. But female boosters… they existed but were somewhat more questionable; they tended to compromise your wits even worse than an unsated heat did and weren’t something you would ever accept from a stranger. And whatever these were, given their strong glow and the fact that they’d arrived under magical concealment… they were clearly NOT your typical boosters. Thus, I hesitated to take it. “These don’t look… normal…” I said, a little warily, giving the vial—and the pair—an askance look. “We have them special made. They have a little more… kick than the average booster,” Royal Flush admitted with a slightly odd and knowing grin. “Actually, we used to use these all the time. But in fairness, we’re a little more responsible with them now. Nowadays, we don’t pull these out very often—just for special occasions. Birthdays, anniversaries and…” he grinned as well, showing his flat teeth at me. “Honeymoons. All our mares have used them and loved them, we promise.” I stood there, badly torn. My libido was way up, I was ready for a night to remember, but something didn’t feel right; an alarm bell was ringing deep inside my head. “What will it do to me?” I asked, looking at the orange-glowing liquid like it might bite. “It’ll enhance everything—desire, sensation, stamina… and also enable you to take a little more than you normally would,” Blackjack said in an eager but strangely coy tone that gave me further pause. “Trust me, Five Stars… you’ll have the time of the life if you take this!” he promised, popping the seal on his own. “Bottoms up, brother!” Royal Flush said, and with that, they clinked their potion vials together in a toast and hooked their right forelegs, drinking around each other, downing the potion in one gulp, a little golden liquid like warm honey dribbling from their lips. “You too, Five Stars!” he invited, upon seeing me hesitate. “Believe me, you’ll enjoy this a lot more if you do!” As I watched, their already-erect stallionhoods swelled larger and their apples themselves seemed to grow before for my eyes, swelling with their seed. “Part of the potion,” Royal Flush promised me, spreading his legs to show his new stature off proudly. “And part of why it’s special made. A little extra size never hurt anypony.” My eyes went wide at that, thinking it was certain to hurt me—they’d nearly doubled their size and there was no WAY I could take anything that big! “Uh…” “You can take us… as long you take that,” an equally well-endowed Blackjack anticipated my objection and told me eagerly, nodding at my vial, looking like it was all he could to restrain himself from jumping me right then and there. And as fun as the idea was of a pair of stallions losing control over me and taking me out of desperation and need… they’d split me open like that! I stared at the vial for a moment, quite leerily, increasingly certain that whatever these things were, they weren’t street-legal. Like most other colts and fillies, I’d grown up being constantly told to “just say neigh” to illicit enchantments and potions, and had never considered using one before—I’d certainly never had NEED for one before! They could be addictive and dangerous; their side effects were unpredictable, varying from user to user and no decent mare would ever consider using one… but now here I was, with the two stallions of my dreams, horny as hay and being promised the greatest night of life… oh what the buck. You only live once, right? I finally decided and, overriding my remaining misgivings, downed my own as well, the thick orange slurry going down my throat… Boosted Almost instantly, a very heady warmth and feeling of well-being washed over me. I felt warm. Relaxed. And very excited, additional heat and blood rushing hard to my already-aroused areas, making them feel pliable and… exquisitely sensitive and tingly. It wasn’t just changes in receptivity either—I felt my breasts plumping and teats growing not unlike the pair’s shafts. My cheeks soon felt as hot as my marehood, and suddenly nothing else mattered except getting those two into me. “This… isn’t a legal booster, is it?” I had just enough cognizance remaining to ask, though I did so with a knowing—and even approving—grin, really liking the way I was now feeling. “Well, you know us…” Royal Flush grinned, his shaft now extending nearly as far as his forelegs, moving one of them aside and stretching his body forward so I could see and admire it—and now fully under the influence of the potion, I did, knowing somehow I could and would take that magnificent specimen of maleness inside me. “We like breaking the rules,” he echoed Rising Star’s warning as he licked his muzzle, staring at me lazily like anticipating a great meal to come. My fear and doubts now gone, driven off by the effects of the potion, my dominant side began asserting itself. “Oh really?” I batted my eyes at them, hopping up on the cloud bed and lounging suggestively on it—its surface was incredibly soft and yielding, yet I barely even noticed at that point—flicking my tail to the side and exposing my hindquarters, giving them a teasing wink with my incredibly hot and swollen marehood lips. I grinned as I saw Blackjack take an involuntary step forward at that. “How so?” The two brothers shared a knowing glance. “Well, for starters…” Unable to restrain himself any longer, Blackjack stepped over to me and rolled me over on my back, laying his enormous black shaft right down my belly and leaving me staring it in the face, its girth nestled between my hind legs and cushioned by my still-growing breasts—the latter clearly another part of the ‘added kick’ they’d mentioned. “We like to see your face when we do it…” he said as he began laying kisses and licks down my neck again, giving slow thrusts with his hips, pressing his shaft into my belly with his own and delivering a surprising amount of pleasure to my well-plumped breasts and tingling, double-sized teats. Though a new and not unwelcome sensation, my attention was mostly fixed on the heat of his shaft and the electric shocks of pleasure his neck nips brought me (he was really good at that, potion or no!) and I ended up clutching his head to me until he got too low on my body, giving my teats some attention, suckling me hungrily for a minute—the effect of the booster on that score wasn’t at all unlike what that one spell from my dentist friend did. Still, I didn’t quite realize his intention until he stepped all the way back and moved to straddle me, going belly to belly with me, his oversized shaft and partially flared head poised at my entrance. “It’s time, Five Stars,” he told me. “Are you ready?” My eyes, which had been closed in pleasure, snapped open at that—like most ponies, the idea of mating belly-to-belly was extremely kinky to me, and something I’d never even considered trying before (sorry, my human lovers—you weren’t the first to show me this!) But I was hardly about to stop him; the entire night had been building up to this moment! Panting softly, I nodded jerkily and watched wide-eyed and as he spread my legs and took a deep, hissing breath as he pushed into me none too gently, barely able to hold back. It didn’t matter. My more-malleable marehood stretched and flexed to accommodate his girth, a huge shiver of pleasure going through me as he entered. I moaned and involuntarily tightened down on him as his head slipped inside, my body all but sucking it in. Even with the potion in me and suppressing such higher thought processes, I was still amazed at the feat—normally, when mating in the traditional rear mounting style, a stallion will only sink himself into a mare about halfway, up to his medial ridge. Yet, even with his larger size, he made it even deeper into me… halfway with the first thrust, two-thirds with the second, then three-quarters on the third… before he hit my limits; his head pushing against the entrance to my very womb. Normally, that’d be a little unnatural and painful, but here… it not only wasn’t, but left me strangely disappointed—even though I was already filled to the brim and enjoying the feeling immensely, I wanted even more—I wanted ALL of him in me! But he didn’t pull back, instead pushing even harder forward. “Wait for it…” he grunted, his eyes closed tight shut to savor the sensation of his massive length in my potion-enhanced marehood. Then, to my renewed shock, the potion enabled even that barrier to give way, yielding to his probing, pulsing shaft and letting him push inside my womb itself, sinking himself all the way in me to the hilt! “Ah!” we both called. “Th-that’s…” I was so stunned I couldn’t even finish the sentence—I had never felt so full in my life! My belly bulged, he was in me so deep my other organs would have had to shift aside… yet there was no pain or discomfort, only intense pleasure redoubled by the sheer kinkiness and utter unlikelihood of what we were doing… Whatever that potion was, it was REALLY good stuff! Despite what he was feeling, Blackjack managed to restrain himself from thrusting long enough to grin at my stunned expression. “Now you know why we like doing it this way, Five Stars—not just so we can see your face, but so we can go a little deeper!” he paused to savor the feeling of my entire body containing him before he began to thrust again, pulling about halfway out before driving his hips forward. He buried his muzzle in my neck as he did so and I clutched him to me, my legs wrapping around his hindquarters trying to pull him even deeper into me. My body was now milking him for all he was worth … every inch it now filled with thick stallion shaft and alive with pleasure that would have already brought me to a massive climax under normal circumstances. I had never been mated like this and I loved it, no longer caring about the impossibility of what we were doing or worried about the myriad effects of the potion (or side effects to come). I just wanted more. And more! And MORE! Despite that, neither of us lasted more than a minute. I felt my own long-building climax coming on as he slammed his hips forward one final time, burying himself as deep as he could as his head flared impossibly deep inside, flooding me with his seed as he called my name. My scream of pleasure was loud enough to crack the crystal nightstand. * * * * * The boys, I quickly learned, shared and shared alike. I barely had time to come off that orgasmic high before Blackjack pulled out and his brother took his place and went in. Sloppy seconds were clearly not an issue with these two, or maybe it was just the potion again. Either way the same act was repeated, except that instead of going after my neck like his brother, Royal Flush made out with me directly as we mated dolphin-style, kissing and exchanging tongues with me. I’d always thought of kissing and making out as a form of foreplay and post-act cuddling, not as part of the act itself, but… in hindsight, it’s perhaps one of the reasons I was so quickly and eagerly able to adapt to humans when the time came—these two had already broken me in to some rather human forms of mating long before I’d even heard of them. Once they’d each me had me separately, we took a brief break, laying out on the cloud bed together. Have to admit, Blackjack was right—you really haven’t lived until you’ve made love on one of those things! “Good stuff, huh?” the red brother grinned at me, showing me one of the empty vials and lounging beside me with his cock still hard, slowly stroking himself and leaving a small puddle of clear liquid on the cloud. “Ready for another round?” Was I ever! I’d come hard twice, had my insides filled and stretched, and yet… “By Celestia, you two weren’t kidding. That was amazing! So what do we do for an encore? I asked, reaching over to stroke him while Royal Flush moved to spoon me, his shaft still partially in me. “Good question. So what do you think, bro?” the blue stallion asked from behind me as he nibbled on my ears, his cock still halfway in me and starting to harden up again himself. “Oh, I don’t know…” his red sibling replied in a tone that suggested he knew exactly what. “I mean, what else can we do that’s special for our newest mare…?” “How about a double-team?” Royal Flush suggested to his sibling, though it was more directed at me than him. “So, would like to have us both do you at once, Five Stars?” he said, giving the base of an ear some more attention as he asked, Blackjack pressing close from the other side and working my neck again. I felt my pleasure starting to build again at their licks and nips. “I… could be persuaded…” I answered a little coyly, though in reality… like so many mares that had always been one of my greatest fantasies, wondering how they were planning to both service me at once. “What… do you have… in mind?” I managed between the short but sharp little love bites they were giving me, dimly aware of a growing pressure between my hind legs. I felt… full, and not just from the stallionhood still inside me, reaching down to feel how incredibly swollen and sensitive my teats had become. Trust Blackjack to notice. “I think she’s ripe, brother,” the red stallion noted, rolling the mass of a large breast in his hoof, the stimulation of the oversensitive and laden flesh causing me to shiver and a trickle of milk to come out a double-sized teat. “So she is…” Royal Flush agreed, reaching down himself, causing me to moan as they started making little circular motions with their hooves against the tips of my nipples. “Thirsty?” he asked with a grin. “You know it!” Blackjack rejoined, and as one, they shifted around so their heads were between my legs, holding them apart while they each latched on to a nipple. The withdrawn shaft left me feeling empty, but it was quickly forgotten and forgiven as both stallions suckled hungrily at my teats, drinking my potion-produced milk like eager foals, feeling me shudder beneath them—breast and nipple play usually isn’t as big a thing with ponies as I’ve learned it is with humans, but every so often you can find a mare or stallion that was really into it—my dentist friend was one and so was Willow, but these two… Well, they took it to a whole new level, even going so far as to use my oversized breasts to stimulate their large cocks, taking turns laying their lengths between my mammaries and pressing their swollen mass into them from either side. Yet another item that would later carry over to my time with humans… Seriously. Considering their near-human tastes and a sexual aggressiveness that was very unusual for stallions, I almost think these two were male humans in a previous life. I came from such stimulation more gently but came nonetheless. When they heard my happy sigh, they changed positions and emphasis, Blackjack laying alongside me while continuing to work on my teats while royal Flush went lower… and stuck his tongue in my very hot and slick marehood. “Ah!” I cried out at the unexpected touch and the boys grinned at each other but didn’t stop, working both parts of my femininity at once. Oral, I later learned, was something Royal Flush was willing to do but, like most stallions, Blackjack was not… though his interest in my neck and nipples more than made up for that. He knew what physical features on a mare he liked the most, and I could certainly appreciate that! Another ten minutes and two orgasms later, my milk was (momentarily) drained but my two new herd stallions were hungrier than ever, ready and eager to enter me again. This time, Royal Flush took the lead—the brothers not only shared, they always traded off who got to go first—and he was soon buried in me again, this time a little more traditionally (as in, from behind) while Blackjack looked on, stroking himself while lounging out beside me—and was he ever surprised when I reached down to take his shaft in my muzzle! Not that he complained. The brothers were particular about just one thing, I later realized… and that’s that they only wanted to touch me, not each other. The only time they balked was when I later offered to go down on them both simultaneously; they apparently had something against the idea of their stallionhoods touching… like that would somehow make them colt-cuddlers or something. But such qualms were of no consequence just then as I serviced Blackjack orally while Royal Flush in turn serviced me, his organ head not as deep as before though it was certainly trying, pushing at my womb again. Wanting even that void filled, I shifted around, trying to get it to go but even as large as it was, it wasn’t long enough to reach from that position. Royal Flush noticed my frustration. “I’m sorry, Five Stars. Let’s both take you properly, then…” he said with a glance at his brother, who grinned like he’d just been cued. Royal Flush gently turned me around to face him, my marehood pivoting on his massive shaft until I was belly to belly with him. “Just relax,” he told me between kisses, his muzzle finding mine and our tongues beginning a renewed dance. “You’re going to love this…” he promised as I heard his brother shifting around out of view, and I had no doubt he was telling the truth… Though I was still very unprepared for the sudden feeling of a stallion shaft pressing at a certain other orifice beneath my tail. “MMmph!” I protested, weakly shaking my head, but Royal Flush silenced me with another kiss and begin thrusting into me again, sinking himself impossibly deep into me like I’d wanted him to again, distracting me while his brother’s fluids began seeping into my other opening, lubricating it. “W-wait…! I don’t… I n-never…” I managed to get out but Royal Flush shushed me with a kiss. “Don’t worry… you’ll love it!” Blackjack said very huskily, positioning himself properly for the act, in a tone that suggested he wouldn’t stop even if I told him too. “Have we been wrong about anything so far?” he asked me as his brother pulled my barely-resisting legs wide, baring me beneath my tail. I still wasn’t sure, despite all—being taken beneath the tail is something you hear about colt-cuddlers doing; it’s rarely done to mares—and regardless, the idea of it had never been something that appealed to me (though I can honestly say I never thought about it before that either!) Here, though, I found my tail involuntarily shifting aside again as the potion de-inhibitors and sheer idea of both brothers inside me at once overrode any final misgivings—they promised to take me both at once, and this was certainly a way to do so! Royal Flush held still—and held me still—while his brother pushed into me with a grunt, I gave an involuntary gasp as I felt his head slip in past the initial resistance, my body yielding to a second intrusion, accepting a second stallionhood. Even with the potion it was a little uncomfortable at first, but that quickly melted away to be replaced with a feeling of fullness and fulfillment as he gave some slow thrusts, sinking another inch or two each time… Both stallions now inside me, they gave me—and each other a grin and began thrusting as one, holding me in place with their forehooves, eliciting cries of pleasure from me with each push. My mind swam as the potion’s influence reached its peak; I could feel every inch of their shafts inside me; every vein, every throb, every wonderful drop of their pre-seed as it was squeezed from their enormous shafts. Their increasingly forceful thrusts rocked me, sending me spiraling to higher and higher levels of ecstasy and in return my body drew them deeper, squeezing and milking their length until their apples themselves were slapping hard against my rear. In a daze and feeling like I was all but ready to melt, my head briefly turned to look at us in the mirror over the crystal dresser opposite the bed… And it was there I saw myself, sandwiched between two stallions, one in my marehood and another beneath my tail.… being taken as I’d never even imagined possible before. I felt their bodies tense, their muscles contract and their heads flare deep within me once more as they climaxed explosively, calling my name and taking me in a way I’d never experienced before or since. My mind reeling and my sensitivity and receptivity heightened by the potion beyond all reason, I felt a torrent of their seed flood me, the pair claiming me as one for their herd… I came so hard I passed out. * * * * * And so the rest of the night went, though I remembered progressively less of it as we went along. The potions allowing us quick recovery times and suppressing all inhibitions, we went at it like the animals I always have to convince potential human lovers that we’re not, each round leaving us wanting even more. I tried positions I’d never even dreamed of, did things I never even would have considered… Things I would have not only considered uncomfortable, but vulgar or vile before. Lost in the influence and effects of the potions, “kinky” lost all meaning that night. I wore a harness and riding bit as I was ridden, tried on a collar and leash, and—now that they knew I was willing to do oral—I was taken simultaneously from both ends (“spitroasting” as I’ve heard humans refer to it, though being an herbivore I really don’t like that term), and at the end… I deep-throated both of them in turn without any effort; no gag reflex, no regret… And no thought of the heavy price we were all going to pay for it. In between rounds, we talked and snuggled and I even preened them both, as I’d originally learned to do with Cayenne—which, by the way, was something else I normally didn’t like doing because of the taste and feel of feathers in my mouth and between my teeth. Here it didn’t matter though, and they certainly appreciated my efforts. I’d never gotten Cayenne off that way as preening pegasi tends to be more a foreplay and intimacy thing than outright sex, but given my skill and the ongoing influence of the booster potions, they both came quite hard from it, their wings almost painfully splayed. The potions finally spent and us along with them, we collapsed in a heap of sweaty bodies in our cloud bed around sunrise, and didn’t stir again until well into the afternoon. As I drifted off to sleep with my desires sated and deepest fantasies fulfilled, snuggled between two equally spent stallions whose herd I now belonged to, I remember thinking that if I died right then and there, I’d die a very happy mare… I just never thought that would very nearly come true. When I first started writing this, it had been my intention to tell the whole story of that night in one go, not just half of it. But reading it now, I think it’s best left off here. Perhaps receiving that letter from my cowcolt warmed my heart and I don’t want to remember an offsetting hurt right now. Or perhaps I’d just rather remember the good of that night before I get into… Well. Needless to say, I was only too right about that booster potion. It wasn’t legal and as it turned out, for very good reason. Its immediate effects were spent but its aftereffects… The consequences of that night would be far-reaching for us all, and later… a cautionary tale for both gentlemen and mares alike. > Part 8: Choice and Consequence > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – Choice and Consequence By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines May 4 issues Dear readers: As seems to be a habit now, I have another letter to share from an old flame—or in this case, two old flames. This time, however, I’m going to save it for the end of the article instead of the beginning. You’ll see why as you read. You know, one of the more frequently asked questions I get from human readers is why these articles are so explicit. I touched on this a bit in the last issue, but let me expand on it here as both magazines, I understand, are still under heavy fire despite restricting access and being threatened with obscenity prosecutions, especially after my last article. For humans, as I was admittedly warned, the explicitness of my writing itself appears to be the issue; though I hear some rumblings about promoting ‘immorality’ as well. Have to say, I really don’t get it—I’ve seen some of your films and shows. The level of violence and profanity in many of them is off-the-charts, and yet it’s sex that’s taboo and people need to be protected from? I’m sorry, but that doesn’t make sense. In the end, all I can say is this: if sex itself is anathema to talk about, then take it from a formerly uptight pony when I say you really need to collectively loosen up. You’ll be a lot happier as both individuals and societies in the long run if you do. Now for ponies, it’s different—what I’m writing isn’t lurid so much for its explicitness as its themes—foals outside of herdlock, casual encounters with stallions (pony or human), potion use (and abuse), interspecies sex, discussions of the problems of herds… these topics have been anathema in Equestria for far too long. So the short answer is… I’m actively seeking to challenge existing orthodoxy, and that means offending certain sensibilities on both sides of the portal. For ponies, that means a frank discussion of herds and taboo subjects like gentlemen or having sex out of herdlock. For humans, on the other hoof… it means frank and direct descriptions of sex and mating, both the good and bad of it. Sex shouldn’t be hidden away behind closed doors or ‘firewalls’, whatever that is. If we’re to have a real dialogue and discussion about our respective cultures and societies, these topics cannot be taboo. Humans and ponies—as well as all other Tellus races—are only going to move closer over the years and decades to come. If we’re to integrate our societies more fully—and it will happen whether we want it to or not—these are discussions that need to be had. I said before that I’m a very direct pony, and I daresay it was part of the reason Platinum Corona selected me to write this—because she knew I would take these topics head-on. Actually, Five Stars, there were several reasons why I selected you, but the main one was your history of failed relationships, which read like a litany of herd horror stories and would be a tale to which far too many mares could relate. I saw you as representative of why Gentlemen for Mares is necessary, and in your story of how a high-class hotel concierge became a trainer of Gentlemen an excellent way to both explain and promote us. But yes, your directness and willingness to tackle these topics head-on is certainly an asset to the cause. The fact that you write so well doesn’t hurt either. I personally have no issue with the explicitness of your stories and would simply note to your many readers that you do it to teach as much as tantalize… though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the latter part of it! And though they may be afraid to speak up, I’m sure there are many out there, both human and ponies, who agree with me when I say once again… Carry on, Five Stars! And do not let the neighsayers silence you. —Platinum Corona I stand corrected, Platinum. My thanks again for the trust you’ve placed in me, and all the support and encouragement you’ve offered. I’d also like to thank my readers for all the support and encouragement I’ve received, for the many letters and missives from both sides of the portal telling me how much my articles are appreciated, everything from mares telling me I speak for them to humans saying that I’m helping take the stigma out of human/pony relationships, even for those who aren’t Gentlemen. In fact, I’m told by Platinum that since these articles started running, we’ve seen a substantial uptick in not only requests for Gentlemen from newly interested mares… but from human males asking if they could be one. Well, I’m afraid I can’t give away our exact recruiting process, but I can say that there are many months of preparation and orientation involved, and not every human completes it or even passes the initial assessment. We screen our candidates carefully, both for attitude and aptitude, and yes, we do require at least a modicum of good looks and a high level of physical condition. Many gentlemen end up being surprised by the strenuous physical requirements of the job—satisfying a mare is not always easy—and the ability to do so is ultimately not something that any potion can grant. Ultimately, that takes training—my job—and months of practice and physical conditioning before a new Gentlemen is deemed ready to receive clients. For me, writing these articles has been a long walk down memory lane. I’ve enjoyed immensely the retelling of my favorite encounters; with Cayenne, with Braeburn or my dentist friend. But it’s also forced me to remember the bad as well; the feelings of failure and loneliness, of repeatedly losing lovers and herds… Or of being lied to; being pressured into taking an illicit potion and having the best night of my life turn into one of the absolute worst. The Hangover When I fell asleep that morning snuggled between my two new (and soon to be ex-) herd stallions, I had thought that if I died then, I would die a very happy mare. The following day, it very nearly came true. I woke up early the next afternoon to find I was very cold, shivering violently and uncontrollably despite the two warm bodies snuggled against me, and in a great deal of pain. Any movement hurt, even breathing, and I couldn’t seem to get enough air. I was covered in a cold sweat and knew in my fluttering heart something was very wrong with me. Royal Flush and Blackjack initially tried to brush it off as ‘a hangover’, noting they had headaches too and encouraging me to eat something—they’d ordered room service—and take a shower with them. In fact, I couldn’t even keep water down. I tried to get up to walk to the shower, only to collapse to the floor in agony, curled up in a fetal position, crying with pain and a severe craving I couldn’t identify. I felt my heart start to falter, couldn’t catch my breath and had the terrifying thought that if I passed out, I’d never wake up again. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was suffering from severe withdrawal symptoms. Just that one vial of potion had addicted me to the point that I—quite literally—could not live without it, and if I didn’t get more of it in me, I was going to die. Magic 101 Magic is something humans seem both uniformly fascinated with and frightened by, I’ve noticed, being unable to wield it themselves. Leaving aside the fact that human technology is as much magic to us; magic is a fact of life on Tellus, an energy that suffuses our planet and is harnessed innately by the races of our world. Unicorns can directly manipulate it through their horns in the form of spells and enchantments, Pegasi utilize it for flight and to manipulate weather; it grants Earth Ponies our great strength and stamina as well as our ability to work the land. Magic has the power to both hurt and heal, in the hooves (or talons) of a skilled practitioner. A spell is little more than an expression of a unicorn’s (or mage griffin’s) will through magic, while a potion is simply a spell-infused liquid; one that contains one or more incantations and enchantments that cause very specific effects to the one who takes it. Magic is both an art and science to the Tellus races, and it’s therefore not surprising that over the many millennia we’ve been harnessing and studying it we’ve come up with spells and potions that are… fertility-related or otherwise sensual in nature. Sexual boosters are not in themselves illegal. In fact, there’s a valid purpose behind each part of that potion I took: regular, run-of-the-mill boosters enhance sensitivity and stamina, others exist that reduce inhibition and increase desire, and you can even find ones that increase the size/receptiveness of your sexual organs. You’d take mood-altering ones if you were trying to get past certain hangups or emotional issues regarding intimacy (by prescription only and under strict psychiatrist supervision), and size-altering ones if you were trying to mate a zebra or Saddle Arabian, which have larger stature. So you can in fact get all the individual effects of that booster potion I took legally in separate potions; it’s when you cobble them all together into one mega-potion and then kick them up another notch with additional magic power there’s a problem. Magic has its costs, the same as anything else, and can be abused. Such was the case here. When you layer spell after spell on a single potion as that one did—there were eighteen separate enchantments on it according to the doctors who tested it—you exponentially raise the risk of interactions, side effects, and addiction with the accompanying severe withdrawal symptoms afterwards. These risks are further raised when you haven’t had the individual parts of that booster before and your body isn’t used to them, like Royal Flush and Blackjack were. Thus, there are strict legal limits on what can go in to these potions in terms of number and types of enchantment and overall energy levels, and there are very strong warnings against combining them. The upshot is that for somepony like myself who had never so much as had a regular booster before, it was instantly, highly, and almost fatally addictive. The boys and their mares could take them because they had built up a tolerance to various boosters over time; they’d get away with nothing more than a bad hangover afterwards that would last a day or so. But for me… Not long ago, we had a report of a Gentlemen, one whom I personally recruited and remain very fond of, have a bad reaction to taking a double booster dose. He took it to satisfy a mare in heat; it was a legal potion and he’d never had any problems with magic in the past. But he’d also never taken a booster before and a double dose was simply too much for him—he suffered a bad reaction to it the day after; ending up temporarily addicted and out of commission for a couple weeks. To treat it, they had to give him more of the booster and then step him down off it gradually over a period of a several days (and to his handler—I’m STILL upset you didn’t let me see him!) Now imagine what happened to him, but with a much more powerful and illegal potion that broke all the rules and limits on what you can put in them… The memories of the crippling pain and cravings still give me nightmares to this day. In truth, I don’t recall much of the hours that followed, of being rushed to the hospital or treated, but maybe that’s for the best. The last thing I DO remember clearly is hearing a frightened Blackjack frantically calling to me, his wings and forelegs wrapped around me trying to warm my shivering form with his own body while Royal Flush flew out the window to get help. And that’s why I’m now passing my virtual quill over to somepony who remembers it all too well. Greetings to the readers of the Manehattan Post and New York Life magazines. I am Rising Star, manager and now majority owner of the Mystique Casino Resort in Las Pegasus. Yes, before anypony asks, Rising Star is my real name—Five Stars asked for and received my permission to use it. Truthfully, it would have been hard for me to hide—I’m a well-known figure in Las Pegasus and the greater music worlds, as my record company sponsors many singers that are now well known on both sides of the portal. A simple check of records would have revealed where Five Stars worked and who her manager was ten years ago, rendering any attempt to conceal my identity futile. And that’s fine. I don’t mind having my name known or attached to this story. Though I don’t subscribe to the theory that ‘all publicity is good publicity’, we’ve certainly had an upsurge of bookings and interest since her articles started to be published… particularly over New Year’s, I can’t help but note. I knew Five Stars from the ten months she spent in Las Pegasus as a worker at my casino. Over that time, I came to love her as my own daughter, perhaps seeing in some ways a younger version of myself and a mare of much potential; a pony born to serve others and a natural successor for me when I finally decided to retire. Things did not work out that way… in large part due to the story I will now relate. Before I begin, some disclaimers: first, I am writing this at Five Stars’ request. I will not pretend to be as good a writer as she is, but I’ll do my best to live up to the high standards she’s set. Second and more importantly, I am not only a supporter of Gentlemen for Mares—myself and Limelight helped establish their Las Pegasus office at the Palisades—but I’m a regular client as well. I would emphasize that I’m not the typical lovelorn mare you’d think of when you imagine the stereotypical G4M customer; I had a herd I was happy in… until my herd stallion died nearly sixteen years ago. Our foals grown, our herd broke up soon after, but out of loyalty for the love and appreciation he showed me and my herdmates, I have never been with another stallion since. Human gentlemen have allowed me to enjoy male company again without feeling like I was betraying his memory. A loophole? Perhaps. But one I and many mares are only too eager to exploit. And I have Five Stars to thank for introducing them to me. But that’s a story for another time. * * * * * My first indication something was wrong that Saturday afternoon was the wail of ambulance sirens over The Street. That’s not in itself an unusual occurrence; it seems like there’s always somepony—or dragon or zebra or minotaur or griffin—who overindulges or does something stupid (and as it turned out, such was the case here). I’d be immediately notified if we had an emergency at the Mystique, so I knew they weren’t headed for us; I just watched curiously from my office balcony as the ambulance chariot was pulled by two pegasi paramedics towards the tall spire of the Strotosphere at the north end of The Street, where I knew Five Stars, Royal Flush and Blackjack were spending their honeymoon. I didn’t think much more of it until a griffin courier flew up and hoof-delivered a message from Hard Eight, the pegasus stallion manager of Strotosphere, telling me there’d been an incident in their honeymoon suite and Five Stars was being rushed to Daybreak Hospital. I had a very bad feeling as I read the note, wondering what trouble she and the boys had gotten into. I wasted no time after that, informing my ranking floor boss that I was heading for the hospital and he would be in charge for the duration, mustering my magic for a long-range teleport. It’d cost about a third of my power to do so over that distance, but if Five Stars was in trouble, I wasn’t about to wait for a chariot. Arriving at the hospital entrance in a flash of light and a moment of dizziness, I hurried to the Emergency Room—there are enchantments that prevent you from teleporting directly inside as a security measure—where I found Five Stars thrashing about, being held down by several earth ponies and unicorns while the medics tried to attend her; I wasn’t encouraged by the bewildered and worried looks I saw on their faces. “What’s wrong with her?” I asked one of the doctors, very alarmed at what I saw. “Overdose! Some kind of exotic booster! We’ve never seen a reaction of this intensity before!” the earth pony mare told me. “She needs more of it, but we don’t know exactly what she took! If we could figure out just what was in it, we might be able to cobble something together from our own stores, but…” “Let me probe her memory,” I offered, stepping forward, willing to do whatever I could to help despite the potential danger to myself—entering a pony’s mind when they’re in that state isn’t exactly safe for either party. “She knows me and won’t fight me.” I hope, I didn’t add, knowing if she did, we could both end up hurt. The doctors glanced at each other and then nodded and stepped back, allowing me to approach her, unicorns trying to hold her still with their magic. I lowered my head and touched my horn to her forehead, calling to her mentally, letting her hear my voice in her mind and feel my familiar aura around her. To my relief, she calmed down instantly and accepted my presence, clinging to it like a foal to her mother. I sensed her agony and need, her fear and confusion over what was happening; my heart broke at her begging me to make the pain stop. Dulling it as much as I could, I asked her with my thoughts what had happened and was immediately assaulted by a series of memories of the night before—her night out with the boys, the show, their move to their suite at the Strotosphere, and then… You’ll forgive me if I’d rather not recount what I saw. All I will say is the more memories of that night she replayed, the madder I became. With a parting assurance that I was there and she would be fine, I broke the connection to tell the doctors what she’d taken; my heart sank when I was told that giving her regular boosters was out of the question—that for something so potent, she needed the exact potion she’d taken, or she would likely die of her dependency on it within the next hour. Their options were few, and Royal Flush and Blackjack were nowhere to be seen; I couldn’t help but wonder if they’d skipped town after realizing what they’d done. If they have and left her to die, I swear to Celestia I’ll~! As if on cue, there was a sudden commotion in the back and I heard a pair of familiar, and very frantic voices. Royal Flush and Blackjack burst through the door to the Emergency Room, security ponies hard on their heels. Royal Flush was cradling some kind of package in the crook of his foreleg while Blackjack was running interference for him, keeping the guards off him long enough to deliver his precious cargo. They were a mess, with hoof-shaped bruises on their chest and backs, what appeared to be still-bleeding talon slashes on their faces and flanks, a couple missing secondary feathers from their wings, and a slew of singe marks all over their mane and fur from what had to be unicorn spellcasting. They looked like they’d both been through the wringer and had a near-panicked look in their eyes when they saw me, flaring their wings hard to skid to a stop right in front of me. “R-Rising Star!” Royal Flush got out, panting hard. I gave their beaten bodies barely a glance, more interested in the small box he was carrying. “Is that more of the booster she took?” I guessed without preamble, giving myself a rebuke for my earlier thought. The boys were many things, but they were categorically NOT cowards. At the first sign of a nod, I yanked the package out of his grasp and quickly picked the enchanted lock with my magic—there were multiple sealing and concealment spells on it, but I’ll say without any humility that I’m a very strong unicorn and you don’t live in this town as long as I have and reach my position without learning a few tricks. A magical tweak here, a spell there, and… the lid popped open to reveal six vials, all filled with a glowing orange liquid. I snatched the first one up in my magic and brought it over to Five Stars. I could tell just by holding it in my aura how potent it was; there had to be at least a dozen separate enchantments of various intent and intensity infused into it. Incredibly illicit. And unbelievably dangerous to give to a first-time user. And they gave her THIS? I couldn’t believe Royal Flush and Blackjack had been so selfish and stupid. “Thank you. Now stand aside,” I ordered, glaring at them as I passed the vial to the attending doctors. They wanted to first test the potion to see exactly what spells were in it, but with Five Stars fading fast, there was no time. So they gave her half the potion intravenously, speeding it into her system. To my great relief her vitals began to stabilize, and ten minutes later she was pronounced out of immediate danger. With that, I turned to my soon-to-be-former poker and 21 pit bosses, my wrath quickly rising. “I hope you enjoyed your night out,” I began ominously; I felt my eyes start to glow and quickly moved away from anything combustible—powerful unicorns like myself can sometimes manifest elemental magic like fire when we’re extremely angry. “Because for what you did to her, that was the last one you’re going to have for a very long time!” I announced, pronouncing sentence on them both. “You two are fired. And I’m turning you both over to the police.” “But… for what?” Blackjack asked in a tone like a petulant child. I gave him a disbelieving look. “For HER!” I said, pointing at Five Stars, who was still shivering and unconscious despite the infusion of fresh booster. “I trusted you. She trusted you. And THIS is how you repay it?” I told them both, my mane starting to smoke and my body feeling ready to erupt in flames—that had only happened once before in my life, and I wasn’t about to let it happen again in a hospital if I could help it. Their eyes went wide in fear at my display but neither moved immediately. “Excuse me? Are you looking at us?” Blackjack finally stepped forward, showing off his injuries, wild-eyed and lip trembling. He spat blood on the floor to emphasize the point; when he opened his mouth I saw he was missing several teeth. “Do you realize what we had to GO through to get these to her?” I didn’t want to hear it, struggling to keep my surging anger and emotion-fueled magic under control. “Nothing compared to what she’s going through.” “Dammit, listen to us, Star! We did everything we could to save her!” Royal Flush insisted, wincing like he had broken ribs, one of his eyes blackened and nearly swollen shut. “When we realized she was addicted, we called the ambulance and then went to our supplier for more of that potion but she tried to extort us! Demanded 50,000 bits to save her life! We had to go in and steal it, then fight our way out!” “And she’s still after us!” Blackjack added, making a point of looking over his shoulder. “And so’s probably the other half of her gang! What the buck else do you want from us? We did it for HER!” he pointed a hoof at Five Stars. I was completely unsympathetic, and judging by the disgusted looks of the attending staff and security, I wasn’t the only one. “Oh. And now you want a medal? You think that makes you heroes given it was you who PUT her in that state?” I snarled, feeling my mane start to smoke again. “You two are going back to jail for this. Don’t even think otherwise.” “But… we weren’t trying to hurt her! Just show her a good time like you said!” Royal Flush insisted, near tears. “She said she hardly got any action in her last herd, so we wanted to make sure she did in this one!” I couldn’t hold it back any longer. “Do you call THAT a good time?” I exploded, my mane and tail erupting into bright yellow flame as I pointed with a hoof again at my protégé’s shivering, disheveled form. “You nearly KILLED her!” My hoof came down hard enough to crack the floor tile. “But… she enjoyed it…” Blackjack offered weakly. “If you ask her, she’ll tell you…” Either from my fiery mane or glowing red gaze, the look I gave him was enough to make him take a step backwards—and several nearby security staff members, who were all watching me warily. With effort, I forced the flames out, knowing a hospital was a bad place to lose my temper. I didn’t lose my eye glow, though. “I don’t have to. I looked in her memories, Blackjack,” I told him, causing him to cringe. “And that’s how I know you didn’t help her. You helped yourselves,” I told them ominously, lowering my head and flattening my ears, beginning to approach them slowly, almost like a predator, smoke still coming off my mane. “She said to both of you—twice!—that she wasn’t ready but you pressured her into it.” “B-but…” Blackjack started to stammer. I cut him off with a fiery glare. “Now, I can forgive trying to help her past a minor case of cold honeymoon hooves, and yes, I did see that she enjoyed it while it lasted. But what I will NOT forgive is your selfishness and rank stupidity—that you not only gave her something so dangerous without even asking if she’d used boosters before, but that you didn’t tell her what was in it or everything it would DO to her! You also didn’t listen to her when she said no to going beneath the tail,” I recited, my anger growing and internal temperature rising with every word I spoke to the point I wondered if not just my mane but my entire body would alight—it’s an intimidating spectacle all right, but it’s also very dangerous to both me and those around me. “You two bucked up. And you bucked HER up very badly!” “We didn’t know it would do that to her! Nopony ever reacted to it like that before! We swear it won’t happen again!” Royal Flush pleaded. “Please don’t turn us in…” he got down on his knees, lowering his head and presenting his wounded wings in a sign of pegasi submission. “Give us another chance, Star… let us make this right!” My mane and tail erupted back into fire at the question, even hotter than before—how DARE they ask for such a thing! “No, I will not…” I stood up and stalked over them, a fury in my voice and heat in my body that could melt steel as I entertained some decidedly… inharmonious thoughts going through my head. “Because you two are going back to prison for this. And even when you get out, if you EVER bucking do that to another mare…” my horn flared and both Royal Flush and Blackjack suddenly stiffened, genuine fear in their eyes as they felt my aura focus on the base of their testicles, closing in like scissors around them. I let them stand there sweating for a bit, my magic threatening to relieve them of their malehood right then and there—and I swear to Celestia that as angry as I was, I came within an ace of doing it. “I give you my word that I. Will bucking. Geld you,” I spoke quietly but showed my teeth; between that, my glowing eyes and fiery mane I was later told I looked like a spirit of vengeance right out of the old myths. “Now get out of my sight!” “Yes, Ma’am!” They both barely croaked, and both collapsed to the floor when my aura released them, shaking badly as they both stumbled out of the room and into the waiting clutches of the police. Completely broken, they didn’t resist as wing and hoof cuffs were placed upon them and were led away. * * * * * Slowly cooling off, I stayed at Five Stars’ side after that, knowing she still had a rough road ahead—booster addiction isn’t easy to break under the best of circumstances, and an illicit, multi-headed mega potion like that made it exponentially more difficult. Even with a fresh dose of the booster, she wasn’t out of the woods yet. As she said, the only way to both save her and break the addiction was to keep giving her the booster but slowly step down the dose over a period of days, let her body gradually adjust until we could finally wean her off it entirely… praying that we could do so before the additional potion the two boys procured ran out. The problem was… the cure was in some ways worse than the disease. Giving her a measured dose of the booster took care of one craving but traded it for another—and she got very, shall we say… needy. Sexual cravings were another side effect of a very illegal potion, so I stayed at her side for the next several days and… did what I had to, holding her in my arms and giving her relief with my tongue and magic when she needed it. I’m not going to detail it because I’m not at all proud of it; I can safely speak for both of us when I say it’s not something we would have done otherwise. Now, I readily admit I’ve been known to occasionally tuck a younger mare—and yes, before anypony points this out, I did make a pass at Five Stars on New Year’s Eve, backing off when it became clear she wasn’t comfortable—but by Celestia, not like THIS! Giving her relief like that was quite simply the only way she could get any rest and her body could heal, and the hospital staff looked the other way when I did so… though there were a couple times she repaid the favor to me while under the influence of the booster. I couldn’t say no under those circumstances without hurting her fragile psyche and to my mingled shame and pleasure, she did get me off more than once. By the end of it, I was no longer fighting it, if for no other reason than to protect my own psyche. She got better in fits and starts as the doctors slowly stepped down the dosage. Sometimes she was almost lucid, other times she cried and called to me like she was a foal and I was her mother. So I fulfilled that role, holding her to me and lending what comfort my body and magic could… even letting her suckle me when she wanted to, going so far as to cast a lactation spell to enhance the effect. It did help. At first, she needed to be serviced sexually every hour or so. Then every couple hours as the dose was lessened. Then every few hours. Then twice a day. Then once a day. And then finally… out of potion, we took her off it completely and hoped for the best. She had a rough couple nights, but, now cognizant of what had happened to her, she toughed it out and broke the remaining addiction. I knew that she was going to be fine when she finally asked for food eight days after that fateful night, having been fed intravenously for the duration. Upon hearing that, I hugged her and cried. * * * * * As for Royal Flush and Blackjack, I didn’t see them again (or want to) until their trial. They didn’t contest the charges, looking just as broken and forlorn as they’d been after I put my proverbial hoof in their plots. In return for a slightly reduced sentence, they gave up all the information they had on their supplier of the booster, who had skipped town long before—I should note they were also given consideration for having pretty well trashed the griffin-run gang responsible in their efforts to get the potion to Five Stars. That’s my boys. Have to give them credit for that much at least—they bucked up but went through Tartarus and back to save her, and perhaps because of that, I found I could eventually forgive them. If I saw Five Stars as my daughter, I saw them as my (slightly wayward) sons, and the mother in me did give them the second chance they begged for once they’d served their time. But that lay in the future. For the time being, I had to deal with the wreckage of a broken workplace herd… but that I’ll allow Five Stars to explain. Thank you, Rising Star. I know this probably wasn’t easy to remember or write down. Reading through your account now, though, I’m learning several new things. I didn’t know the lengths they went to get me that potion, and I certainly wasn’t aware that you threatened to geld them. Considering how they turned out, I’m very glad you didn’t. I only have very vague memories of those first few days; I don’t really remember you probing my memories but I do remember calling for my mother, hearing an answer and being held by you. You did reach me and your presence was a lifeline I clung to. And for that I am forever grateful. As for the rest… like you said, you did what you had to do. I’m not going to go into it either, even if my memories of it weren’t too hazy to recall. It’s just not something I want to remember. Aftermath It was an ugly situation, and in the end, nopony escaped unscathed. For violating the terms of their probation, to say nothing of the fresh charges resulting from my overdose on an illegal booster potion, Royal Flush and Blackjack went back to prison for two years, losing their jobs and half their herd. I couldn’t stay with them after having my trust betrayed like that, and I wasn’t the only ones—Cocktail and Windfall also left them over what they’d done to me, while Bluegrass and Madcap stayed but blamed me for it happening, saying they’d never had a problem with the boosters themselves and I was in effect punishing them just for having a bad reaction to it the brothers couldn’t have foreseen. Foreseeable or not, I annulled our union as soon as I was able. As Rising Star said, it took over a week before I was fully free of the addiction; a week more before I was well enough to leave the hospital, and it would be many months before I could even think of having sex or look at another stallion—or mare—again. I couldn’t stay in Las Pegasus after that. There was no way I could have the same relationship with Rising Star after what she’d done for me, no way I could continue working at the Mystique with coworkers whispering about me behind my back or in the face of the anger and resentment of Bluegrass and Madcap, now deprived of their herd and herd stallions. Nor was working elsewhere in the city really an option; I found that everywhere I went now reminded me of that night... and the ordeal that followed. Thus, I left Las Pegasus less than three weeks after my abortive honeymoon. Rising Star understood my need to leave but was still very sorry to see me go, giving me a generous severance package and a glowing letter of recommendation, asking me to keep in touch with her and let her know where I settled. I was sorry to leave her as well; she was a mother to me and a mare I’ve respected like no other before or since… but after how she’d helped me in the aftermath of the addiction, it was simply no longer possible to maintain our relationship on those terms. Addiction or no, there was no guarantee I wouldn’t eventually end up in bed with her again, and the inappropriateness of sleeping with my manager aside, I didn’t want to cause trouble between her and Limelight. Before leaving, I did ask her to do one more thing for me, though. The very day I got out of the hospital, I found a letter from Willow and Snow Lily waiting for me. Cayenne’s herd had finally, inevitably crumbled and my former herdmates were now without a job, fired by Autumn and blacklisted by her from working in Manehattan. So I asked Rising Star to find them work in Las Pegasus, and especially for Willow, help her relaunch her singing career. That’s never easy to do, even in this town, never mind the fact she was a thestrel. “Just make sure you don’t tell anypony they’re my friends,” I had to instruct her, fearing that the disfavor that had settled on me would fall on them as well. She said she would not. I met Willow and Snow Lily halfway at the train station in Canterlot and told them what had happened. We shared a good cry for our hurt and failed herds. Their grief, at least, was short-lived. Rising Star was as good as her word, and I soon received word that the two were settling in, Snow Lily in her new job at the Palisades spa and Willow… Well. I got a picture of her as a lounge singer at the Strotosphere, dressed and dolled up like I’d never seen her before. Have to say she looked VERY happy, that thestrel server mare I’d seen before on one shoulder and a griffin eagless on the other, finally in a place where she wasn’t alone; where her looks made her exotic and desirable instead of an object of suspicion and shunning… She’s still there now, and with Rising Star’s help and coaching, she’s become a singer and entertainer of considerable repute, even starring in the Las Pegasus production of Albtraum über dem Opernhaus. So at least I can say there were some happy endings to this whole affair. Snow Lily is likewise still there, now running the spa at the Palisades and her own potion business on the side; she and Willow remain as inseparable and in love as ever even as they joined a new herd… and are now raising foals. But that lay in the future, and I would play no further role in it. It was time for me to start over yet again, and it wasn’t any easier to do than it was before. There were tears in my eyes as I boarded a train to leave Las Pegasus for the final time, this time with Rising Star and few other staff members to see me off. My destination was Baltimare. This time, I would start over on familiar turf, with the support of my siblings… like I belatedly realized I should have done before. * * * * * As for Royal Flush and Blackjack… they served their sentence, got out, and like me started over for a second time. It took a few years, but they eventually regained their old jobs and rebuilt their herd; I got regular reports from Rising Star on how they were doing and trying to atone. They wrote me a few times, saying how very sorry they were and what foals they had been, giving me their solemn oath they would never let what happened to me happen to anypony else again. I wrote them back just once to say I wished them well, but I preferred not to hear from them again. The pain of broken trust was just too great and the memories of the addiction and agony too fresh. To their credit, I have it on good authority from Rising Star and some others whose word I trust that they’ve kept their promise. In truth, I daresay it took fatherhood to finally settle them down; a decade later they’ve sired five foals between them with a sixth on the way. From the reports I’ve gotten, they’re devoted daddies and in my eyes they did redeem themselves for it… though there was one final shock regarding those two to come, which I’ll explain in a future article. Given that, there are times I wonder if I shouldn’t have stayed and given them a second chance they both begged for. But even now, looking back on it from nine years later… I think the answer is ultimately no. If I had, the lesson wouldn’t have been driven home for any of us and the same mistakes would likely have been made again. Certain things should have severe consequences, and slipping me that booster without telling me what it was or giving me the full choice is one of them. It’s not even so much what it did to me, or what I did while under its influence… it’s that I wasn’t fully informed about it and like Rising Star said, was pressured into it. Now, if they’d told me what it was at the start; what it would do and the potential consequences of it… if they’d left it my choice whether to take it or not… that would have been one thing, even if I still ended up in the hospital. Then it would be my choice and my responsibility. Perhaps also it would have been fine if I’d built up to it as they and their other mares did; let my body adjust to it… But as Cayenne once said… that’s water under the bridge now. Boosters have their place. They can increase fertility; provide a little extra oomph or the energy for an occasional night of endless fun. They’re fine in moderation—say once or twice a month or so. But they can be addicting and only too easily abused; you can become dependent on them for sexual pleasure. I don’t want that, and having had such a close call, I’ve never taken another booster, legal or otherwise, since. This has become a cautionary tale I tell all our trainees. Accordingly, we make sure gentlemen are fully appraised about the effects of boosters and other magics, potion or otherwise, the risks and side effects of them, and to make sure their clients are as well—we’ve actually had instances of Gentlemen leave clients because they were uncomfortable with the magic they were being asked to submit to; anything from a potion to temporarily transform their organs into a stallion’s to a unicorn mare who I heard wanted to magically give her gentlemen a second phallus in order to… Well. Use your imagination as to both what she intended… and what could have happened if the spell went wrong or the Gentleman in question had a bad reaction to an untested incantation. Magic can accomplish miracles, anything from curing insomnia to opening portals to other words. It has its place and purpose. But it also has risks and can be overused, even addictive if you’re not careful. You can become dependent on it for one thing or another. I guess the main lesson here is… there is ALWAYS a trade-off; a price you have to pay for its boons. I daresay the same is true for human ‘magic’; your technology is equally miraculous to us in many ways—case in point, I’m dictating this article on a human ‘tablet’, editing it by holding a ‘stylus’ in my mouth, tapping the screen to move words around on it—but we’ve seen the costs of it as well, in terms of pollution, chemical addictions and some absolutely horrific weapons. It’s little different here, ultimately. Before I sign this article off, I made a promise that in return for telling this tale, I would allow Royal Flush and Blackjack the chance to address my readers themselves. I now present their letter here, without editing or redaction: Well, Five Stars… We knew this was coming; you warned us. But that doesn’t make this any easier for us to read. In allowing this story to be told, we only ask that you publish this letter so we can at least apologize to your readers the same way we tried to apologize to you. After agonizing over what to say in this letter for days, we’ve settled on simply this: we’re very sorry for the hurt we caused you, and we can only hope that we have in some small way atoned in your eyes. We do appreciate your efforts to hide our identities, including the aliases and false descriptions you gave of us (for those who want to know, we’re actually white stallions with dark red and blue manes), but in reality… there’s not many ways you can hide a pair of card-playing pegasus brothers who run the poker and 21 rooms at the Mystique. Ponies—and some humans—have already approached us, asking if we’re the ones Five Stars talked about. And… we’ve already received some hate mail and outright threats over it. Now, you know us—we can take care of ourselves and don’t usually give a buck what other ponies think of us outside of Rising Star, our casino patrons, and our herd. But what’s different now—and what that whole disastrous episode taught us in the end—is that we can’t just think about ourselves any more. We have mares and foals we’re responsible for, and we have to put them first. Fatherhood has indeed mellowed us in ways we’ve found surprising but wouldn’t give up for either world now. It’s made us both better ponies. That said, please understand that some things about us will NEVER change—we like to push boundaries and bend the rules. It’s who we are; both Rising Star and our mares understand this as well. But we’re a little more selective about when we do it now; we realize that there’s a time for it and time not. Maybe that was one of the things that originally attracted us to YOU, Five Stars—in many ways, you’re the same; you like to push boundaries too between what we’ve read in these articles, to say nothing of how you train human Gentlemen. Can’t say we’ve had any experience with them (aside from seeing a few at our tables entertaining clients), but we HAVE had some encounters with human women (with the permission of our mares!) No, we haven’t used those potions on them, nor would we—not just because we remember what happened to you and haven’t touched them since, but because, quite frankly… if we had to resort to them, we wouldn’t be the ‘smooth operators’ (a human term) we like to think ourselves as. But therein lies both our greatest fault and asset: our pride. We always saw ourselves as kind of these Robin Hoof figures who stole from the casinos and gave it back to the servers and greater public… maybe spending a little on ourselves in the process. In our minds, we lived life large and helped other ponies (and now in some cases, people) to do the same; we always prided ourselves on the fact that nopony ever got hurt by our escapades… until you. And in hurting you, we hurt ourselves. And Rising Star. And the other mares of our herd. Can’t tell you how many times we’ve wished we could have that night back and undo everything we did to you. We honestly did want you in our herd and then to not only lose you but nearly KILL you through our own foalish selfishness and stupidity… Saying we felt awful afterwards would be putting it too mildly. It was a very bitter pill to swallow for us both, but you’re right—your leaving us was probably the only way we were going to learn that certain things just aren’t acceptable; that our choices have consequences. And when it came down to it, Rising Star was right as well, no matter how much we tried to convince ourselves otherwise—we gave you that potion more to help ourselves than help you, and ended up hurting you very badly in the process. Some things you just never live down, and we’ll carry the shame of what we did to our graves. Making amends for this has not been easy, either in prison or after we got out. Cost us you, half our remaining herd, and it took a long time to get back into Rising Star’s good graces since we’d lost that most intangible and valuable of qualities—her trust. For the record, you’re not the only pony who sees her as a mother figure; the thought that we’d disappointed HER was almost as unbearable as the knowledge we’d hurt you. We don’t have any right to ask this of you—or your readers, now—but please forgive us. We wronged you in a way that we know we can never fully atone for or take back. So if you’re ever willing… we would very much like to see you again to do what we were unable to do back then—apologize directly. And a couple old friends of yours would like to see you as well. Signed, —Aces Up, a.k.a. “Royal Flush” —Double Down, a.k.a. “Blackjack” Thank you for the letter, boys. In return, let me say this to you and all my readers. Something I’ve never said until now: I forgive you. As I have watched from afar via Rising Star and those old friends in particular, you have proven in word and deed that you’ve changed, that you’ve learned from your mistakes—which is more than I can say for some ponies I’ve met over the years. Stallions who seek the forgiveness of mares always earn extra consideration in my book, and you two went above and beyond the call, both in obtaining the additional booster and later becoming the best fathers and herd stallions you could. I wasn’t actually aware of what you went through to get more of that potion until I read Rising Star’s account. Thank you for that. And yes, I believe that at this point, I would be willing to see you both again. So I would ask of all my readers: please do not trouble these two. They bucked up, and very badly. But they’ve done their damnedest to make up for it as well. They are, at heart, good ponies who want to do right by others. For them and the sake of their mares and foals, please leave them be. > Part 9: Intermission - Q&A with Five Stars > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – Reader Q&A By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines May 18 issues Dear readers: This is not going to be a regular article, but rather, a Q&A session where I answer reader questions the two magazines and I have received via letters over the past several months. Consider it an intermission of sorts. At the insistence of Platinum and some others, I am going to be taking a break from my writing and my duties as a trainer after I send this out for publication. There are some old friends I need to catch up with, and I’ve decided that now is the time to do so. I will be heading out for what I like to think is a well-deserved vacation, and there will likely be a six week gap before my next article. But first… here are the questions and letters we’ve decided to share. Some are supportive, some not, some are thoughtful, some downright hateful. But they’re certainly representative of the spectrum of opinions that are out there. This seems a good one to start with: Hi Five Stars. I’m not a gentleman or client, I’m a woman doing a thesis on the differences in our cultures for my master’s degree in anthropology. So I’d like to ask: Besides the more… physical aspects of humanity, what are other things that you find interesting about our species? Any of our music, literature, films, cultures, religions, history—the good and the bad—things like that? —A Grad Student Wow. Where to begin? Humans are all at once an amazing and exasperating race to me. I could spend hours trying to answer this, but here I’ll keep it brief: First, the good: What I find the most incredible about humanity is that a species that so lacks in both magic and harmony nonetheless made the climb to intelligence and civilization, never mind your inability to control the weather. Lacking magic, you invented your own, lacking harmony, you came up with some very clever systems of incentives and social structures to get along at least well enough to advance. Your technology is miraculous and in some ways surpasses our magic, the sheer diversity and variety of your cultures are amazing, and I love some of your movies and music—the first time I saw Lord of the Rings I was enrapt; the first time I heard Ode to Joy I cried. With regards to the former, your action films are at times a very guilty pleasure for me, seeing muscular males in battle, fighting for their homes and each other. I love strong male role models—we don’t have enough of them in our own entertainment media but your movies have them in spades. I also love evocative music, and it amazes me how well you’ve mated them up in your movie soundtracks. I could listen to some of them all day. Sexually, you’re far more accepting of certain orientations than ponies are, at least in more developed cultures, which is both surprising and welcome to me. Chiefly, you don’t have the stigma we do of being born out of herdlock (“misborn”) or being a colt-cuddler (gay). But with the good also comes the bad. Despite being more accepting of gay males, you’re sexually far more repressed than we, and it shows in many ways. Fear of nudity (why?) Shaming of those who don’t conform to sexual standards (Though I grant ponies are guilty of this too). Emphasizing abstinence over education on one hoof; what I see as efforts by some of your females to muzzle and in effect geld your males on the other. I’ll have more to say on that later, but what I’m referring to here is the way your females sometimes seem to hold your males to impossible standards and then berate them for not meeting them. Then there’s the truly ugly. Your violent history. The constant strife and conflict among your nations and ideologies. The deliberate breeding and subsequent slaughter of animals for meat—I get that you’re omnivores, but that’s a hard thing for a pony to understand or accept. The use of religion as a means to attack or resist change… or to justify murder on a mass scale. The development and use of truly horrific weapons. Barbaric customs of certain cultures like female circumcision or keeping of women as property. The reflexive attacks on those who think or suggest different, automatically assuming the worst about them. There’s too much talking—or shouting—and not enough listening, from what I’ve seen and heard. If there’s one thing I do NOT like about humans, it’s how you magnify your differences far above and beyond what circumstances call for, and how readily you turn it into hate, conflict and sometimes outright war. This is not to say Equestrians haven’t fought wars, we have, but… with nothing close to the intensity or frequency you have. Now all that said, I agree with Princess Twilight Sparkle that the good and potential good of humanity far outweighs the bad, and I’m very glad we found you. Our races need each other, and I think that as species, we’re natural partners that will complement each other quite well. We’re catalysts for each other’s development; in truth I think our culture was starting to stagnate before humanity came along. Bottom line—there’s a lot we can learn from and do for each other, and despite the upheaval that humans have brought, I think they’re the best things that could have happened to us. What exactly are your training methods? How do you… condition, shall we say, new Gentlemen? Furthermore, did you get all of your experience purely from your past experiences? Of course. Experience comes by doing. Practicing. That’s why I and my fellow trainers use sex itself to teach our recruits how to please a mare, and why a gentleman spends many months in training. Nobody, human or pony, is going to get rutting right the first time; it’s simply not something you can just read in a book and expect to be good at (in fact, for as unrealistic as some romance books make it, I strongly advise AGAINST getting sex tips from them!) As for conditioning… well, part of it is in bedroom, part of it is in the gym. We have some purely physical trainers amongst our staff as well. A Gentleman must meet certain strength and stamina requirements before he’s pronounced fit to serve. We believe that hard bodies equals hard… well, you know. Sex may be natural, but being good at it must be learned. Humans and ponies are perfectly compatible, but it takes some time and training to really understand how each other’s body works and how best to proceed in the bedroom (though to be sure, the same holds true for any relationship regardless of species). But once you do… needless to say, a whole new world opens up, not unlike the portal between Earth and Tellus. What do you regret most about your past? Oh, I have plenty of potential regrets, mostly of paths not taken. I could very easily be the mother of Cayenne’s foals or the right-hoof mare of Rising Star if things had turned out just a little differently… and occasionally I wonder what would have happened if they had. But potential is all they are. I wouldn’t trade this life for anything. In that sense, I can’t regret my choices or what woe has occasionally befallen me, for in the end, they led to somewhere far better. I’m happy in my life now, and I couldn’t say that for a long time. I will say I do have some real regrets regarding certain ponies and people. Chief among them prospective gentlemen I lost because I misread, or bedded when they weren’t well and truly ready, scaring them off or even hurting them emotionally. I’m a little too aggressive sometimes and it’s gotten me in trouble; I’ve also antagonized some coworkers I didn’t need to and ended up on less-than-stellar terms with. I guess my bottom line is that I know I’m not perfect, but I can’t regret where I’ve been or the things I’ve done… because without them, I wouldn’t have gotten here. Ultimately, this is where I belong. This is what makes me happy. I really don’t get why you’re so big on our guys. They’re all a bunch of jerks who just want one thing then dump you when they get it! Of course they’d go for girls who give it to them, even if they had four legs! Of course they want one thing. They’re male. It’s in their nature and that is not in itself wrong. The urge to procreate is always there, as is the need to feel good both physically and about ourselves, seek validation of our identities as males or females. That’s not something they should be made to feel bad about, and trying to shame them for simply looking appreciatively at a girl or wanting to ‘get their rocks off’ is wrong. Now I know there are some bad apples out there—I’ve met one or two myself (as you’ll find out later). But human men are far from the ‘bunch of jerks’ you claim; I’ve met many—I daresay the strong majority, in fact—who just wanted to be treated well and appreciated for their efforts and for being male. When they came to the Equestria, many men found that for the first time, they were, and then reciprocated. This is where our reversed gender roles come into play. Our mares are like your males in that they often struggle to get attention from the opposite sex and have to work harder to obtain it. Given that, it’s no wonder man and mare take to each other so readily—they’ve discovered they can get what they want from each other, for mutual fun and benefit. I don’t get it. You say you’re not into mares, but you’ve been with them on multiple occasions. Sure you don’t prefer them instead? Positive. But just because I don’t prefer them doesn’t mean I can’t on occasion enjoy them. Remember that intra-mare relationships are normal among ponies because stallions are so few. Stallions or no, we still need companionship and help during our heats; if we stuck exclusively to males we’d be hard up quite frequently. That’s not healthy, whether in heat or out of it. I’d also note that with one or two exceptions, the mares I’ve been with were my herdmates or when I was in season… or under the influence of a potion. Given the choice I’ll take a male every time, but for so many mares, that choice just isn’t there. And speaking of potions… Any idea where a guy could get his paws on some of those boosters you took? By Celestia, did you not read the previous article? You don’t WANT those boosters. They’ll give you and your partner the best night of your life, then very possibly end it. They’ll let you fly and then rip off your wings to leave you plummeting back to earth, and you’ll hit the ground hard, perhaps fatally. Is addiction and death really worth it to you? Now if you want to try the legal booster potions, I think those are currently only available on our side of the portal. You’ll have to come here to try them, but be careful. There’s often no telling how humans react to magic they haven’t experienced before. Do you find it annoying, saddening, or a combination of both that humans against this form of mingling are primarily against it because they consider ponies in general to be lesser life forms? It’s kind of ironic given some ponies object for the exact same reason except aiming the insult at us. Although, most ponies disagree due to the “comfort horse” stigma, correct? I think maddening is the word I would use. Almost invariably, when I meet a new human, the first thing I have to do is help them see us as something other than beasts. I can’t say this enough—we’re not animals. I don’t like the presumption that we are or are somehow beneath you because we walk on four legs and don’t wear clothes; that the simple fact we look like small horses from your world somehow makes us as unintelligent as one. If you want to go that route, you look like hairless apes to us, and we don’t have any intelligent primates in our world. By this logic, we should look down on humans as beneath us for the same reasons—though as you noted… to be fair, some do. I wouldn’t say it’s ironic so much as expected—everyone wants to believe their side superior, after all. So I’ll say here what I always tell such humans when I’m trying to recruit them: Look past the superficial similarities to your world’s horses. Can you seriously consider a race of ponies who walk, talk, think, a race that fought wars and has harnessed magic, a race who built cities and carved their civilization out of a magical wilderness in the face of monsters, dragons, and rival races, as mere beasts? We’re proud of our accomplishments as a species. We don’t appreciate being called animals or savages any more than you. How many species have you fooled around with? What can you tell us about those experiences? I have been with species other than humans, but you will forgive me if I decline to elaborate for now. The reason is that there will be an entire article devoted to such an encounter and attempt at an interspecies relationship later. I’d rather answer this question then. My mare left me for a Gentleman and I blame YOU! She started seeing one behind my back and ended up leaving me for a human! What are we supposed to do? Stallions can’t compete with human fingers! I don’t know your situation, but I can promise you this much—your mare didn’t leave you because of fingers. I can just about guarantee she left you because she was treated by said Gentleman far better than you treated her. She left you because she realized she could have something better; that she could be with a partner who worshipped her, who would treat and fete her, who could make her feel good physically and feel good about herself. That has nothing to do with fingers or even with Gentlemen, but everything to do with taking her for granted and not seeing to her needs. Here are some questions to ask yourself: How often did you rut her? Did you ever ask her what she wanted, or simply tell her what you did? Did you ever ask her if she was satisfied or see to her needs? Did you just expect her to be there on your terms and do the things you wanted to? Did you care about her and her pleasure, or only your own? Again, I don’t know your situation, but I’m pretty sure you’ll find the reasons for her departure in the answer to those questions. But just to prove that’s not a strictly pony phenomenon… Thanks to perverts like you pushing pony sex, my boyfriend left me for a MARE! Said she was better than me in bed and dumped me for a fucking HORSE! How fucking sick and twisted can you get? And you’re actually ENCOURAGING this? Stick to your own kind and stop poaching our men! Two things: First of all, ponies are NOT your world’s horses, and being referred to as one is just as offensive to us as if we called you apes or monkeys. And second, they are not ‘yours’. Just like I told the stallion in the previous letter, if he left you, you can be sure he left you for what he saw as something better—such as a more mutual and satisfying relationship? Because they’re so starved of it, mares appreciate and reciprocate male attention more than human women, I’ve noticed, and the reverse seems to hold true as well—a lot of human men like the simple fact that their efforts are appreciated, that they don’t have jump through ridiculous cultural hoops and meet impossible standards to land a lady. So I’ll be blunt: our stallions can learn a few things from human men, and I daresay more than a few human women can learn from our mares how to treat and keep a male. Now, I can sympathize with being let go for being a ‘bad lay’. That can be on either party (or both), but it’s a mistake to automatically assume your partner was at fault. So see my previous reply and ask yourself the following: Did you take him for granted? Was your relationship mutual or one-sided, where everything was on your terms? Did you show him respect, or only demand it for yourself and nitpick every little thing he did? That’s a very common refrain I’ve heard from human males. And as a follow-up… What do you hope stallions learn from Gentlemen? Stallions could learn a lot from human males, chief among them how to treat mares better and not take them for granted. Yes, there are some men out there who are just as bad, but human males generally have to at least make a modicum of effort to woo their ladies and present themselves well; prove themselves worthy. Stallions do not, being so few, and it goes to their heads that they don’t have to put out or try—that mares will come to them. No longer. If I could boil down the difference, it would be as follows: stallions define their malehood by how many mares want to give them pleasure; human men tend to define their malehood by how good they are at giving a mare pleasure. There are certainly exceptions to this, but as a general rule it holds. So which one do YOU think the average mare—or woman—would prefer? How do you think the whole of Equestrian society will go on, after the humans? How do you think Equestria (and Earth) will look like X years from now? Well, there’s no doubt a difference between what I hope it will look like and what it WILL look like, but I’ll give you my admittedly idealistic vision. I see far more integrated societies, Tellus magic and human technologies slowly intertwining until both are used alongside each other and exist fully in both worlds. I see us as catalysts for change in each other’s society and culture, and our races accomplishing more together than we could ever had separately. I see our societies slowly merging, eventually becoming one. And above all else, I see the day that Gentleman for Mares is no longer necessary because it’s as normal and natural for a human to be with a pony as it is to take a mate within our own races. I just hope I live to see it. What do you think of stallion/woman relationships? There are a few of them out there, and they could use some support as well. To be honest, I struggle with this one a bit. On the one hoof, I know it would be very hypocritical for me to say stallions can’t do that, but on the other… I still have this ingrained reaction to say that if a stallion is with a human woman, that’s one less available for mares, and we need every stallion we can get. That’s programmed into me as a mare, unfortunately. It honestly surprises me that human women might prefer stallions over men given my experiences with both; I know most human women prefer monogamous relationships and wouldn’t put up with being treated as just one of the herd. Granted, Aces Up and Double Down admitted in their letter they’ve bedded human women, but that actually doesn’t surprise me—those two are pretty much human males in their preferences and the way they treat their ladies anyway (which is usually a good thing); if they feted a human girl like they did me that one night, I’ve no doubt they’d “score”, potion or no. If their mares are fine with it, I suppose that’s that, but still… I’d be lying if I said it didn’t on some level bother me. I’ll override my misgivings and say I support interspecies relationships in general. I’ve heard of everything from human/griffin relationships to dragon/pony pairings. Compatibility questions aside, if it’s loving and consensual, I don’t see any problem with it. If you want to enter into such a relationship, more power to you. Ultimately, such pairings help bring our societies closer together. Have you ever considered finding one man to settle down with permanently, or has permanency run out of second chances? Honestly? I’d consider it with a man at this point, but not a stallion. I’m too soured on the latter now. Too many bad experiences and broken herds, several of which I have yet to talk about. There’s certainly one or two gentlemen I wouldn’t mind forming a more permanent relationship with, however… and may yet. And on a related note… Have you ever considered having foals? And wouldn’t you need a herd to do so? Of course I have. That’s a biological imperative for many mares (or ‘biological clock’ as I’ve heard humans refer to it), a very strong instinct we all have. And had things turned out a little differently with Cayenne or with Aces Up and Double Down, I might well have had them. But now… I just don’t think foals are in my future. I don’t really have any interest in settling down with a stallion, and in many ways consider G4M my herd and my Gentlemen my foals. In some ways, I am raising them, after all! What kind of qualities do you look for in a prospective Gentleman? And on a side note, do you live in Fillydelphia? I recently visited a bookstore there and swear I saw you working there. I’ve never lived in Fillydelphia or worked at a bookstore, sorry. Working as a florist at the Shemareaton Manehattan is as close as I’ve come. You’re not the only one to ask, though. From what others have said, it sounds like there may be a unicorn mare working there that looks a lot like me. But she’s not me, and I’m sure she’s getting tired of being asked. As for the qualities we look for in a Gentleman… we don’t really have a checklist, if that’s what you mean. For some mares, male, human, and breathing is enough, but for us… you need to be single and available to start—we don’t poach men from their families or existing relationships. We don’t require perfect physical specimens, but at least a modicum of good looks and you can be sure you’re going to ‘get ripped’ (a human term for having a chiseled physique) by the time our trainers, both physical and sexual, are through with you. We also don’t discriminate on the basis of age as some mares (like Rising Star) go for older Gentlemen, but needless to say, you do need to be able to perform. We don’t really have a formal recruiting agency per se, our handlers and trainers just kind of stay on the lookout for any man who might make a good Gentleman. Myself, I tend to look for more down-on-their-luck males like I said before, since I tend to think that they’ll be more amenable to the job and end up more compassionate and doting to the mares they service because they remember what it was like to be low. And yes, I find such males easier to bed. I won’t lie about that. It hasn’t always worked out that way, but more often than not it does. Got any tips for a guy with a unicorn marefriend? I’m worried that only sticking to horn play as my best move might make me come off as one note. My advice is very simple: ask her what she likes. Treat her as a mare and individual, not just a unicorn or sex partner. Be her mate and companion. Regardless of race, to paraphrase a human song that’s rather popular in Equestria at the moment… that’s what a girl wants, what a girl needs… Would it be possible for a, well, colt-cuddler to hire a Gentleman? I’m only asking for a friend!!! —a friend of a friend Well. Can’t say I expected this question! I have known some colt-cuddlers (gay stallions) over the years, one in particular that I remember quite fondly. I do not wish to give your friend false hope, as that is something we would have to discuss internally and see if any Gentlemen would be willing to take on such a client—I know there are a few that swing both ways. There would also be the question of what kind of date he would be able to give you, given the difficulties involved with a same-sex couple being seen in public. That’s something I understand gay humans can generally do now, but here in Equestria… not yet, unfortunately. That is another positive influence I hope humans have on us over time, undoing that particular stigma. So the short answer is: not currently. But in response to your question, I have brought the possibility up with Platinum. That is something she will have to decide in tandem with our Gentlemen. I don’t have your return address, so please have your friend write me directly and we’ll see if anything can be arranged. How do you sleep at night, knowing you’re teaching men to be whores and sell themselves to alien horses for a few bits? I sleep quite soundly, because selling sex doesn’t have the same stigma it does for humans. We’re selling a service to answer a need of many mares—a need for male companionship in which sex just plays a part. If you ask our Gentlemen whether they enjoy their work, you’ll get a resounding yes. If you ask our clients if they enjoy the company of Gentlemen, they will also answer in the affirmative. So, it’s win-win for all. They’re happy, more mares are happy, and I’m happy for training them. Why should I lose sleep over any of that? What is your proudest accomplishment as a trainer? My proudest accomplishment is receiving letters like this: Ms. Stars, this isn’t a question. This is me thanking you from the bottom of my heart. I used to be a GFM client, and yes, I went to your company for all the reasons you’ve stated, loneliness for the most part. I admit that at first I hated myself for using your services. I thought I’d sunken to an absolute low to have to resort to ‘human comfort horses’. That was until one of your Gentlemen showed me the most wonderful night of my life. He made me feel whole again… and perhaps broaden my views of where I could find love. And now, I’m getting married to a wonderful man next spring. If you see [redacted], tell him thank you for giving Songbird the confidence to fly again. It’s not my name, but he’ll know who. Also thank you, because I believe he said, “A stubborn, star-butted mare got me into this life!” I can only guess who that was. —A soaring songbird Getting letters like these warms my heart and reminds me of why I do what I do. I’m helping make mares (and men) happy; helping them to find the companionship and love so many never do. Yes, I know the Gentleman in question, and yes, a certain ‘stubborn, star-butted mare’ did recruit him—though from what I recall, HE was the more stubborn one at first. He was tough nut to crack, but I eventually did so… though he never did quite lose his sassy wit. Regardless, I will pass your message along… and might well ask for the whole story from him. That’s from a satisfied customer. To be sure, I also get letters like this one: I am a mare, but I will never be a Gentleman for Mares supporter. For I was on vacation and seduced by a gentlemen named [redacted]. He lied to me, tried to addict me to sex with him, make me fall in love with him. And in the end I’m sad to say I did, but thankfully one of his equally-addicted clients gave him away. I will never forgive him for that. He was a deceiver who just wanted to make me dependent on him for sex and love, turn me into a paying client so he’d have his bits and fun. I hate him for it. He and your entire organization deserve nothing but the greatest contempt and should be shunned by all mares. I will spread the name of this deceiver far and wide to make sure nopony is ever hurt by him again. —SS Hate mail doesn’t usually get a rise out of me. But this one did. I know the Gentleman in question, and I find it very hard to believe he did what you said—he’s one of the nicest, most compassionate humans I’ve known, even among Gentlemen. So hard, in fact, that I asked him what the real story was. Know what he told me? That he spent the better part of a week with you, trying to help you. That your friends all but threw him at you. That he felt sorry for you for being ‘misborn’, for the loneliness and low confidence you suffered for it and that he thought he could help you as he’d helped other mares in the past. That he did so out of the goodness of his heart, not out of any desire to make you a paying client. He admitted he ‘fucked up big time’ with you by not saying he was a Gentleman up front, but you apparently made that nearly impossible by making it clear you hated them for being a comfort horse like your sire. I am sorry you carry the stigma of being misborn; it’s an ugly label I would love to see permanently retired. But you’re wrong to take it out on a man who tried to help you, Gentleman or no. You want a boy or coltfriend, that’s not the way to get one. In any event, I VERY strongly advise you against revealing his name. We can’t legally stop you, but it’s not our lawyers you’d have to worry about. You hurt him in any way, you will answer to me, his handler (speaking from experience, you do NOT want to piss her off), and the many mares he’s helped over the years, ranging from traveling magicians to multiple celebrities. Consider yourself warned. And speaking of one of those celebrities… here’s her perspective on the Gentleman in question: Dear Ms. Five Stars— I have followed your articles with great interest ever since their inception. Your story thus far is one that many mares can relate to, and I, for all my glitz and glamor, am no different. In truth, it was only a few months ago that I had the most wonderful experience with a most special Gentleman, who went by the name of [redacted]. His fee was well-earned that night; truly no stallion had ever treated me so royally as he! But what particularly gratifies me is that I was able to help HIM in turn—he confided in me about a personal issue, and I did my best to talk him through it. That made our encounter mutual and far more special to me for it, allowing me to indulge my more… generous impulses and feel that I had helped him in turn. Gentlemen remain somewhat unpopular in my hometown and amongst some of my friends because of a certain… incident… you’re no doubt aware of, but you will find no stronger supporter of them and what you do then me. In truth, I am rather envious of you—getting to train human stallions on the finer points of lovemaking to help lonely mares is a noble undertaking indeed!—and would offer what support a humble Ponyville fashion designer may. I understand you likely cannot reveal my fine Gentleman’s identity, but I will insist, my dear, that you publish my name with this letter. For I am proud to call myself a Gentleman for Mares client, and look forward to using your services in the future—particularly if I could arrange a return visit from my favorite Gentleman! —Lady Rarity, owner and founder, Carousel Boutique Fashions and Philanthropy (PS: Regardless of whether I see that fine Gentleman again, please tell him I would VERY much like to know if things worked out for him with regards to the issue we discussed!) Wow. For once, I really don’t know what to say. Coming from a pony as renowned and well-regarded as you, this is high compliment indeed, Lady Rarity! I know the Gentleman in question will be very gratified to hear his praises sung by you… as am I. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I promise to pass along your message, and let him answer you himself. The life of a Gentleman has its highs and lows, but receiving missives like this is certainly among the former! And that wraps up this session, and what marks roughly the one-third point of my articles. I have plenty more stories yet to tell, but I’m going to wait a bit before doing so. At Platinum Corona’s direct orders, I am taking a break both from the writing and G4M. In fact, I’m leaving for the train station shortly. Where am I going? All I’ll say is that by the time this article is run, I’ll already be there. I have some old friends to see, and a lot of time to catch up on with them. So in parting, I’d like to express my gratitude to both my human and pony readers for following these articles, and say thanks for all the thought-provoking questions and commentary. But now it’s time for this mare to put down her quill (okay, stylus) and take a well-deserved vacation. I’ll see you all in six weeks! Until then, take care and be well. —Five Stars of Manehattan > Part 10: A Time to Heal > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – A Time to Heal By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines June 29 issues EDITOR’S NOTE: In the eight weeks since the last article, we have reached an uneasy truce with our critics, who have demanded strict access limits to the articles (which we have already implemented) and ‘equal space for opposing views’ as a condition for ending their attempts to have our papers prosecuted. Our editorial pages have always been available for such things, but in accordance with our agreement, such articles will now be published alongside those of Five Stars. Dear readers— Long story short, I’m back. After an… eventful few weeks out west, I’ve finally returned home to Manehattan. I apologize for being coy about my whereabouts during that time, but I was trying not to attract media attention to either myself or those I was trying to visit… an effort that was not entirely successful as I’m sure most of you know by now. I also see there has been continued controversy regarding the articles while I’ve been away. I will have more to say on that once I’ve gotten caught back up and have sorted through the small mountain of reader mail that accumulated in my absence. For those that are curious, I began my vacation with a swing through Appleloosa, where I saw Braeburn for the first time since that fateful New Years’ Night ten years ago. I’ll admit it was a slightly surreal experience seeing him again, meeting him in his cowcolt element and realizing that unlike the first time we met, I was now well out of mine! I got a good fill of frontier life and hospitality, where I was welcomed as family (though somewhat strained in the case of his Ponyville cousin) and thrown a feast using all locally-grown produce washed down with some very potent cider and buffalo whiskey. They initially tried to keep my visit low-key, but word soon got around—I simply stuck out too much, even dressed in a vest and cowpony hat—and both human and pony press began descending on the town. In the end, I couldn’t go anywhere without having a microphone or camera pointed at me—a treatment I’m sorry to say was not spared Braeburn either—and I had to be smuggled out in order to get to my next destination unseen. Wages of celebrity, I guess. I never dreamt writing these articles would grant me a measure of notoriety to say nothing of outright fame. I handled it all as best I could, granting a couple interviews and photo-ops to the reporters I found least objectionable—it amazes me how some ponies and people seem to have nothing better to do with their time than eavesdrop and invade the lives of others. Regardless, I was there to see Braeburn and experience his town, not dodge a pack of paparazzi who shadowed me wherever I went, seemingly trying hard to catch me in a compromising position with Braeburn or anypony else. They ended up disappointed, as Braeburn and I did not engage in any more ‘authentic frontier experiences’ aside from a couple kisses. There were several reasons for this, not the least of which was the complete lack of privacy we had from all the press, but even aside from that, he’s taken and I’m not into stallions so much as men now. But you don’t need to have sex to have a good time, and I thoroughly enjoyed my stay despite the presence of the press… though if I learned nothing else, I learned that despite being an earth pony and wearing Braeburn’s old vest and a new hat, I really didn’t fit in and I’m definitely not cut out for frontier life! I left with new respect for him and a mutual promise to keep in touch in the future, promising to repay his hospitality, give him the royal treatment in return if he ever came east. After a week in Appleloosa I was whisked out in the wee hours of the night, taken by a private thestrel-pulled Chariot to Las Pegasus—thank you, Platinum Corona—and was deposited out front the Mystique where I was met by Rising Star. She’s still there nine years after I left, quite happy with her life, her relationship with Limelight and the occasional evening out with her favorite Gentleman (the one I originally recommended to her, no less!), still going strong and having no plans to retire despite now pushing sixty. We had a good lunch and talk before she teleported us both over to Palisades to bypass the gathering media again, where we met Limelight and I checked out the new G4M offices she and Rising Star had helped set up there. That was a fun afternoon, and something I was very happy to see. I was reunited with Gentlemen I hadn’t seen in months or even years, ones I’d recruited or trained, now hard at work helping other mares. And I’m pleased to report they had absolutely no lack of business; the biggest surprise that greeted me was seeing placards being pulled by earth ponies on The Street and pegasi overhead advertising them! Okay, second-biggest surprise. The biggest surprise I’m reserving for later in the article. It seemed my fame preceded me in Las Pegasus as well. I was both humbled and honored when several mares and men recognized me from my articles and asked for my autograph, thanking me for my G4M role and writing. I was also privileged to see a wedding between man and mare at one of the many Las Pegasus wedding chapels. I actually had mixed feelings about that, knowing how Las Pegasus weddings usually end up, but wished them well. The bride looked very happy, and the groom seemed genuine as well. I hope they make a go of it. Against that, I did catch some dirty looks from a few ponies and people during my stay, and there was at least one instance I got confronted by a rather drunk stallion who complained he’d lost two mares to human men, and blamed me for it. Rising Star’s security teams were having none of it, collaring and hauling him off when he got too belligerent, where he ended up cooling his hooves in the city jail. Return and Reunions I was given a private suite at the Palisades for my stay, since even after nine years I really wasn’t comfortable being in the Mystique again. Too many memories and two certain stallions that were still there, after all… That discomfort could apply to Las Pegasus in general. My worry going in had been that seeing the place again would cause me flashbacks, and I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Thankfully, I didn’t give myself enough credit. I did have a couple shaky moments here and there, one when I first saw the Strotosphere spire and another a little later as you’ll read shortly, but nothing I couldn’t handle. In fact, I was surprised to see the city had changed much in my absence—some old Street stalwarts like the Sand Dunes were gone and new ones like the Symphony were now in their place—so much so that long stretches of The Street were completely different than before. There was even a joint human-pony venture underway, twin towers of stone and steel going up not far north of the Mystique—the Sonata and the Tarot. There was also the fact that this time I was coming for the reason most Las Pegasus visitors do—as a guest on vacation, there to have relax and have fun… Though there would be a couple potentially not-so-fun moments along the way. Meeting Rising Star and Gentlemen I knew had been wonderful, but my next visit promised to be somewhat less so. A few days into my stay, after I’d had time to acclimate and get myself more or less on good terms with the city, I kept my promise to meet Aces Up and Double Down for the first time since… you know. Rising Star arranged for us to have a private dinner well away from the press and other ponies, with Rising Star herself present at my request. I was very glad she was there. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust the boys, it was just… well, I still didn’t trust myself not to have flashbacks when I met them, and wanted Rising Star there to steady me in case I needed it. Thankfully, that wasn’t necessary. Again, I didn’t give myself enough credit, but in all honesty… I didn’t give them enough either. I won’t lie—seeing the boys again was awkward and uncomfortable at first, but that quickly changed with the introduction of their shared five-mare herd and four foals. Their two newest, red-and-blue-haired Pegasus twins barely two months old were named Royal Flush and Blackjack—turned out they’d been named for the original aliases I’d given their daddies! They were unquestionably adorable, and seeing how their fathers loved and doted on them did much to lighten my mood and dispel my remaining doubts about the pair. I’d been told they’d become good herd stallions and papas, and here I finally saw it firsthoof—they really had changed! I was happy for them, but if I’m being honest, I was happiest for myself—for it meant the ordeal I went through had not been for nothing; that they had indeed learned their lessons from what had happened to me. We parted on good terms, but not before the boys—yes, I guess ‘the boys’ is the way I’ll always think of them despite the fact they just turned forty—did what they’d waited ten years to do. They got down on their knees before me and opened their wings in pegasi submission, presenting their vulnerable undersides. They told me how very sorry they were, swearing that they would never let what happened to me happen to another mare—or woman—again. In reply, I told them directly I forgave them, and that as long as they continued to be the best herd stallions and sires they could, I would be proud to consider them my friends. We shared a heartfelt hug before parting; a few tears were shed… though Double Down tried to insist it was just his allergies. When I left, I felt like a burden I wasn’t even aware was there was lifted—that with this meeting and reconciliation, I was finally, fully at peace with them. It was a good feeling. Old Times The rest of my vacation in Las Pegasus passed in a whirlwind for me. I visited separately with Willow and Snow Lily (who have given me permission to use their real names, but I’m going to hold off on that for a bit. Why? You’ll see). That weekend I watched the long-running musical Alptraum über das Opernhaus, starring Willow. And I have to say, as good a singer as she was at the Shemareaton, she was phenomenal now—Rising Star had personally trained her and it showed; her performance garnered a standing ovation from the audience, human and pony alike. I was especially surprised when she took a curtain call at the very end and invited me on stage, introducing me and saying she was dedicating the performance to me! The show was dark the next day, so we had the chance to catch up properly; she and Snow Lily taking a break from their herds, jobs, and even foals to reconnect with me and catch up on ten years apart. On the subject of foals, Willow had her first last year while Snow Lily’s now pregnant with her second and starting to show; I have to say, motherhood and herd life really seems to agree with them both. They’ve balanced their personal and professional lives quite nicely and having found a herd with good stallions, a herd where everypony is on good terms and pitches in has helped a lot. I guess it’s worth noting that this is an example of a successful herd, something I never experienced, or perhaps what my first herd could have been if not for… circumstances. (Stop it, Five Stars.) We had a really good time, doing something we hadn’t done since our original herd days, and even then it had been rare with our work schedules never synchronizing—we had a girls’ night out, hopping from bar to bar, club to club, even gambling a bit, playing games of dice, cards, or just plain dodging the paparazzi that kept hard on my heels. Didn’t win at any of them (except for managing to lose the press one or twice), but I remembered my lessons of Las Pegasus well—you don’t gamble to win money, you gamble to have fun… and we definitely did! As it turned out, in fact, Snow Lily and Willow had a surprise planned for me. Or rather, a pair of them. First, that evening, they treated me for dinner and then took me to see another show, an Earth import they swore was a must-see—The Lion King over at the Andalusian Bay. Admittedly, I was a bit dubious given the premise they described—nothing more than the simple story of a lion cub coming of age?—but after seeing it all I can say was… WOW! It was an amazing story and performance by its all-human cast; the music was magical, the costumes and sets incredible, and the show doubly amazing for the fact that it was done without any magic whatsoever; just some clever props and machinery. And I’m told it’s actually based on an ‘animated’ movie? Interesting… I might have to see if any Gentlemen I work with have a copy. The End… When the show let out towards midnight and our night out was ending, Snow Lily and Willow revealed their second surprise—a night in over at the Strotosphere. They explained they wanted to take me back to the place of my honeymoon and give me a proper one, in a manner of speaking. As you might well imagine, I was less than enthusiastic about the prospect, terrified of heights and of flashbacks—if anything would bring them all back full force, it was staying at the Strotosphere—and the fact that having all the human stallions and male attention I could ever want, I wasn’t really interested in mares any more. But they insisted, saying the choice was mine but they wanted to help me overcome the negative associations I had with the place… and my remaining bad memories of Las Pegasus in general. For them—and only for them—I acceded, though I insisted I wasn’t interested in intimacy. I let Lily cast a cloudwalking spell on me, and we took a chariot up to the top of the tower, where the pegasi manager, Hard Eight (said to be named for both his favorite dice bet and his shaft size!), was waiting to greet me personally, giving me a kiss on the hoof and offering up their best suite for our stay. Despite his efforts to put me at ease, I was definitely feeling some anxiety, my pulse and breathing quickening as I stepped out onto that cloud surface and memories of the last time I was there kept trying to rear up… but with my best friends at my side to steady me, I persevered. Instead of heading right up, we first had a nightcap at the Alicorn Aerie, only retiring to our suite when I was said I was ready. It was pretty much as I remembered it, with a Prince-sized cloud bed and crystal furniture, magical fireplace, a bowl full of flowers and chocolates, and a view out in the big bay window looking right down The Street. Lily gave me her best, most relaxing massage, bringing all her magic and skill to bear on my body while Willow talked with me, held my hoof and occasionally fed me chocolates and flower petals with her mouth—they’d even remembered my favorite brand and breeds! They’d planned it all well, and by Celestia, it was working! I slowly relaxed, giving in to the familiar and remembered touch of my friends. The feedings from Willow started to turn to kisses and Snow Lily’s massage grew gradually more sensual; she slowly dimmed the lights and turned them from a soothing blue to a more suggestive pink and red hue and I soon found myself having flashbacks of a different kind, this time to our herd days when I’d let the pair double-team me. Much to my surprise, I was indeed reacting to their efforts—my breathing quickened, my marehood moistened, and I began to make out with Willow in earnest, recalling well the feel of her muzzle against my own. Shortly thereafter I rolled over on my back and spread my legs to feel sharp thestrel teeth working down my neck while a very practiced tongue began making its way inside me, causing my breath to catch. I couldn’t believe it. It had been ten years since the last time we were together, but those two hadn’t missed a beat. They remembered all my weak spots and everything I liked, and didn’t stop until I was well and truly sated—in fact, if anything they’d gotten even better in that time! Suffice it to say, the night was wild and wonderful, and it was a very good feeling, waking up between them the next morning—feeling the warmth of their love and friendship, both inside and out. Just like old times. Remember how I said before that given the choice between a mare and stallion I’ll take a stallion every time? I may have to rescind that now. Deep and abiding friendship, like I have with Willow and Snow Lily, lends itself well to intimacy regardless of gender. I trust those two implicitly, and that counts for an awful lot. In the end, they did what they set out to do—broke the remaining hold Las Pegasus and that night had over me, healed what remained of that wound. And that alone made this trip worth it. I guess the reason I’m telling this story is so readers understand that there was a time I thought I never would be able to enjoy sex or intimacy again—and that was the weeks and months following my abortive honeymoon. And now that you know the end of my healing from that horrible night, it’s time for me to go all the way back to the beginning. So to reset the scene, I’m now going back nine years, to my departure from Las Pegasus following my honeymoon horror story. The Beginning… Leaving Las Pegasus under the circumstances I did was necessary but no less wrenching for it, as I found myself subjected to the same emotions and more as when I left Manehattan ten months earlier. My body had more or less healed by the time I left the hospital but my psyche had not; by the time I arrived in Baltimare I felt myself falling into a deep depression. I thought distance from Las Pegasus and what happened there would lessen the pain of what was my second failed herd, but I quickly found out how wrong I was. The city was over two thousand miles away, and yet, its hold over me simply did not weaken. My nightmares were unending; my panic attacks were severe—no joke, I went through a period where even looking at a stallion could cause one. Fortunately, I had family—my siblings and especially my older brother—who were there for me. In fact, they were the reason I chose to come to Baltimare. I moved in with my brother and leaned on him heavily for the next few months, trying to come to terms with what had happened to me. He was always there to listen and comfort, always present to hold and steady me. In fact, there was a stretch I went through when I didn’t want to be touched by anypony except him; he became my only connection to the outside world during the worst of it. But as the anxiety attacks intensified and I became increasingly withdrawn, it became clear I needed more help than he could give me. He begged me to go into counseling, recommending a therapist he’d seen after the death of our parents. Finally recognizing my downward spiral, and with him there to hold my hoof, I broke down and went. He was right as usual; it was the one of the best and most important things I ever did. My therapist, who I’ll call Helping Hoof, understood at the start that healing would not come quick or easy for me, and there was one thing she said up front that has stuck with me to this day—“Sometimes we have to help others heal in order to heal ourselves.” I didn’t understand what she meant at first… but I would in due time. Even with her now helping me, it was not an easy time, and not really a period in my life I care to dwell on. It lasted eight months, the first of two major depressions in my life. Time may heal all wounds, but some hurts take longer than others, and my aversion to intimacy stayed with me. Acting on the goading of my barely-sympathetic older sister who told me I just needed to “get over it”, I tried to challenge my fears and force myself to have sex a couple times, once with a stallion and earlier with a mare when I was in heat. But I couldn’t. The foreplay alone caused severe flashbacks to my honeymoon and the agony of addiction that followed; I simply couldn’t get past the nightmares in my head. The first time, I bolted from the bedroom and broke down crying, huddled in a bathroom when the mare in question offered me a booster. To her credit, she was profusely apologetic afterwards when I managed to explain why, staying with me that night and doing nothing more than holding me. A month later I suffered a massive panic attack when a stallion I’d been seducing moved to mount me, to the point that I bucked him off with all my earth pony strength, putting two ugly hoof-shaped bruises in his lower belly and doing some internal damage. He was understandably less forgiving than the mare, and I ended up paying his medical bills. Despite such setbacks, the therapy helped a bit. Some of it was talking, some of it was an anti-anxiety spell or two that finally allowed me to sleep better, granting my body and spirit a little space to heal. But I still wasn’t making much in the way of real progress, just incremental… At least, not until one fateful night in late winter. Turnabout Nightmare What really started my turnabout was a dream. A nightmare, in fact. I was alone in a dark hotel room—it might have been the honeymoon suite at the Strotosphere—except it was dank and unlit, like a spooky forest, and I was locked in. I was thirsty and went to the bathroom to get a drink, but to my horror, booster potion started coming out of the tap instead of water, glowing sickly orange. In a panic, I tried to turn off the flow, but the spigot broke off and it began to overflow the sink and tub. Suddenly, potion was leaking, oozing from everything and increasingly leaving me with nowhere to go. Everywhere I looked were little rivulets glowing sickly orange, all seemingly flowing towards me, even forming into predatory creatures, scorpions and snakes, timberwolves and manticores, all rising up and reaching for me. I cried and pleaded for help, called for my brother, even my mother, but there was no answer. I climbed higher and higher onto the bed, the nightstand and finally the dresser but the evil orange apparitions followed me until I was cornered and had nowhere left to go. I shook in fear, knowing the instant they bit me the addiction would return and I would be lost in a haze of want, pain and misery; I knew their sting meant fleeting pleasure followed by endless, excruciating agony. I cowered. I sobbed. And finally… I screamed! It was then, when I’d lost all hope of escape or rescue, a shaft of light burst through my dreamscape like the moonbeam through a parting cloud, shining bright through the dark window into the recesses of my room… and my soul. A cool white light bathed me and wherever it touched the potion-creatures, they sizzled and evaporated, driven back until nothing of them remained. Rise, dear child, a mare’s voice called to me and I could feel a presence at my side, taking me by the hoof and picking me up from where I was cowering in the corner. I could not see my savior except in silhouette; she was more ephemeral shadow than actual entity, and yet… she was real. She was there. I could feel her presence, feel myself being taken under a wing and a soothing touch on my mind, maternal and gentle. I clung to her, still crying and pleading for her to stay, fearing the moment she left the monsters that stalked me would return. In reply, she held me and began to sing a lullaby to me, like a mother to her frightened foal. So much of that vision was lost, but I can still hear that hauntingly beautiful song as clearly as ever, and I’ve sung it to myself many times since: Fear not this night, you will not go astray. Though shadows fall, still the stars find their way. Awaken from a quiet sleep, hear the whispering of the wind. Awaken as the silence grows in a solitude of the night. Darkness spreads through all the land and your weary eyes open silently. Sunsets have forsaken all and must open their eyes and, Nightmares come when shadows grow… Ice glows and heartbeats slow. Fear not this night, you will not go astray. Though shadows fall, still the stars find their way. And you can always be strong. Lift your voice, with the first light of dawn. Dawn is just a heartbeat away Hope’s just a sunrise away. Distant sounds of melodies calling through the night to your heart. Auroras, mists and echoes dance in the solitude of our life. Pleading silent arias gently grieving in captive misery. Darkness sings a forlorn song and yet our hope can still rise up. Nightmares come when shadows grow. Lift your voice, lift your heart. Fear not this night, you will not go astray. Though shadows fall, still the stars find their way. And you can always be strong. Lift your voice, with the first light of dawn. Dawn is just a heartbeat away Hope’s just a sunrise away. Once the song was done, she held me close. Fear not this night, my little pony, she told me again. Fear not this night, and fear not to sleep. These demons will haunt you no more, her voice promised me, and I could somehow sense the truth of her words and that she had the power to make it so. I cried my gratitude into what felt like a strangely intangible mane full of glitter and sparkles; she stayed with me until I had drifted back off. Kind of odd that you could fall asleep within a dream, but that’s exactly what I did. * * * * * My savior was as good as her word. For the first time in what seemed ages I slept long and hard, straight through the night and well into the morning—so long, in fact, my brother got worried and came in to check on me; he later told me he wasn’t about to wake me up once he saw the peaceful, serene expression on my face. My dreams after that were benign, ranging from one about my parents to another about Cayenne, surprisingly, where I relived the night of our honeymoon. Later the scenes with Braeburn and my dentist friend replayed quite lucidly as well; I felt everything I did then—our foreplay, our fun, even the afterglow that followed. In hindsight, it was as if I was being reminded—shown through my own dream-replayed memories—what love and lovemaking could be; remind me that the pain I’d felt from the potion addiction was not normal or something I should be associating with sex. The dreams, which were very lucid and vivid when they happened, faded quickly. But aside from the song, there is one thing I remember from them quite clearly to this day. And that’s at the end of my initial encounter with Braeburn New Years Eve, looking up at Rising Star on her fourth-floor office balcony, expecting to see her but instead seeing… Princess Luna! She smiled and nodded at me and then retreated to the moon overhead, at which point the dream ended and I woke up, feeling more alive and refreshed than I had in a very long time. To this day, I still don’t know if she was real or I just imagined it all… if somehow, the Princess of the Night heard my cry for help and came to me in my sleep, helping me heal through my dreams. But whatever the answer, knowing that somepony was out there watching over me helped immensely; I was no longer afraid to sleep for fear of the nightmares returning. So, to our beloved Moon Princess: I know you’re studying on Earth right now, but if by chance you are reading this and that was indeed you who visited me that night, I’d just like to say, from the bottom of my heart… Thank you. This was not the end of my healing. In some ways, as you’ve already read, that would take ten years to complete. But it was the beginning. My road back was long, but I was finally fully on it. In time, I would learn to live and love again, and a very special pony would play a role in it. A pony I was shocked to run into towards the end of my stay in Las Pegasus, and who has now given me permission to tell our story and his name. But that will be saved for my next article. For now, I’m home and looking forward to getting back in the proverbial saddle, doing the job I love: Training new Gentlemen. > Part 11: The Wings to Fly > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – The Wings To Fly By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines July 13 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: We thought we had reached an accommodation with our critics regarding the publication of Five Stars’ articles, but it appears not as many of our subscribers are reporting that banks and online transaction websites are no longer willing to do business with our magazine, under pressure from various groups to sever ties with us as purveyors of pornography and obscenity. This for the simple act of running articles that are less lurid than plenty of things you can get nowadays at a corner newsstand or bookstore. Rest assured we will fight this effort will all legal means at our disposal—we’re flush with cash and have had plenty of offers from various groups to provide legal assistance—but we have other means to make our displeasure known as well. We agreed to allow ‘equal space’ for opposing viewpoints in exchange for an end to the legal actions against us. We are now rescinding that offer until our opponents abide by the terms of our original agreement. —Kalido Tema, Chief Editor, New York Life Magazine Manehattan Post Owner’s Note: I have to say, my counterparts at the New York Life are a lot more restrained than I am under the circumstances. My vendors have reported attempts to bully them as well, and I regret to say some have given in to veiled threats to stop selling my magazine or face boycotts, even prison time for everything from ‘advertising human comfort horses’ to ‘promoting interspecies indecency’… and even the utterly ridiculous charge of ‘undermining harmony’. As the aim of this action appears to be to force us to stop running the articles lest we be forced out of business by denying us middleponies to do business with, I offer this ultimatum in return: cease and desist your efforts to silence us… or I will run the articles in our regular issue and make our money the old-fashioned way—hiring teenaged ponies to hawk my magazines on street corners from here to Las Pegasus. And don’t think we’ll have any shortage of volunteers or customers. Think I’m bluffing? Try me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with my favorite Gentleman… —Hot Topic, Owner and Founder, Manehattan Post Magazine Dear readers— Three weeks since my return, I’ve had a chance to catch up with my mail and what’s been going on in my absence. The “accommodation” reached by the two magazines appears precarious at best, and I’ve also gotten a great deal of fan mail and an occasional angry earful from the small mountain of letters that followed the Q&A session. It appears trouble followed in my wake out west, courtesy of some overzealous media members. Braeburn had to get a restraining order against one persistent reporter, which was promptly ignored until his family and friends banded together to escort her and the entire media circus out of Dodge, where he’d been trying to lay low until media interest blew over. There was some trouble in Las Pegasus after I left as well. Our Las Pegasus office has been besieged by new clients, which is good, but anonymous threats have been made against our Gentlemen there and several of our large advertising billboards were vandalized by somepony who painted “DECIEVERS” on the front (word to the wisepony—if you’re trying to make a statement, you might start by spelling it right). A little pathetic, but another reminder that there are ponies out there who don’t appreciate gentlemen or those who work with them. I also didn’t learn this until after I got back, but Aces Up and Double Down are in trouble again. They apparently took exception to some of the more aggressive paparazzi harassing them and their herd, and made an example of a couple, stranding an earth pony photographer on a small cloud high in the air with a short-acting cloudwalking potion, threatening to let her fall if she didn’t promise to leave them alone, and then giving similar treatment to an equally intrusive human reporter by dangling him high above The Street by the ankles, eventually dropping him into the lake at the Buffalogio with the promise of more and worse if he didn’t back off. They ended up spending a week in jail for those incidents and paying a hefty fine. I can’t say I blame them this time around, and apparently neither did Rising Star, since she paid their bail and hired an attorney for them. The boys were never ones to take things lying down and neither was she, promptly banning the media from her casino resort without prior appointments. For my part, all I can do is once again ask my readers to please leave my past lovers be, not just for them but for their friends, mares and foals. This also means not buying any publication that’s running lies or lurid exposés about them. I accept that I’ll probably always have attention myself at this point, but there’s no need for everypony else to. Lastly, I’d like to address a common thread I’m seeing in my hate mail. I’d say around seventy percent of what I read was supportive, but of the remainder, the strong majority were written by human women, detailing in exact terms how various men had wronged them in an apparent effort to prove to me that men are NOT better than stallions and unworthy of my respect or defense. It made for some rather depressing reading at times, to which I’ll simply respond as follows: I know full well there are some bad men out there. I ran into a couple, which I’ll detail in due time. But to those women, what you don’t get is this: you have other options. If a man treats you badly, you can find another one, a better one. With so many men to choose from, there’s plenty of fish in the sea for you, to borrow another human idiom I’ve heard Gentlemen use. For a mare in a herd, however… that’s far more difficult. With so few stallions and so much competition for them, it’s often very difficult for a mare to find a new stallion, to the point that they’ll often remain in a bad herd situation… as I did more than once. I was very lucky to get as many chances at new herds as I did, and yet… the quality of my herds and herd stallions only seemed to go down with each new attempt. An experience I’m sure other mares have shared as well. Apologies if it sounds like I’m rambling, but in all honesty, I’m feeling a little guilty right now over what’s happened with Braeburn and the boys. I know I helped bring this upon them, and there’s not much I can do to help them except write my next article and hope that the next lover I write about will take pressure off the previous ones. Fortunately, that lover is somepony who’s quite used to celebrity and can handle the attention. An old friend I ran into very unexpectedly towards the end of my stay in Las Pegasus, playing in a celebrity poker tournament. He was as shocked—and delighted—to see me as I was him, and we caught up over dinner the last night before I left. I actually wasn’t going to tell our story (at least not without taking great pains to hide his identity), but he’s all but insisting I do so, reminding me how important it was for both of us. He’s also given me his permission to use his real name—not much point in hiding it given all the pictures snapped of us and later appearing in the tabloids when we hugged and kissed! The Road Back The night of my dreamtime rescue marked a turning point for me… for which I thank you again, dear Princess of the Night. As my sleep improved, so did my mood and progress. The flashbacks and panic attacks became fewer and further between—not unlike the ‘phases’ that potion brought on when I was being weaned off it, I later thought—and my therapy sessions got much more productive; I didn’t need the anti-anxiety treatments as often. Helping Hoof and I talked about the induced fears of intimacy and feelings of betrayal I had, slowly working through them over the next few months. As time went on, things continued to get better and I finally felt well enough to start working again, though I still shied away from dating or anything physical. I joined the staff of a new inn that had just opened up on the Baltimare waterfront, a place that seemed low-stress and needed an experienced concierge to help get it off the ground. With my previous work record and Rising Star’s reference in hoof, I got the job easily, though I was very relieved when they didn’t ask me about the circumstances of my leaving Las Pegasus, or Manehattan before that. Finally, somewhere around early summer, more than nine months after my abortive Las Pegasus honeymoon and following six months of counseling, my therapist pronounced me ‘fit to fornicate’ again—an interesting turn of phrase, I’ll admit—but advised me to take it very slow and easy; find somepony who would be okay with a slow pace and to not go looking for a new herd right away. “Not until you decide that’s what you really want,” she warned me. “Your first job is to ease back into intimacy, and find a partner who’ll go that speed.” As luck would have it, I already knew where I might find one. There was a young colt I knew, a sky-blue pegasus with a cloud-colored mane and green eyes who worked as a courier and came by the inn once or twice a week to deliver messages and packages to guests. He was significantly younger than me, nineteen and still trying to figure out what to do with himself; I’d spoken to him a couple times when he was delivering packages to us and found him polite and more than a little bashful—which, needless to say, are not traits you normally associate with a pegasus! Most are brash and assertive, the product of a competition-based culture and upbringing steeped in warrior tradition. Deciding I was more or less ready and it was time to take my first step into the dating world again, I finally got up the nerve to ask him out. To my surprise he visibly froze at the question, becoming quite tense. I was so startled by his reaction I froze as well, uncertain what I’d said or done wrong. He hemmed and hawed like he wasn’t sure how to reply; I had to assure him I wouldn’t take offense if he said no. He didn’t say yea or neigh right away, asking for some time to think about it. Though confused, I told him to take all the time he wanted, and that the offer remained open if he ever decided to accept. Well, it took some waiting, and no little patience—something I don’t normally have when I’m interested in a male—but a few weeks later he finally came back and said yes. I think my aversion to intimacy actually worked in my favor this time, as I didn’t push or press him. He wasn’t ready, after all, and neither was I for many weeks more. Instead… as my therapist advised, we eased in to things very slowly, starting by seeing each other for very casual lunch and dinner dates around once a week, occasionally watching a film or taking a walk down by the waterfront. It wasn’t instant—nothing we did was—but he gradually opened up to me. He said he wanted to race and see the world, following ‘in the wingbeats’ of his grandfather, a famous pegasus racer, and that his greatest dream was to win the Equestrian 500, a grueling five hundred mile marathon around Equestria. He even showed me a pair of brown pleather flight goggles given to him by his grandfather, and at my suggestion he started wearing them on his courier runs for inspiration, practicing high-speed passes through streets and alleyways while making deliveries. The more I saw him, the more I liked him. He was earnest and hardworking, full of hopes and dreams… He was also painfully shy and awkward; having this tendency to stammer and berate himself quite loudly whenever he thought he’d done something wrong. Nothing wrong with a little self-deprecation, but he took it to new heights, and his reactions to me—to an interested mare—weren’t like a normal colt at all. At first, I wondered if his reluctance might be due to the fact he was a colt-cuddler, but as time went by and I saw him more often, I realized that definitely wasn’t the case—not with all those furtive looks he was giving me, or the fact that he almost seemed to be hiding from me at times… which I finally figured out was because he was having some trouble restraining his wings around me, which kept trying to stiffen. Suffice it to say, he was interested in me, but didn’t know how to express it for the longest time. Months, even. Regardless, our interest was mutual, which I found surprising whenever I thought about it. He wasn’t my age or even really my type, which to that point had tended to go towards stronger and more assertive males, yet he sparked something in me. I don’t know if it was maternal instinct or simply a mare’s innate desire to take care of a stallion, but more and more, I wanted to help him break out of his shell… And more and more, I realized there was only one way I could do it. To Heal Another… Things finally came to a head one warm evening in late August. We’d just met for dinner—my treat—and were taking our customary walk by waterfront with few other ponies around, just chatting. He’d finally confided in me a week before the reason he constantly berated himself—his younger sister was in a deep coma in Canterlot Hospital, caused by a long fall she’d sustained after trying to emulate a feat of her big brother, climbing to high altitude and then going into a speed dive. It had been a near-fatal mistake as she’d climbed higher than her young lungs could manage, passing out and nearly plummeting to her death. She’d woken up at a lower altitude, but her immature wings were unable to arrest her descent in time and she suffered severe injuries on impact, putting her in a deep coma she might never come out of. He was out working at the time but held himself responsible since she’d been injured trying to emulate him, further compounded by the fact they were orphans and he’d promised their passed parents at their graveside that he’d look after his younger sister. So he was basically berating himself to both mask his sorrow and punish himself over the belief that he’d failed in his duty as a big brother. It was far too much guilt and grief for any one pony to take, especially one so young, and put my own issues in perspective. In fact, mine outright paled in comparison. In return, I told him I understood well the pain of losing parents, and that I didn’t think they—or his sister—would hold him responsible for what happened. “You weren’t there because you were out working, trying to earn the money to support you both. So how could you have stopped it?” I told him as he broke down completely, crying for his lost parents and sister; looking back, I honestly think that was the first time he truly allowed himself to grieve. “It’s all right. Ssshhh…” I told him as he sobbed on my shoulder, later walking him home. He lived in a small apartment which still had his sister’s room… nothing had been moved from it; it looked like he had left it the way it was in hope of her eventual return. Not wanting to leave him alone in that state, I ended up staying the night with him, holding him in bed and doing what I could to ease his pain; my heart went out to him even as some part of me acknowledged that that was the first time since my honeymoon that I’d shared a bed with a stallion. He did finally sleep, but appeared to be in the throes of nightmares, so I held him close and sang the same song that was sung to me, giving him a kiss on the cheek when I finished. It was a good feeling as I felt his restlessness cease. Not just for helping him, but for the reminder that there was no requirement to have sex when I slept with somepony… That there were other, equally powerful forms of intimacy than purely physical. … is to Heal Oneself In hindsight, that night marked a breakthrough for us as a couple. His greatest secret revealed and his grief expressed, he finally opened up to me fully, asking to see me more and more often. In fact, that August night was the third time we’d seen each other that week. Dusk found us sitting together alone at the end of a long pier, quietly watching the moonrise when I took a chance and rested my head on his shoulder, carefully gauging my own reaction as well as his. He was a little startled and uncertain, while myself… I looked for but found no fear or tension within me. I inhaled softly, smelled his masculine scent and felt his powerful body and for the first time… felt my urges truly begin to stir in his presence. As usual, my new coltfriend (by then I was starting to think of him that way) wasn’t sure what to do at first, but finally took a deep breath and returned the gesture, resting his head on top of mine. We stayed that way for several minutes before I made another move, grasping his hoof in my own. He allowed me to, but I could feel him shaking a bit as we did so. “Hey… you okay?” I asked him. “Y-yeah…” he finally managed but I realized he was lying; I could feel him trembling against me like he was trying mightily to hold something back. I felt something on his flank pushing against me and realized what it was—his wings were trying to pop up again; he was having a harder and harder time restraining them around them. I could taste his arousal in the air around us, feel him shift uncomfortably against me as he tried to hold in his wings… and a certain other anatomical feature a little further lower and back. With that, I overrode my remaining misgivings and took the plunge, sensing the time was finally right… for both of us. “Hey…” “Y-yes?” “Do you… want me?” I asked the fateful question. His eyes went wide and wings answered for him, going instantly erect in the moonlight. He pulled back from me, mortified. “S-sorry… STOP APOLOGIZING YOU IDIOT!” He shouted at himself like he usually did. “THIS IS NO WAY TO TREAT A—!” I called his name and put a hoof against his mouth, shushing him. “You’re not doing anything wrong. I’m a mare, you’re a stallion, and what you’re experiencing is exactly what you should feel for a mare you like,” I told him gently. “So if you want me... you can have me,” I felt my own legs going weak at the suggestion, as fear clawed at me but to my surprise and relief… found no real purchase on my psyche or soul. I simply stood there before him, in offering, feeling an odd calm descend over me. “I-I…” he stammered but his wings answered for him, popping up into a full-on wingboner as his eyes roved all over me. He turned away, presenting a slightly comical scene as he simultaneously tried to hide his face, aroused wings, and rigid shaft all at the same time. Any other time in my life, a stallion acting this way towards me might have been off-putting, but here, his antics were utterly endearing—this poor, painfully shy colt who simply didn’t know what to do or how to properly express his interest. He needed help. My help, I realized, and I resolved right then and there I would give it to him. Sometimes we need to help others in order to help ourselves, I remembered my therapist saying, and I think it was only then I truly understood what she meant—that by helping him, I’d be helping myself as well. “Hey… it’s okay…” I walked up to him and gently turned his head to face mine, let him see my eyes—see the warmth and compassion in them; that I would not force or reject him. “B-but…” despite my reassuring tone he still looked ready to bolt, but he couldn’t fly off with his wings in that state, or easily gallop off with a rock-hard stallionhood either. “Ssshhh…” I cooed to him softly. “It’s all right. It’s your first time, and you’re afraid. It’s normal,” I assured him, my own fears ebbing as I spoke just from the simple fact that he needed me to be strong and take the lead here (and Cayenne, if you’re reading this, I’d like you to know that much of what I did here, I learned from you—I treated him with the same deference and gentleness you treated me my first time!) “We won’t do anything you’re not ready to,” I assured him, sensing I was saying it as much to myself as to him. “Th-thanks…” he managed, still looking shaky, his eyes darting all over; I could tell how badly he wanted to do something with me, even if he still couldn’t figure out what it was or how to go about it. “Wh-what do I do?” he finally asked, his voice equal parts shaky and husky. What indeed? First Contact I began by simply inviting him explore my body to his heart’s content, there in the moonlight. It was an offer he accepted with both eagerness and trepidation as I felt him nose and inspect me from every angle, and finally—with no little prodding and my explicit and repeated permission—he began to touch me with hoof, wing and muzzle, starting at my neck. I could feel him shaking as he drew his stiffened wingtip along it, drinking in its feminine curve as he touched a mare for the very first time. He started when I asked him if he liked it, drawing back immediately; I had to assure him repeatedly it was okay. And it was okay, I realized to some surprise. I wasn’t recoiling from his touch; I wasn’t having flashbacks or anxiety attacks like I had before. It was only later I realized why—it was because I had to be strong and sure for him; if I panicked here he’d be gravely wounded and the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt this tender young colt. In other words, I didn’t care about myself so much as making sure he got the best first time possible—much like Cayenne had once done for me. I just knew that if he enjoyed it, I would too. He continued his explorations, moving onto my flank. His touch was tentative but tender, weak but worshipful… I was something he’d never experienced before, and he almost seemed afraid that I wasn’t real—that this wasn’t really happening. He seemed a little frustrated by the fact I didn’t have wings and he simply didn’t know where my erogenous zones were as an earth pony—he knew where they were on a pegasus since he was one, but was completely bewildered by my wingless body. Well, for those humans who are curious and as I told him… earth pony mares are generally sensitive on our neck and belly, our nethers (of course), our hooves, and some of us really go for being grasped by the hips—which is something only humans seem to be able to do well. The poor colt, however just didn’t know what to do; all he knew were what he’d seen in magazines or movies—which, I say once again, are a bad place to get lovemaking tips from. I had to gently guide him along, never pushing, letting him explore at his own pace. Slowly, he started getting more into it; his increasingly aroused wings provided ample evidence of it as his feathers stood out ever more stiffly. Taking a chance, I asked him if he would like me to touch them. “O-only if you’d… l-like to…” he managed in a tone that managed to be equal parts fearful and husky, and said he very much wanted me to. I obliged him, putting the skills I’d originally learned with Cayenne to good use. I nibbled at the sensitive leading edge and then moved on to preening his feathers gently with my teeth—not something I usually enjoyed doing (flecks of feathers in the teeth aren’t much fun), but for him, and out of a desire to give him the best first time I could, I overrode my distaste. He went weak-kneed as I continued my efforts, giving little gasps and whinnies as I went. “Enjoying yourself?” I asked as I moved closer to his flank. His only answer was a whimpering moan and the steady dripping of his shaft beneath his belly—my little colt was coming out to play! Finally, I reached the junction of his wings and shoulders and attacked his flight muscles directly. He bucked hard at the contact, and then something happened that I’ve never seen before or since; something that outright scared me when it happened—he cried out and CAME! Just from THAT! He climaxed from my wing stimulation alone, and it was quite a sight to behold as his wings splayed hard and then clamped down hard on his sides—on my head. His shaft, which I’d never even touched, spurted hard all over his belly and the wooden deck as he collapsed on his side, in a visible daze. Then he started to cry. “S-sorry…” He said over and over for not being able to last, but I hardly held that against him—he’d been so keyed up for so long over me that… well, the human term is “blue balls”, and given his coat color, it doubly applied to him. The Mane Event I laid down beside him and held him gently for the next five minutes, cradling his head under mine, telling him it was fine as he cried himself out. He was crying for two reasons, as it turned out. The first was simply out of sheer gratitude over what I’d done for him—he’d finally known sexual release after years of pent up urges and frustration, which now poured out of him uncontrollably—and the second was an absolutely adorable but very welcome sentiment that he’d come so quickly he hadn’t been able to satisfy me! He was terrified that having come prematurely meant he was a bad lover and I would leave him for it, leave him with just the barest taste of a lady’s love on his tongue, never to know it again. No amount of reassurance would convince him differently, and five minutes later, I decided it was time to take this colt by the reins. I silenced his fears with a kiss—our first—and pulled back long enough to see his dazed expression. I smiled reassuringly before I reached into kiss him again. He let me take the lead and I did so, gradually deepening our kissing as I sensed his comfort level would allow it, until finally our tongues met and we began to explore each other’s muzzle in earnest. When we finally broke it and pulled back, he was looking at me in wonder and sheer worship as he awaited what I would do next… It was a question I was considering myself. I thought about performing oral on him, but quickly decided against it—the last thing he needed was kinkiness right now. I likewise decided against stroking him manually with my hoof, since there was a chance that could bring him to climax again, which he seemed to think made him somehow less of a stallion. We could work on that later, but for now, I decided, it was time to give him what he wanted and let him become the stallion he so badly wanted to be. He was ready and I was too, no misgivings remained as I stood up and faced away from him, giving the universal signal of an interested mare—flagging my tail at him, displaying myself to him fully. He stood there spellbound for a moment, seemingly trying desperately to hold himself back. He's almost there, I sensed, and I knew exactly what button to push. “You want me? Take me,” I invited him in my huskiest voice, winking my marehood at him for emphasis. He stood rigid for a moment more, his wings and organ painfully erect, his fears fighting a losing war with his desires… until finally, with a second wink of my marehood and sudden trickle of liquid down my leg, he all but tackled me. There’s a good colt! I couldn’t help but think, bracing myself as he mounted me. He fumbled with the right position for a moment, trying to find my entrance. I found myself wishing I was a unicorn so I could guide him into me properly… a thought that lasted barely a second before he his frantic thrusts found their mark and drove the head of shaft into me. “Ah!” we both cried out as he stopped briefly as if to regather his wits and make sure I was okay with it; I answered by pushing back against him, forcing another inch of him inside me and eliciting a ragged breath. “Th-that’s…” he couldn’t find the words for how good it felt, so he simply expressed his pleasure and desire for more as any good stallion would—by thrusting, pushing himself ever deeper into me. And myself? I don’t know how to describe how I felt, except maybe released… and even that doesn’t even begin to do it justice. I sensed I was finally freeing myself from the horrors of my past, and I savored it. Savored the feeling of finally letting go, of healing myself… Of finally feeling whole and truly living again. It was powerful. It was wonderful. It was an ordeal finally ending, and had the fireworks to suit the occasion. Still, I had little time or inclination to consider the implications as his thrusts got stronger and quicker and it soon became clear he wasn’t going to last much longer. “F-Five Stars…!” He called out in a ragged voice. “I c-can’t… I’m g-gonna…” I sensed his body tense and heard his sharp intake of breath. “Do it!” I told him though my own squeezed-shut eyes and gritted teeth, savoring every inch of his organ inside me. “It’s all right. Just let go! Take me! Give it all to me!” I implored him, the knowledge that I was to be his first mare, that I was teaching him to be a stallion pushing me the rest of the way over the edge. Already there himself, he needed no further encouragement than that, slamming his hips forward for the last time and emptying his long-suffering apples into me as I rode him to my first climax in nearly a year, screaming his name into the deepening night and milking his no-longer-virgin shaft for every drop it held. * * * * * That was just the opening round in what turned out to be a wonderful night. When we’d finally recovered enough, we went to his place and picked up right where we left off. He had the potency of youth and was ready to go again frequently while I seemed to be trying to make up for a yearlong drought all at once, each round leaving me wanting even more. And he obliged me quite happily. Each time he gained in confidence a little more, each time I let him take just a little more of the lead until finally, he was riding me with gusto, servicing me with everything he could muster. It wasn’t just simple rutting, either—he was a quick study and figured out even without my prompting the right way to nip, to nuzzle, and to kiss, learned where all my sensitive spots were just by watching my reactions… and he hit them all over and over again, bringing me to a climax repeatedly. We slept in deep the next morning, curled up in a tangle of legs and bodies, the sheets tangled and sweaty but both of us beyond caring. When I finally woke up sometime after noon snuggled together with my new coltfriend, all I could think was… I’m BACK, baby! That was just the start for us. We maintained our relationship off and on for the next couple years, using each other as a refuge when things were going badly (as they would all too frequently), leaning on each other when we needed to. And yet… there was no thought on either of our parts of deepening it, trying to form a herd. I was six years older than him, and I could tell he was not the type to settle down, certainly not so soon in his life. He was a restless spirit who needed to fly and find himself, and finally he had the wings to do so. And find himself he did. With me there to support and cheer him, he began to race on weekends, slowly making his name through local events, later graduating to the Manehattan regional racing circuit and finally making the national and international racing leagues. It took him a few years and some false starts, but he eventually got there… and is still there now, considered an elite racer on his way to being one of the all-time greats. I like to think I played a role in that. In my mind, what I did for that colt is something Gentlemen have done for many a mare—helped them to break out of their shell, show them what they can have and what they can be. There are even a couple Gentlemen I know who seem to specialize in this sort of thing, who gravitate to wounded mares and attempt to heal them, and they’re all the more special to me for it. I said before that I might consider settling down with a man? Well, two Gentlemen in particular would be prime candidates for that reason. For as down as I am on stallions sometimes, there’s no denying that they too need love and careful nurturing before they can fully realize their potential and promise. Despite our lopsided mare-to-stallion ratio, there’s too many who never do. But this one did. Remember also how I said that I’ve only ever known two stallions who put a mare’s pleasure before their own? Well… Cayenne was the first; this young colt was the second. From what I heard in Las Pegasus, I daresay Aces Up and Double Down now fit the bill as well, but… that was more in reaction to what happened to me. The job of a Gentleman is not just to treat and fete; it’s to hold and help, not just to service and sate, but to caress and comfort, to lend a sympathetic shoulder and ear. In telling this story, I’ve been reminded of that simple fact… and that no matter how badly wounded you are, there is hope; you can heal. * * * * * By now, it seems I can’t have an article without beginning or ending with a letter, and this time is no exception. I imagine most Equestrian readers can guess the name of my mystery lover now, and for my human ones, you just have to open to the sports page of an Equestrian newspaper to read his exploits. So without further ado… Hey, Five Stars. It was great to see you again in Las Pegasus, and I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend more time together. Our lives have taken us apart but I still look back on you very fondly, recalling our many encounters over the years. As I remember our time together, I guess what strikes me is the unlikeliness of it all. We had little in common, just two birds that passed in the sky, and yet… there we were. You had your own traumas while I was, as humans say, a basket case back then, a guilt-wracked wreck of a pony having no confidence and some serious self-esteem issues. But you were exactly what I needed to overcome them—you were kind, you were patient, you genuinely wanted to help me… and not just help yourself to a fragile colt that would have been all too easy to take advantage of… and all too easily hurt. On a related note, I’ve read your articles and notice you’re often quite down on stallions, mostly for taking mares for granted and not reciprocating attention. Well, take it from me—there are mares like that too and I’ve encountered a few too many of them along the way. For some mares, it seems, once they realize you’re willing to put out to pleasure them, they don’t try as hard back. They get it in their head they’re entitled to be rutted on their own terms, and forget about their partner. Because of that, I sympathize with you completely when you say that the herd doesn’t work with you; it didn’t for me either—my two attempts at being a herd stallion ended badly, as I’m sure you read in the tabloids. One in particular I’m still paying for to this day. Like you, I needed something more than pony society or herds could offer me, and like you, I finally found exactly what I needed not with my own kind but with a different race entirely, discovering a soulmate in the arms and wings of a sky griffon eagless named Lenora Arielle (no point in hiding her name since our relationship by now is all over the tabloids anyway!) Our meeting was pure chance, just crossing paths on our respective courier routes, but now we’re as passionate lovers in bed as we are fierce competitors in the air—to be honest our pre-rutting sparring ‘rounds’ usually consist of races and aerial duels! I guess the one thing I would say to you and all your readers is be careful not to stereotype—what holds for a group may not hold for an individual. I’ve always tried to treat my ladies well, like you taught me, but one of the more bitter lessons I had to learn was that just because you do so doesn’t mean they’ll do so back. I’ve had a few human lovers by now too, and find that a rather mixed bag—some are absolutely wonderful, some decidedly not. For us, we were never meant to be more than occasional lovers, and I’m fine with that as I’m sure you are. It was exactly what we both needed back then; trying to turn it into anything more would have spoiled what we had. Reading about what happened to you now, I do wish I could have been there for you a little earlier but Celestia knows I wasn’t ready for anything until you came along. When all is said and done, it’s no exaggeration to say that you gave me my wings, Five Stars. You turned a fearful colt into a stallion; gave him the ability to realize his potential and the drive to pursue his dreams. And if this—through your Gentlemen now—is what you continue to do for other ponies, then all I can say is… carry on! It was wonderful to see you again, and I’ll make a point to swing by Manehattan next race season to visit. Might even like to meet some of your Gentlemen. And please let your readers know that thanks to human medicine, my sister has finally come out of her coma! She’s got a long road back, but rest assured her big brother will be there for her every step of the way… just as you were there for me. With warm thoughts and great gratitude, —Cruise Control PS: It was good to finally meet you after I’ve heard so much about you, Five Stars. Not much I would say that hasn’t been said already, except… thanks for breaking him in for me! —Lenora Arielle You’re very welcome, Lenora. And thanks, Cruise. You don’t know how much it warms my heart to hear you say all that. You taught me a few things as well, you know—that I could still live and love, that I enjoyed the role of teacher… and that I was at my best when helping other ponies. All things that would eventually carry over into my job with Gentlemen. Looking back, one additional lesson was stark from my time with you—that I didn’t need a herd to be happy. But it would take a couple more failures before that finally began to sink in. > Part 12: Raise Your Voice, Raise Your Hope > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – Raise Your Voice, Raise Your Hope By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines July 27 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: To our loyal readers, both old and new—due to escalating protests that have included threats to our lives and livelihoods, we have been forced to suspend operation of our presses and print version. Our online version continues despite the efforts of hired hackers and attempts to bully our ISPs into pulling our pages; we can still write articles and editorials from our homes while under police guard. Accordingly, we have set up mirror sites overseas, out of reach of our courts and creditors. Our court battles continue, but it is ultimately the battle for public opinion that will decide our fate. There are hopeful signs that is turning more in our favor as people become aware of and are turned off by the increasingly ugly tactics our opponents are resorting to in their effort to silence us. Such tactics are a sign of desperation, but until the greater public turns on them hard, we fear they will continue. So we appeal to all fair-minded people—whether or not you agree with our position and the articles, please support our right to publish them; please support the ideals of freedom of speech and press. It is wrong to bully and boycott businesses just because you disagree with their views or politics, and violating the privacy and personal lives of their workers as a means to that end is not right no matter how you justify it. On a more personal note, our magazine has not gone dark for World Wars, natural disasters, or even 9/11. I speak for myself and the bulk of my staff when I say I’ll be damned if I let a bunch of bigots on both sides of the portal kill this publication now. —Kalido Tenna, Chief Editor, New York Life Magazine Manehattan Post Owner’s Note: The last two weeks have severely tried me and my staff as well, about half of which have quit or are considering doing so in the face of severe public pressure, including public naming and shaming by some curiously well-organized opposition. I regret I have had to place my presses and facilities under guard and the current issue is being published out of the basement of Gentlemen for Mares, as my offices seem no longer safe. I share sentiments with my friends through the portal. Though my magazine has not been existence anywhere near as long as its New York counterpart, I will allow it to be neither silenced nor killed by any ponies no matter how powerful they may be. The articles continue, and my magazine will be published even if I have to write every page and sell each copy on street corners myself. —Hot Topic, Owner and Founder, Manehattan Post Magazine Dear readers— I regret to say, it has not been a pleasant last couple weeks for anyone, human or pony, at Gentlemen for Mares. The experiences of the two magazines are just the start. As many of you heard in news reports, two Gentlemen were lured on dates only to be attacked and beaten in Las Pegasus; others had their identities revealed and were forced into hiding. Meanwhile, the National Equestrian Racing Federation has suspended Cruise Control from competition pending ‘full investigation’ by the league for ‘conduct unbecoming a racer’ and ‘being a poor role model for our nation’s foals’. I understand the league was threatened with loss of sponsorship and various unspecified sanctions by certain ponies in power if they did not crack down on Cruise by any means possible. Nevertheless, it is an act of cowardice, in my not-so-humble opinion, to give into herd hucksters and so called ‘moral authorities’ who would be far better served by looking in the mirror and getting their own houses and herds in order rather than attack the messenger, trying to hide the mirror that Gentlemen for Mares holds up to both human and pony society. Cruise has written me to say the charges are a ‘load of horse manure’ and that he fully expects to be racing next year, even going so far as to publically offer his endorsement and sponsorship of G4M services. His offer is welcome, but may not be enough. With the magazines and their opponents at an impasse, and workers at both publications now under both financial and even physical duress as their bank accounts are blocked and homes picketed, I am told that there also is a chance that the articles will have to be suspended or moved to other, more adult-oriented magazines like Playmare or Axiom if they are to continue. In truth, we had the option to publish in such magazines initially, but we declined because we wanted to reach a wider audience beyond adolescent mares and males. For now, the ownership and staff at the two magazines are still holding firm, but for how long under such intense public pressure? Well. It would seem my articles have really touched a nerve, and it saddens me to see it our efforts held hostage by a very vocal and hateful minority on both sides of the portal. I’m especially shocked to see some ponies actually resorting to threats and violence in the name of ‘preserving harmony’. It’s utterly hypocritical that anypony could justify their actions in such a way. Don’t ever tell me that humans are the hateful ones after this. This is, I’m sorry to say, a pattern of behavior I’ve noticed with ponies over the years. Threats and ostracization against thestrels happened after Nightmare Moon’s return, against changelings after the Canterlot invasion, and now against Gentlemen for no other reason that some ponies can’t stand the thought that another race might provide an alternative to many needy mares than their own herds. As for G4M, we’ve had no choice but to suspend our Las Pegasus operations and general recruiting efforts pending full security review and safety seminars. I regret to say that several Gentlemen have quit or are considering doing so in the face of such threats, and Platinum Corona is trying to squelch the controversy by meeting with our critics in the presence of Princess Celestia herself in Canterlot. In the meantime, the articles go on. I will not be intimidated or give in to threats from a few well-placed ponies exerting undue influence, and I will continue to write these articles as long as Platinum Corona and the two magazines wish me to. The story of our work and how we came to be must be told. Perhaps it is arrogant on my part to equate my story with that of G4M, but having been a part of it almost since the beginning, they are very closely intertwined. My life has had a lot of highs and lows, sometimes following hard on the heels of each other, and this appears to be another example; coming back on Cloud Nine after my vacation in Las Pegasus only to be plunged into… this. Cruising The next chapter in my life takes place in Baltimare following my first encounter with Cruise Control. For those who are curious, After a dozen chapters, I’m now a little over three years into my story. The discovery of humans still lay two years in the future at this point, and ideas of bipedal alien races and interdimensional portals remained in the realm of magic fiction and some particularly bad films. Cruise and I got together frequently over the next few months, seeing (and screwing) each other pretty much whenever we could outside of our work schedules… and sometimes even during, sneaking out on breaks or going into the back room when he came by with deliveries on his courier route. A few more formal dates were thrown into the mix, but we quickly found ourselves more at ease when we didn’t try to act like a courting mare and stallion were supposed to. No, we were at our happiest when we didn’t try to take on stereotypical mare/stallion roles, when we just relaxed and enjoyed each other’s company. And enjoy it we did. Frequently and repeatedly. For all my encounters and partners to that point, I’d never had a bona fide coltfriend, and it was a new experience for me—deeper and more meaningful than most of the one-night-stands I’d occasionally enjoyed in Las Pegasus, but without all the messy commitment, responsibilities and sharing that entering a herd entailed. A happy compromise that was exactly what I needed at that point as I continued my climb back… and Cruise continued his climb out of colthood. It was remarkable to see how he changed during that time, how he grew in confidence and strength and yet… it was how he didn’t change that I appreciated the most. He was still, at his core, a very decent and driven young colt who never lost sight of what was important to him—his sister, his racing dreams… and me. As the months passed and autumn turned towards winter again, I finally invited him to meet my family and give him something he hadn’t known in a long time—a real Hearth’s Warming. Suffice it to say, it could have gone better. Though my younger sisters seemed somewhat enamored of Cruise, my brother seemed unsure what to think of him while my older sister made some snark about his much younger age, accusing me under her breath of ‘robbing the cradle’ and implying I was taking advantage of him. Sensing the tension he was causing among my siblings, Cruise got uncomfortable enough that he was about ready to leave, and it led to a long-overdue confrontation between me and my older sister that turned into a knock-down, drag-out fight in the living room of my brother’s flat an hour before Hearth’s Warming dinner. Cruise and my brother finally pulled us apart, but not before we’d inflicted some serious damage both on each other and the living room around us; I ended up hospitalized with broken ribs and half my mane seared off while my sister cracked her horn and lost several teeth (courtesy of my two well-placed kicks), ending up with her horn splinted and jaw wired shut for a week, unable to cast spells and eating nothing but puree for the duration. A Hearth’s Warming to remember for all the wrong reasons. Cruise seemed to think he was responsible until I explained that things between me and my older sister had been simmering for some time—many years, in fact—and he’d just been the spark that finally lit the fuse between us. Since I’ve mentioned her before, I’ll explain a little more here—my older sister, alone among me and my siblings, is a unicorn. That’s nothing against unicorns of course, but the point is that she always felt both different and apart from my earth pony family. And perhaps even a little neglected in comparison to me and other siblings. She ended up with a large chip on her shoulder, and—I’m still not sure where it came from—a belief that she was superior to the rest of us for being a unicorn. Or maybe that was just how she salved her wounded pride when I came along and she was no longer the only filly in our family. Regardless, she pretty much always resented me and tended to look down her nose at other pony races and species for not being unicorns… Which is doubly ironic given that she’s now working for the Tellus/Terra cultural exchange committee in Canterlot, and has taken a human lover. I’m happy to say she finally grew up and realized how vain and petty she was being. We’re on much better terms nowadays, and she’s actually more at ease with my training Gentlemen than my older brother is. Looking back, getting beaten in a fight by an earth pony might have had something to do with her change in attitude—she finally figured out that having a horn on her head didn’t make her inherently superior, and the lack of one didn’t mean you were weak. Winter turned to spring, and Cruise, with my encouragement, entered his name in the local pegasi race circuit and began practicing in earnest for the upcoming racing season. He was so nervous at his first race he disqualified himself when he jumped the starting signal twice. Badly discouraged, he wanted to withdraw from the racing league and give up his dreams right then and there… until I sat him down and told him he couldn’t quit after only one failed attempt. “What makes you better isn’t winning, Cruise,” I remember holding his hoof afterwards and saying. “It’s failing and getting back up to try again,” I told him, and realized I was saying it as much for myself as for him. So he did. It took him two more attempts to even start a race (the second time he got sick to his stomach and had to withdraw), three more attempts to finish one (he disqualified the first two times by going out of bounds or hitting a race obstacle), and he didn’t crack the top ten in any race he ran for months. But with me there to hold his hoof, he was learning and slowly getting better, starting to understand exactly what it took to race and win—the practice, the effort, the conditioning, and sheer dedication that went into it. Towards the end of the spring, he had his first showing in the winner circle, taking second in a five-thousand meter dash. We celebrated in fine fashion that night, as he was feeling particularly randy and confident. I stroked his ego along with his stallionhood, and rewarded him with oral—something I’d been saving for a special occasion, and this certainly seemed to be it! Despite such nights… I found myself growing restless as he began to concentrate more on his racing and started to drift away from me, spending more of evenings and days off in training or flying in informal circuit events. I understood and encouraged him, but still… I think it was only then I truly accepted that he wasn’t meant to be anything more than an occasional coltfriend for me. My therapist, who I was still seeing around once a month at that point, had told me not to look for a new herd again until I was sure it was what I wanted to do. At that point I still wasn’t, but I decided after twenty months I’d waited long enough—I wasn’t getting any younger, and regardless of how much I was enjoying things with Cruise, it was increasingly clear to me we weren’t meant to be more than lovers, and he wasn’t the long-term answer I needed. So what was? Inns and Outs I’d been working at the Longshore Inn on the Baltimare waterfront for nearly a year at that point. During that time I’d gotten to know most of the ponies there quite readily and was more or less on good terms with them. There were several other ponies my age working there that I’d formed a little clique with, three mares and a stallion from the Inn’s waterfront restaurant and bar. The mares and I had gone out socially a few times, and more than once lapsed into cider-fueled discussions of colts and herds. It turned out I wasn’t the only mare in the group who’d lost a herd before. Juniper, as I’ll call her, was an earth pony mare who’d spent two years in a herd before abandoning it. When I asked her why, she only said she ‘bucked things up’ for the other mares and thought it best to leave... In hindsight, a warning. Two of the others were already in an unofficial relationship, much like I was with Cruise. Red Pepper and Sea Salt were a unicorn couple who seemed to go together like, well, salt and pepper (hence the aliases I’m using for them); I tended to cover for them when they wanted to sneak out for a quick rut in exchange for the same treatment when I wanted to have a quickie with Cruise. We seemed to have a similar outlook and got along well enough, and somewhere along the line… can’t say I even really remember who said it or when at this point, but the thought was voiced that we might all actually make a decent herd. It was only said in passing, and we kind of laughed it off. I remember batting my eyes at Red Pepper and saying something to the effect that “I’ve already had a hot pepper for a herd stallion [meaning Cayenne], how do YOU compare?” “Oh, I think you’ll find me plenty spicy, Five Stars,” he retaliated with a rather evil grin, causing me to blush a bit and Sea Salt to giggle. We weren’t being serious, at least not then. But it stuck with me, and the more we thought about and discussed it, the more we found ourselves considering it. It would mean I’d have to give things up with Cruise, but… I wasn’t about to invite him into a herd. Some of our more kinky sessions aside, the last thing he needed was to be tied down by me; settling down would take away his racing career before it had even begun. Cruise noticed me starting to emotionally distance myself from him and finally asked me what was wrong. I didn’t want to hurt him of course, but I’d learned by then that withholding the truth just made things worse so I told him exactly what was happening—that my coworkers and I were discussing forming a herd. He immediately offered to join it with me, but I told him very firmly no—that he was far too young to settle down, and he had a racing career to pursue. “Someday, you’ll make a fine herd stallion and make a whole stable of mares happy. But that shouldn’t be now,” I told him as I saw the heartbroken expression on his face. “I’ll be there to cheer you on, but for now I have to let you go,” was all I managed before I broke down completely, and he along with me. Needless to say, we shed some serious tears that night. I didn’t mean for this to happen—anything but, in fact—but we ended up making love one last time in the moonlight, to mutual ecstasy and agony. After we were done, he told me he’d never forget me, and thanked me for saving him. In return, I told him he’d saved me—he helped bring me back and heal. As we shared a parting kiss, I told him to find some racing girl and treat her exactly as he’d treated me… And in time, he did. He actually knew Lenora by then, though it’d be years before they finally got together. The Buildup Releasing Cruise was wrenching, and everypony noticed the difference in me for the next few days as I became moody and short with customers and coworkers alike. I told my therapist and my brother what happened; the former was troubled while the latter seemed a bit relieved—unlike my big sister, he never said so directly, but he was honestly troubled by our age difference and the fact our lives just weren’t compatible in the long run. He was right about that, but as my therapist pointed out, not all our partners need be mates. I got the impression that she thought I’d let go of him too soon and it was still too early for me to be thinking about herds again, but she nevertheless gave me her blessing, saying I’d come a long way since she’d first seen me, warning me only to remember the lessons of my past herds and not to rush into this new one. I promised her I would. The third time would be the charm, I resolved as me and my prospective herdmates started to see each other more frequently, started to plan for moving in together and how things would work. Unlike my previous two herds, we didn’t have housing at the inn and needed to find a place that could hold us all, so our first priority was to find a place to live. Accordingly, we found a cottage not far from the waterfront, a bit of a fixer-upper but one within our combined budgets. We renovated it ourselves on our respective days off, each putting in a little work on it, trying to make it our home. As we went along, a sense of unease started to creep into my psyche. You can say you’re forming a herd. You can say you’re compatible with the ponies you’re going to be forming one with. But at some point, it hits you that you aren’t just taking friends, or even colt or marefriends. You’re taking family—friends, herdmates… and lovers. You’re making a commitment to them, and them to you. At some point, it hits you how big a decision you’re really making, and how much you’re potentially giving up to do so. I had to give up Cruise, Red Pepper and Sea Salt would have to give up their previously exclusive relationship, Juniper her slightly wild life (she would have done well as a Las Pegasus server, I later thought, given her penchant for bedding boarders and dock workers alike), and Sweet Tea, her solitary life and single apartment. Haven’t mentioned her yet, but she was the third mare of our group, an earth pony server filly who had always been helpful and generous, though our occasional discussions of boys seemed to make her uncomfortable and I’d never once seen her flirt or show any interest in anypony, colt or filly alike… In hindsight, another warning. As we worked on our new place, we started to take the opportunity to get to know each other a little more… intimately. Juniper had no qualms about jumping into bed with anypony, and she wasted little time before trying to seduce me, waiting only until she had me alone at the new house. I didn’t make much of an effort to fight her, not because I was especially interested but because I knew full well I needed to find out if I was sexually compatible with everypony, and I might as well start with her. She was certainly enthusiastic, and being made love to by an earth pony mare was something new. And yet… there wasn’t much magic in it for me. To her credit, she got me off twice, but… it lacked much of an afterglow. Maybe it was because I wasn’t in heat, maybe it was because I simply didn’t have the connection with her that I had with Willow, Snow Lilly or my dentist friend, or maybe it was simply because Cruise still had a hold of my psyche. But regardless of the reason, it left me with a slightly bad taste in my mouth afterwards, and not just because I’d eaten her out to return the favor. It felt like I’d, well, just screwed somepony I shouldn’t have, and I couldn’t help but feel it would have consequences down the line. A Herd in Waiting The unfinished house became our unofficial meeting, make-out and, well… mating place after that. Juniper started it but before long we were all taking turns there, going in pairs to work on the house… and each other. My next encounter was with Red Pepper a week later. We were putting up wallpaper but only got half a wall done before we started making out. I’d been teasing him mercilessly for the past week, finally deciding I needed to both move on from Cruise and get the bad taste out of my mouth that Juniper had left behind. And what better way than with the pony who’d become my new herd stallion? I’d bedded a couple unicorn stallions back as a server mare in Las Pegasus and found them quite fun; just like my dentist friend, they knew how to use their aura to more erotic ends. Red Pepper was no different, and I quickly learned just why Sea Salt liked him so much when he began teasing me with his magic, using it to stimulate me without even touching me. Though a caterer by trade, he had one really good sex trick, and he used it here for the first time on me. He could actually rut you remotely—by which I mean, he could be standing across the room and still tuck you by using his magic; wrapping his own organ, hooves or muzzle in his aura and then replicating their exact movement and feel with a second series of aural projections against you—it was like being made love to by a phantom, and it was not only deliciously erotic, but VERY surprising and welcome when it happened! Suddenly I had a new appreciation for why Sea Salt had gone distracted and squirming a couple times at dinner. He got me off spectacularly without even touching me, just sitting there watching me react and stroking himself while his magic did all the work. When we were done and I collapsed in a puddle of sated sex on the floor, all he had to say was this: “So, was that spicy enough for you, Five Stars?” It was indeed! * * * * * All that left was Sweet Tea. When it was our turn to work on the house together, I point-blank asked her if she liked mares or stallions more. She seemed startled by the question, hemmed and hawed and finally said she wasn’t sure… by which I took to mean she was still a virgin, even being a little older than me. I was surprised by the realization—she was one of the prettier ponies I ever knew; it seemed impossible that she’d had no interested mares or stallions—but I asked her quite gently if she’d like me to give her her first time. My offer wasn’t so much out of direct desire for her as worry that if Juniper got hold of her first, then as wild as she was, she might scare or hurt this beautiful but bashful young filly. First times, I’d learned directly by then, required a little restraint and tact… which were two words that didn’t apply in the least to Juniper. Sweet Tea declined my immediate offer but said she’d think about it. I didn’t know where her reluctance was coming from; she seemed almost afraid of the thought of sex—but I let it go, deciding it was none of my business if she didn’t want to tell me. After all, I’d been afraid of rutting after my last honeymoon for how long? I told her that the offer stood whenever she decided she was ready, and resolved myself to talk with the others about her later. If nothing else, I figured I’d better talk to Juniper and warn her not to pressure Sweet Tea into doing something too soon… In hindsight yet again, a very foalish mistake for which we all paid. Not for warning Juniper, but for thinking she’d listen... For thinking that she’d take my warning as anything but a challenge. I will leave this story off here as I’m in an increasingly dark mood and don’t want to write under its influence. There is hope, however. As I finish this article, Platinum Corona has departed for Canterlot, leaving a surprising Lieutenant in charge—Rising Star has come all the way from Las Pegasus to take over the company in Platinum’s absence, as Platinum said she wanted someone experienced in running large businesses who was both dedicated to Gentlemen and had the power to protect them if necessary. I have no idea when the two met, but it’s a reassuring choice. Rising Star is one of the strongest unicorns I’ve ever known, and she’ll fill in quite nicely. In the meantime, here is the letter that Platinum left us all with: To the staff of Gentlemen for Mares, human and pony alike— I know the last week has been a difficult one. Many of us were shocked to hear of the orchestrated assaults on our Gentlemen in Las Pegasus, and the ongoing threats to our workers both there and now in Manehattan as well. I am aware that some of you hold Five Stars responsible and believe she should no longer write the articles, at least not until the current storm blows over. I categorically do not agree. Five Stars is not responsible for the actions of others, and I do not wish to hear any more talk that she is. She is writing at my direct request, telling our story through her own. The objective of these articles was to get us out of the shadows and legitimize Gentlemen for Mares, and thus far, it has indeed had that effect as we have seen both a massive surge in recruits and new clients over the past several months. Some ponies fear this. They fear their herds and positions of power will be compromised, fear that the Equestria they are comfortable in will change around them in ways they cannot predict or appreciate. They fear the influx of humans and their alien ideas; they fear that mares will come to prefer humans to themselves when all that is really happening is that their own neglect and failings as herd mares and stallions are being laid bare for all to see. As Five Stars has said, we hold a mirror up to pony society, and some simply cannot bear what they see inside of it. Thus they seek to destroy the mirror and anyone who holds it up. Their fears are understandable, but their actions are not acceptable. Were we to pull Five Stars’ articles now, we would be giving in to some very ugly sentiments and strategies that should have no place in ponydom or anywhere else. We would in effect would be giving a heckler’s veto by caving in to threats of violence and exposure, sending the message that such tactics work and can be applied elsewhere. That some ponies and people find our work and her writing ‘offensive’ does not make her—or us—somehow responsible for their hateful and hurtful actions in response. Rest assured we will NOT let these attacks go unanswered; we will uncover the assailants and discover who is behind the increasingly organized attacks on our staff and supporters. I understand if some Gentlemen wish to leave the company over the threatened exposure of their identities and the possibility of attack, but I hope for the sake of the mares you serve, that you will stay. We are doing everything possible to ensure your safety and secrecy. I am now heading to Canterlot to discuss our situation with Princess Celestia directly, and hope to return with a royal decree and enlist the aid of some powerful allies of our own. In the meantime, I simply say again, to Five Stars and all staff at Gentlemen for Mares: Carry on! And do not let the neighsayers stop you! --Platinum Corona Eloquently put as ever, Platinum. To her appeal, I now add my own: If you are a client or supporter of Gentlemen for Mares, it is time to make your voice heard. We need your support, not for me, but for the Gentlemen and the mares they serve. As that song Luna once sung to me… raise your voice, raise your hope. We need plenty of both right now. > Part 13: False Starts > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – False Starts By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines August 10 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: As many of you know, we won a major court victory this past week. With summary judgment granted on our motion to the dismiss the obscenity charges and unfreeze our bank accounts, our regular magazine issue is once again rolling off the presses. That is not the end of our court battles, of course, but it was a resounding win that marked the end of a very difficult several weeks. But more than that, we have all been heartened and are extremely grateful by the crescendo of support we have received over that time, to seeing all the people and ponies outside our offices standing in solidarity with us. We were especially gratified by the many members of all species who went so far as to offer us protection, unicorns, pegasi and earth ponies watching over our homes and offices; even some griffin veterans of the Cloven War stationing themselves at our doors, telling us they would now watch over us as human soldiers had once watched over them! I don’t mind saying now it was touch-and-go there for a while and there were points we honestly thought we were going to have to close shop and silence our printing presses forever. But it is said fortune favors the bold, and our refusal to yield combined with public opinion turning in our favor seems to have carried the day. Accordingly, Five Stars’ articles will continue to be run in our regular issues, and we have decided that as a gift to our subscribers and supporters, we will offer a special compilation of her articles upon their completion. And a special note from our staff to Five Stars herself: we understand you were feeling guilty over what was happening to us. Please be assured, we do NOT blame you for any of this, and we hope you will do us the honor of visiting someday. —Kalido Tenna, Chief Editor, New York Life Magazine Manehattan Post Owner’s Note: My regular presses are rolling again as well with the discovery of the mastermind behind the attacks, and the end of the organized harassment campaign against me and my vendors. I wish I could say all was well and I’m as jubilant as my staff, but I’m not. My favorite Gentleman was among those who had his identity exposed, and quit G4M as a result. If he was specifically targeted to hurt me, I’m sorry to say it succeeded. My Gentleman disappeared after his name and address were publicized, leaving only a letter of resignation behind. I’m taking a leave of absence from the magazine to find him, and will be turning over the magazine to my deputy, Extra Edition, for the duration. —Hot Topic, Owner and Founder, Manehattan Post Magazine Dear readers— I’m relieved to say the news is considerably better this week on both the Terran and Tellurian fronts, with arrests made on the ambush of our Gentlemen in Las Pegasus and the harassment campaign in Manehattan. It was not, however, the police or authorities who broke the case. It’s said it takes a thief to catch a thief, and in this case, it took two ponies who knew the Las Pegasus underworld and still had contacts there to snare the assailants behind the attacks. Aces Up and Double Down went undercover to root them out (for which I thank you from the bottom of my heart, boys), springing a trap on them with the help of a very brave Gentleman, setting up a ‘secret date’ between him and a mare known to be involved with the attacks. In the end, their efforts resulted in the capture of nearly two dozen ponies, among them being the stallion who menaced me during my vacation there a couple months back, and a unicorn mare who, I’m sorry to say, insisted she was just trying to ‘expose the deceivers’ among us and ensure that no more ponies would get hurt… by hurting humans, apparently. They’d been recruited by an influential Canterlot stallion upset at having one his mares leave him for a human, gathering disgruntled Gentlemen clients and angry colts alike, using his station and money to organize a harassment campaign against G4M that included finding and airing the identities of not only Gentlemen but their clients and workers at the Manehattan Post. And there’s evidence he was involved in protests on earth as well, spreading around some precious gems and magical artifacts to stir up trouble. They’re still trying to figure out how he smuggled them across the portal. In the end, he preyed on the jilted and emotionally vulnerable, forming a group he called the Harmony Equestrian Reclamation Division, or HERD for short (imaginative, huh?). Among their tenets were a dislike of humans and any perceived affronts “to the existing Equestrian order,” which included not only interspecies couples in general and Gentlemen in particular, but anypony that promoted them, including my articles and those publishing it. They had become quite well organized in a very short period of time and their members included the two ponies noted. The stallion was just a drunkard who spent more money on the gaming tables than on his herd (and then wondered why they left him), while the mare was not only the pony who’d been vandalizing our advertising signs, but also turned out to be the same one involved in an incident regarding one of our best Gentlemen in Neighagra a few months back. Upon hearing the news, said Gentleman immediately went to see her, accompanied by his handler. I have no idea how he could forgive her after all she’s done—it appears she specifically targeted one of his friends directly in the first round of attacks just to hurt him—but forgive her he did, going down to Las Pegasus to see and speak with her directly. I don’t know what happened or what was said between them, but she turned on the group and pled guilty to all charges, giving up vital information on its members and methods. Word is that a mutual friend then spoke on her behalf during the sentencing phase, reading aloud a letter asking for leniency and offering her own heartfelt plea. I’m told there wasn’t a dry eye in the courthouse by the time she was finished, including the defendant, who bawled her eyes out afterwards… He denies he asked that mutual friend to do it, but he’s fooling nopony. In recognition of her difficult circumstances and in return for testifying against the nascent group she’d joined, she was given a three-year sentence. Believe me when I say that’s a very light punishment—the usual penalty for a mare attacking a stallion under such circumstances would be five times that. As for the Gentlemen in question, I’m still amazed he was willing to help her after all that. That’s one of the reasons I find him so special and consider recruiting him among my greatest accomplishments. He’s a better person than I am a pony, that’s for sure. I don’t think I’d have it in me to forgive her… And perhaps fittingly, the next part of my story will involve an instance where I had to find it in me to do just that. * * * * * Meanwhile, on Earth… the New York Life scored a huge court victory when the judges ruled that publishing my articles did not amount to obscenity and ordered the freezes put on the bank accounts of the magazine workers by the city and province (county? state? I don’t get all these human territorial distinctions) lifted. The ruling was immediately appealed, to be sure, but I’m told by those who understand the justice system there that it’s not likely to be overturned. The threats against the magazine workers there continue, unfortunately, but there’s also been a huge groundswell of support and counter-protests, hundreds of humans and ponies alike forming physical barriers to protect the magazine offices and their workers, even going so far as to stand guard over them at night. And I was stunned to see that at the head of one of those protests, perched on a light pole leading a group of demonstrators in a pro-magazine chant… was none other than my first herd stallion, Cayenne Kick! So before I do anything else, let me thank him here, publicly: Cayenne, I saw the video of you, including the ‘TV interview’ you gave. I heard things from you I never dreamed I would, and I mean that in the best possible way—you said that interspecies relationships were a good thing, that humanity in general and Gentlemen in particular ‘were necessary for the evolution of Equestrian society’, that my articles needed to be heard, and that you’d ‘learned a lot’ from your time among humans about how to be a better stallion. When the reporter asked in what way, you answered by sweeping a nearby woman off her feet and kissing her on camera, to cheers! Well, I have to say, Cayenne… we didn’t part on good terms, but I’d very much like to go see you again at this point. I’ll even admit I was a little jealous when I saw the picture of you with that woman, how you apparently took her breath away and then hearing her say that she was your girlfriend. Oh yes, and that “Yankees” ballcap you were wearing backwards? Nice touch. If that was any indication, I’d say you’ve gone native over there! I’ll write you privately again later, but for now… it’s time to continue my story. Sweet Tea, Sour Taste My third herd, readers may recall, was an attempt to build a new herd from scratch from the midst of five good friends and coworkers at the Longshore Inn—myself, an earth pony barmare named Sweet Tea, an earth pony groundskeeper named Juniper Berry, and an existing unicorn couple from our Inn’s kitchen named Sea Salt and Red Pepper. Best of friends after a year or so working together, we decided we formed a natural group, and a herd would be the logical next step for us. [And to that idiot reporter who wrote to ask me where the Longshore Inn is, claiming he couldn’t find it… that’s because it doesn’t exist. That name is a pseudonym. I have more reason than usual to protect identities with regards to my third herd, as you’ll see shortly.] The initial suggestion to form a herd had been made in jest late in the spring, but before long, me and my friends found ourselves agreeing to do so and began working on fixing up a house that would become our collective home. And indeed, after a few months of work, the new cottage was shaping up nicely, thanks both to our efforts and my older brother’s, a dock worker and jack-of-all-trades who I think was as much trying to hasten the day that I would move out of his flat as help us. I can’t blame him, given I’d now been bunking with him for over a year and probably seriously overstayed my welcome. Our prospective new herd, however, was already showing signs of strain. ‘On paper’ as I’ve heard humans put it, we made an ideal group, with the perfect mix of personalities and roles. Red Pepper and Sea Salt were a practical, easygoing pair that loved to cook and would form the nucleus of our new herd. Juniper was an outgoing pony who loved to have fun and had a prankster streak; she would keep things interesting and the rest of us from being too serious all the time. Sweet Tea was a pony who could defuse tensions and would always be there with a comforting drink or word if the rest of us needed a pick-me-up or sympathetic ear. And myself? I would be the Voice of Experience and organizer, similar to my concierge duties, handling finances and other matters. * * * * * All well and good, but in real life things rarely work out so cleanly. The main problem was centered around one particular individual, who was already causing some issues in our group. We had agreed going into this, at my request, that there would be no lead mare; the memories of how one abused my first herd were still fresh in my mind. Normally that role would fall to the stallion’s first or current mate, which in this case was Sea Salt, but as laid back as she was, she had no more interest in such a role than I did. “Oh, come on. Can you seriously see ME as a lead mare, Five Stars?” she asked me with a wry grin when I broached the subject, and we all shared a good laugh. What we did seem to have was a potential problem with Juniper Berry, an outgoing earth pony mare with a wild side that would have given Aurora and Corona, the two changeling servers from the Mystique, a run for their bits. We hadn’t officially formed our herd yet, but she seemed to think that being in one meant all sex all the time, and that she could basically bed anyone in it she wanted to, whenever she wanted to… And that she didn’t actually have to wait until our herd was official to do so. She was in for rude awakening. So were we all, for that matter. Juniper was the kind of pony who could be a wonderful, fun friend, a pony who was good at getting laughs and making sure that everypony else had a good time, but she also had a real problem with respecting boundaries and wasn’t good at such messy concepts as responsibility and commitment. Outgoing and sexually aggressive, she could get away with things that nopony else could (and often did), but when she bucked up, things blew up pretty spectacularly… As happened almost immediately when she got wind of the fact that Sweet Tea was still a virgin. In truth, I blame myself for what followed. I told the others that Sweet Tea needed to be handled gently, preferably by me, since I already had some experience breaking in a pony with Cruise Control. To what should have been no surprise, Juniper took that as a challenge and set out to beat me to it. First Times to Forget One thing I’ve learned over the years is that, human or pony, first times are a very dicey thing. I was very lucky in that I had a stallion who gave me exactly the first time I needed, and I was in turn able to give a good one later to Cruise Control. It was a lesson, I’m sorry to say, that I later had to relearn regarding humans as well… that pushing someone to have sex before they’re well and truly ready causes more harm than good. A good first time opens up a new world to you; a world full of wondrous pleasure and possibilities. A bad first time, however… can cripple herds and end friendships, and taint the pony (or person) on the receiving end for a very long time. The first indication something was up happened when Sweet Tea suddenly didn’t show up for work one day. Or the day after. Juniper, however, was smug and insufferable, especially around me, though she wouldn’t explain why except to say in an offhoof manner that she’d ‘beaten me to the prize’. Busy with my work—it was the middle of the vacation season so we were all pulling extra shifts—I didn’t give it as much thought as I should have. It was only when Sweet Tea didn’t show up for a third straight day and even Juniper started to look worried that I went to go see her after I got off duty. I knocked on her door only to receive no answer… except a faint sobbing when I put my ear to the door. “Sweet Tea?” I called to her, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I put the pieces together. “It’s Five Stars. Are you okay?” My only answer was a fresh, half-strangled sob. Worried, I let myself in (ponies don’t generally lock their doors) and went through the living room to her bedroom where I found… “Sweet Tea!” I screamed, immediately going to her as I beheld the shattered wreck of my friend and future herdmate. She was a mess. There’s no other way for me to describe her. Her limbs were trembling, her mane was in shambles and her eyes sunken and darting like she was struggling to stay awake; it she looked like she hadn’t slept or eaten in days. I tried to help her up only for her to shriek and pull away, screaming not to touch her. I had never heard her raise her voice before, and when I asked her what was wrong the story spilled out of her uncontrollably. Three days earlier, she had gone to our new cottage to work on it, as it was her turn to do so. Juniper had joined her and immediately went to work on her, rubbing up against her, flagging her tail, and generally flirting with her. Surprised and uncertain, Sweet Tea had twice tried to leave but Juniper had played on her insecurities and coaxed her into staying. And then… And then is academic, but suffice it to say, it involved things Sweet Tea was not ready for or comfortable with, despite Juniper’s promises that she ‘would love it’ and telling her that ‘no pony should be a virgin at 25’ and ‘it was time to grow up’. She crumpled easily under such pressure in the face of the confident and aggressive Juniper, and did whatever the other mare wanted her to do, giving only meek, half-hearted protests as Juniper had her way with her and then some. To be sure, she admitted she’d never actually said no, but that was hardly an excuse to me; anypony who knew Sweet Tea knew she had a serious problem asserting herself or declining a request… a fact that Juniper had availed herself of fully, taking advantage of this poor mare and pressuring her into doing things she wasn’t ready for. Severely distressed, she’d tried to get away afterwards, but Juniper followed her home. Sweet Tea was too scared to tell her to leave, so they’d ended up sleeping together and doing things almost hourly; she told me that each time felt like ‘claws raking her guts’ and all she could do was pray for morning to come so Juniper would leave. After she’d done so—and not before forcing a parting kiss on her—Sweet Tea had broken down and cried. Saying she was traumatized by the experience would be putting it far too lightly. She couldn’t go to work for fear of encountering Juniper, she couldn’t eat because her system and psyche were so upset, she couldn’t sleep for fear of nightmares; she couldn’t even use her own bed again for the memories and flashbacks it caused… Her innocence lost, her home and very sanctuary had been tainted, and our entire herd along with it. Recognizing that she was in bad shape, I summoned an ambulance chariot and went with her to the hospital. Once she was sedated and hydrated, I sent an emergency summons to the others without telling them why. They arrived within a half hour, and the moment I saw Juniper… I don’t think I’ve ever gotten so mad, not even at my sister on Hearth’s Warming. The mere sight of her made me snap; all thoughts of harmony and my innate pony aversion to conflict fled me as I slammed her hard against the nearest wall, ready to pound her into the pavement with my hooves, and by the time I showed them Sweet Tea and explained to everypony what happened I wasn’t the only one. Sea Salt was livid as well, magically hoisting Juniper by her mane, and Red Pepper told her to give him one good reason why he shouldn’t buck her right out of the herd—to say nothing of her job—right then and there. Initially bewildered and defensive at the anger being directed at her, it wasn’t until she saw how badly Sweet Tea was hurt for herself that Juniper broke down—I’d never seen her cry before—claiming she’d been trying to help her, not hurt her. I responded forcefully by saying she hadn’t helped her, she’d helped herself—which, looking back, echoed exactly what Rising Star had told Aces Up and Double Down in the emergency room after my overdose. Wonder if I actually heard what she was telling them and remembered it here…? Regardless, guess I now know just how mad Rising Star really was as I got in Juniper’s face again and point-blank asked her if she’d also thought that we were in some sort of competition and by bedding Juniper before I did, that she’d be showing me up or beating me somehow. Her reflexive denial couldn’t hide the guilt in her gaze, and the only thing that stopped me from attacking her again was Red Pepper acting the part of a herd stallion, stepping between us to prevent it. For human readers, physically interposing themselves in the middle of a conflict is a simple trick Equestrian males can use to defuse potential fights between herdmates. Mares will sometimes go after each other but they’ll never do anything to endanger a male; keeping their stallion (or any stallion) safe is paramount and an innate instinct all mares share. Such it was here, not that it lowered my anger level any. I couldn’t turn my mane or tail to flames like Rising Star, of course, but I swear to Celestia I was just about ready to put Juniper in a hospital bed of her own after what she’d done; the physical and emotional damage she’d wrought on this poor mare. Sea Salt and I wanted Juniper out of the herd right then and there, but Red Pepper said it would be up to Sweet Tea to decide her fate, and in the meantime, ordered Juniper to “get the buck out of his sight” before he did something he regretted, and not to come back to work until he told her to. Devastated, she ran out of the room. It would be a week before any of us saw her again. The Aftermath Sweet Tea was discharged within a couple days, after she’d been sufficiently nourished and had an impromptu counseling session or two. But we all made sure she was never alone after that, both to keep her company as she slowly recovered and to keep Juniper away until Sweet Tea said she was ready to face her. After reading this, some might wonder why we thought it was a good idea to invite her into a herd. I touched on this earlier but there were two reasons, actually, and she demonstrated them both when we finally went as a group to see Juniper, who looked about as bad as Sweet Tea when I first found her. The first was that, true to her alias, she was very sweet, always there with a comforting drink or word when you needed a pick-me-up. Her special talent as a barmare was selecting and mixing drinks perfectly; knowing instinctively what our patrons needed and how they liked it. An odd but powerful gift, and one that served us all well on more than one occasion. The second reason was that she wouldn’t hold a grudge no matter how badly she’d been hurt and wronged; and as such, she was very good at defusing tension with her mere presence—after all, who would wish to raise their voice or exchange ill words in the presence of this kind, sweet earth pony who didn’t have a mean bone in her body? I guess the best word that would describe her is peacemaker, which most relationship self-help books will tell you is an essential role in any herd. Such it was here. I’ll give Sweet Tea this—for all her trauma, she did something I never had the courage to do with Aces Up and Double Down after what had happened to me on my honeymoon (and the fact that this had happened almost two years to the day after that incident was not lost on me. I was honestly starting to wonder if that time of year was cursed.) She faced Juniper and told her in characteristic understatement that she’d “done a bad thing,” saying “I forgive you but don’t know if I can be in a herd with you now.” Had it been anypony but Sweet Tea, Juniper would probably have been unrepentant. But since it was Sweet Tea… her already fragile psyche shattered, sobbing, unable to apologize enough. An emotional wreck after a week of stewing in her own guilt and having to live with the knowledge of what she’d done to her friend and future herdmate, she swore she’d learned her lesson and begged us all for a second chance. Despite her apparently real remorse and haggard state, neither myself nor Sea Salt wanted to give it… but incredibly, Sweet Tea did, not wanting anypony to be in trouble on her behalf. Red Pepper deferred to her, and after a long private chat with her and each other, we relented and said Juniper could stay but was basically on probation, and that Sweet Tea was off-limits to her. If she broke the rules again, she was out, no ifs ands or buts. She would have to earn our trust back, and it would be a long time before she would. While she headed out of town for a monthlong self-imposed exile, Sweet Tea headed into counseling—I went with her to the first few appointments, taking her to see my therapist. Her road back, as it turned out, would be even longer than mine was; she had issues that predated what Juniper did to her. Out of respect for her, I won’t go into them here, but suffice it to say, Juniper had bared an old wound fully and it would take a long time for her to heal from it. With one member under a cloud and a second in therapy, our new herd had been half-crippled before it even began. Nevertheless, we were determined to try and make a go of it… though perhaps we’d already been tainted beyond hope of saving. False Starts Dedication Day came in early September, and with it our promised date of making our herd official. Determined to go through with it, we went down to city hall and presented ourselves, registering as a new herd and officially changing our addresses to our renovated cottage. By taking formal herd status, there were various tax breaks and other benefits we could draw on, and we’d likely need them given our renovations were going over budget. There was a brief ceremony presided over by a Justice of the Peace, where we made our ‘vows of harmony’ to each other. The justice mare made a remark that stuck with me afterwards, noting that she’d never actually done a group ceremony where a herd was being formed all at once, only ones where a herd was taking a single new member. Over the next few weeks and months we would find out why. We spent the first two weeks of herdhood trying to finish work on house and get everypony moved in and settled… all things guaranteed to cause frayed nerves and short tempers, even over and above our internal drama which still hadn’t finished playing out. I wish I could say our mood was festive and happy at least for that one day, or that we had a big honeymoon planned, but in reality our first evening as a herd was rather subdued. Perhaps fittingly, our celebratory feast was take-out from the local Neigh-pon place, washed down with some cheap sparkling cider from the Inn—a far cry from the elaborate ceremony and expensive honeymoons that marked my acceptance into my first two herds. In truth, there wasn’t much for us to be festive about—Sweet Tea was in therapy and not sleeping well, Juniper was on a very short lead, tension was running high, and our cottage still wasn’t ready. The smiles and laughter were a little forced as we toasted our new herd, and as we retired to our rooms and I bedded down amongst my still-unpacked possessions, I couldn’t help but have second thoughts and wonder if this entire venture was doomed from the start. No, I told myself forcefully. We’ve had a rough start, maybe even a false one. But that doesn’t mean it has to end badly or we can’t figure things out. Our house will be finished, Sweet Tea will get better, Juniper will learn, and our friendships, though strained, will see us through. As long as we all keep sight of the bigger picture and I remember the mistakes from my previous herds, this one will be different! I promised myself. Wouldn’t it? Before I wrap this up, Platinum Corona returned with a proclamation from Princess Celestia that is going public today. Since the proclamation will be published throughout Equestria by time this article goes live, I’ll reproduce it here: To my beloved ponies and our new friends across the portal: I have followed with great dismay the news in recent weeks, seeing the hatred and xenophobia directed against our human guests and allies such as I never believed my ponies capable of. It saddens me greatly to see ponies resort to violence as a means to end, doubly so for it coming in the name of ‘preserving harmony’. I am aware of the controversy surrounding Gentleman for Mares. I have avoided addressing it until now because I did not believe it was proper for me to do so. I am likewise loathe to interfere in local legal affairs, but as this now involves attacks on humans taking place within Equestrian borders, it has become a diplomatic matter that requires me to intervene. Let me start by saying I have heard from those on both sides of the issue, taken counsel with my fellow princesses and read through the articles written by Five Stars of Manehattan. The story of her life and work may not be comfortable reading, but it is a story she has every right to tell… and the Manehattan Post to publish. That some may find her work uncomfortable or the articles offensive for the frank depictions of interspecies sex is not sufficient grounds to silence them, nor any excuse to harass those who would publish or are otherwise associated with them. I would remind those who claim otherwise that the rights to free speech and press are enshrined in the first article of the Equestrian Unity Charter. As the High Sovereign Court of Equestria has ruled more than once, there is NO right to not be offended, nor should there be. For if we made an exception on that basis, all anypony would have to do is claim offense to silence speech they did not like. My ponies, we are better than this. I understand that humans have brought upheaval to Equestrian society and will continue to do so, but that alone is not grounds to shun them or assail those who may avail themselves of the opportunities they bring. As for Gentleman for Mares itself, I take no position except to say this: If a company wishes to offer male human escorts, they may do so as long as they remain in compliance with Equestrian laws. If mares seek the company of human escorts, that is their choice; if humans wish to work for an escort service, that is also their choice. If magazines elect to publish articles by a longtime trainer of said escorts, that is likewise their choice, and readers may decide to buy the magazine on that basis or not. There is no right, however, to impose one’s own moral choices on others, and the royal court will henceforth take a very dim view of further attempts to harass the company or expose the identities of their employees and clients. When protests against an accredited company turn into intimidation and harassment, a line has been crossed; when intimidation and harassment turn to actual attacks, something has gone very wrong. If you seek to change minds and make your voices heard, this is not the way to do it. If we are truly to make informed choices about our lives and our direction as a nation, we need to hear all voices, even ones that may be discomforting or dissenting… and yes, even if what they say may be hard to hear. In conclusion, I offer the words of Queen Molyneux of the Gryphon Empire, a fellow royal and respected peer wise far beyond her years, who had this to say in an address to her subjects upon the latest news: When the humans first came, I issued a statement—a statement that served as both a warning and a reminder for ourselves, and for the humans, our then potential enemies. Fear, it seems, is a natural response to change. Gryphons can relate. In the past few years, the humans have also been an herald of great changes. We feared how the balance of power would change when they first arrived. When we witnessed their weapons and their ways of waging war, we held our breath. As proud as we are, we knew if they regarded us as enemies, there would be little chances of winning. Instead, when the enemies came to our gates, they fought with us. They bled for us. They died for us. And when they had helped us secure an overwhelming victory, they asked not for vassalage or our independence, but trade. The Gryphons are honored to have new allies and will stand by their side when they call on us. However, even I have been surprised by the recent and disappointing news of both our human and Equestrian allies. History, the cold and unfeeling observer, will remind us how we met our Equestrian allies. It will remind us of how blood was shed and how families were ripped apart. The Gryphons have been an instrumental change of shaping the Equestrian culture found today, and very few of us will forget that. The humans undoubtedly will do the same. However, it is my hope that we don't repeat the lessons of the past. I see no reason why blood should be spilled or violence be given. A great boon has been presented to the Equestrians. Fool of them should they let it be squandered. Queen Molyneux speaks a great truth, and one I urge all ponies to heed. Humans have brought great changes to us, and will continue to do so. Not all changes may be for the better. Some may even be painful to accept. But change is a part of life, and acceptance of change is a path to harmony. Yes, humans will change us… but we will change them as well. We can either fight those changes or work with them… and become better peoples and nations for them. Signed, Celestia Daybringer, Princess of the Sun, Diarch of Equestria I have to say… I never dreamed that my articles and work would catch the notice of Princess Celestia herself! Much to my surprise, she wrote me a private letter directly, which I am not at liberty to share but has already become one of my most treasured possessions. All I will say is she made some surprising observations and suggestions, and I thank her from the bottom of my heart for the wisdom, kindness and compassion she has displayed. I only hope I can live up to the standards she has set for us all. > Part 14: Crystal Cleared > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – Crystal Cleared By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post magazines August 24 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: Our presses back in business, we are again soliciting questions for Five Stars to answer in a future article. If you would like to participate, please either write a letter to the editor, or for human readers, simply leave a comment on the website—you will find an ‘Ask Five Stars’ link at the bottom of this page. Same rules as before: only serious and thoughtful queries will be accepted. We will utilize a range of viewpoints, but any question deemed overly offensive or insulting will be ignored. We would also like to extend a warm New York welcome to Hot Topic, who arrived in the Big Apple this week looking for her lost Gentleman, a New York native. She came by to visit and we gave her the grand tour, offering any help she needed in her search. Oh yes: the following article is explicit, yadda yadda yadda, if you don’t like it, tough shit. We won our court case. The articles stay. Deal. (Actually, Hot Topic was right. That does feel good…) —Kalido Tenna, Chief Editor, New York Life Magazine Manehattan Post Editor’s Note: As you know, Hot Topic has temporarily left the magazine she founded and runs, leaving me in charge for the duration while she attempts to track down her favorite Gentleman. She is keeping in constant contact with us from across the portal—no luck so far—but she’s nothing if not extremely stubborn, and I have no doubt she’ll find him eventually. In the meantime, she has left me a huge set of horseshoes to fill, but I will do my best. I would like to say that she was a rock during the worst of the H.E.R.D. harassment, refusing to crack despite being under enormous pressure, even opening up her own saddlebags to give bits and legal assistance to any employees who needed it. We would also like to express our gratitude to Rising Star, whose presence was both steadying and reassuring in the week Platinum Corona was gone. She got us set up in the G4M basement when our own offices were no longer safe, and knowing she was there watching over us was no little thing. We thank her for that, as well as the vouchers for a free four-night stay at the Mystique in Las Pegasus for all our staff. As badly as some of us need a vacation at this point, we will probably be taking her up on that offer sooner rather than later. —Extra Edition, Vice-President and Executive Editor, Manehattan Post Magazine Dear readers— The better news continues this week, with the organized harassment campaign ended except for a few scattered incidents—just some petty vandalism and a couple small streetside protests that are minor annoyances at worst. Somewhat more irritating is the fact that Platinum has insisted that I now have bodyguards wherever I go, which I find a little intrusive and unnecessary. Earth ponies may not have wings or horns, but as compensation we’re very strong and tough, resistant to magic and quite hard to hurt. As long as I keep my hooves on Tellus Firma, I’m fine. My bodyguards are a pair of griffins, surprisingly. Former Fortis Knights and veterans of the Cloven War, one of whom is missing an eye. He certainly cuts an intimidating figure, and so does his eagless partner, who bears scars of her own in the form of a mechanical foreleg—a gift from human surgeons, I’m told. They’re both professional but personable, and have some truly harrowing stories to tell. They’re by no means the first griffins I’ve known… but that’s a story I’m saving for later. Things seem to be settling down both here and in Las Pegasus, where the G4M branch office there has started taking clients again… though for the time being they’re limited where they can go. They’re restricted to certain areas of The Street and trusted resorts like the Mystique, Strotosphere and Palisades, where they can be watched over by security teams just in case somepony else tries something. We’ve likewise taken some precautions regarding Gentlemen here in Manehattan as well, though I can’t detail them. So far, so good—the arrests and royal decree seems to have taken care of things—but we’re taking no chances with our Gentlemen, as I guess Platinum Corona isn’t with me. It’s really a shame that it’s come to this, and I do hope these measures are only temporary. But for the sake our Gentlemen and their clients—it grieves me greatly to know that Hot Topic lost her favorite Gentleman—for now, this is the way it must be. I know you find this a little stifling, Five Stars, but you’re too much the face of G4M now to leave unprotected. Take it from me, though—celebrity can be a very fickle thing, here one day and gone the next, so enjoy it while you have it. To be sure, I understand better than most that there are times you need to escape it, even if just for a day, so you can enjoy life on your own terms again and walk unrecognized amongst a crowd. To that end, I know a spell or two that can disguise you if you really want your anonymity back. —Platinum Corona Understood, Platinum. I’ll decline a disguise, magical or otherwise on general principles. That smacks of having to hide who I am and what I do, which I refuse to do. The point of these articles was to bring G4M out of the shadows, and me hiding or disguising myself would send entirely the wrong message. You’re right in that I’m starting to miss my anonymity, though. I can’t really recruit new Gentlemen any longer because everyone, both human and pony now knows what I look like. I’ve even had a couple instances where men have sought me out, approaching when I’ve been out for a walk or just having lunch down the street, asking me to ‘break them in’. Flattering though it is to know I’m a mare in demand, I can’t oblige. I tend to vet potential candidates from a distance before approaching them, and part of the magic of a new man for me is choosing and seducing him myself, overcoming their internal blocks and showing them a whole new world. I guess that’s something that needs to be on my terms for whatever reason, and besides, if all I want is willing men, I have them in spades in the course of my training duties. So… sorry guys, but I’m not quite that easy. I’ll address this a little more in the next Q&A chapter a few articles out. But for now… back to the story of my third herd—and for once, I have a happy herd story to tell, though there’s a decidedly unhappy part of the story to get through first. To recap, early September found me and my four friends officially forming our herd and all of us moving in together into our new cottage… which still really wasn’t fit for habitation. Third Try the Charm I’ve heard it said that some ponies make better friends than lovers, and that others make better lovers than herdmates. After our new herd’s first two months, the truth of both assertions had been demonstrated quite vividly. Increasingly, I was coming to the conclusion that we’d been fools for trying to form a herd, and I’d been a fool for ever leaving Cruise Control, who I was missing more and more. Not only did I get no action during that time, I don’t even think Red Pepper and Sea Salt did; they were sleeping apart and very short with each other as our internal issues and ongoing cottage restoration took their toll. We told ourselves things would get better once we finished the renovations, even promising that we’d finally celebrate our new herd properly with an actual honeymoon, but at the rate things were moving it was never going to happen. Half the house remained unlivable while the floors and walls were worked on—it seemed like every week brought a new issue and a fresh repair job—and the mess and cramped quarters it caused in the remainder was almost unbearable for five ponies. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be, especially for me. My third herd was supposed to the proverbial charm; the sum of the lessons I’d learned from past herds and far better for it, but instead there was a brand new set of problems and yet more mistakes to make. It was now clear we should have given ourselves more time to resolve our internal issues and finished the house first before moving in, but it was too late to change that now. And worse, our issues were starting to spill over into our workplace, causing service to suffer and the hotel manager to more than once call us into her office to tell us to “get our bucking act together” or we’d be collectively out of a job. It was a tall order for all of us. Despite her therapy sessions, Sweet Tea just wasn’t getting much better. Outside of work she kept almost entirely to herself, staying in her closed room—she even locked it—only coming out when she had to. Even bartending at the Inn, she was very distant and often had this glassy, thousand-yard stare. Her drink-making talent just wasn’t there either—she worked mechanically, fulfilling drink orders but not putting any special twist (lemon or otherwise) on them as she normally did, nor did she engage guests like she used to. She avoided Juniper as much as possible and we helped her do it, scheduling their shifts apart so they were never at work or home together. Juniper wasn’t the same either. Guilt-ridden over what she’d done to Sweet Tea, she had been anything but her usual outgoing, confident self. Normally the life of the party and center of attention, she attended her groundskeeping duties with less than her usual care and was hitting the local watering holes hard afterwards; more than once she got so soused on cheap cider we had to collect her and carry her home. All of this was putting severe emotional strain on the rest of us as well. A herd can generally handle one member having issues without a problem, but when two or more get them at the same time, it strains everypony. More than once myself and Sea Salt begged Red Pepper to find some excuse to let Juniper go from both our herd and work, believing that Sweet Tea wasn’t going to get better as long as she was around and getting rid of her would go a long way towards relieving the tensions and cramped quarters we were all suffering under. But every time we tried, Red Pepper deferred to Sweet Tea, who remained adamant that she did not want anypony, even somepony who had all but raped her, to lose their job or herd on her account. So we muddled on, our home a mess and our barely-begun herd already increasingly in crisis. Not The End... It finally all came to a head one day in early November, just two months after we moved in. Our herd was at the breaking point, with half our house still unfinished and unavailable, the close quarters it caused exacerbated by Sweet Tea’s isolation and Juniper’s increasingly frequent cider binges (I shudder to think what would have happened if human alcohol had been available then). And the final straw, it seemed, would be a simple disagreement over paint color, with a three-way shouting match erupting over palate in the still-unfinished living space. The scene that night was our herd in a nutshell. Half the room painted, the other half a mess. Red Pepper and Sea Salt arguing and on the verge of breaking up, telling me as one to ‘buck off’ when I tried to intervene. Juniper unhelpful, half-soused and attempting to uncork another cider bottle while I heard the muffled sounds of Sweet Tea sobbing in her bedroom, sounding she was trying to shut it all out by covering her head with a pillow. And then there was myself… seemingly the only sane one of the group, splattered in paint after I’d had a brush magically thrown at me, my efforts unappreciated and advice ignored. My presence unwanted and my patience at an end, I’d had more than enough and was about two seconds away from storming out, if not outright moving out. We had no house, we had no harmony, we had no privacy... we’d had no honeymoon and hadn’t even rutted once since we moved in; our herd had been one cottage crisis or personal issue after another with no end in sight. We were a Herd In Name Only, and very shortly, it seemed, even that would be gone… and I was all but ready to wish both it and all my soon-to-be-former friends good riddance. And then… it happened. Crystal Heart All at once, the angry words and tears died off as an odd somethingness washed over us, something very calming and soothing. It felt magical, but not any like magic I’d ever experienced before; a song we could hear in our very hearts. We all blinked, staring at each other, then as one we turned towards the big window, where we could just see some lights in the deepening dusk. Our arguments instantly forgotten, we went outside, staring out over the waters of Horseshoe Bay at the colorful auroras filling the sky in a display that we later learned marked the defeat of King Sombra and rebirth of the long-lost Crystal Empire, spreading love and light throughout the land. Nopony could see it and not be affected, and as we stood out on our cottage porch overlooking the bay we felt all the conflict and anger recede from our hearts, replacing it with happiness and hope. Even Sweet Tea came out to watch, looking mesmerized. And then she did something she hadn’t had done since before what happened with Juniper; something I feared she’d never do again… She smiled. She wasn’t the only one. It’s hard to explain how it felt to non-ponies. The soft glowing ribbons of light, the inner warmth it produced, the feelings of oneness, or harmony… that somehow, a great corrupting evil, one we didn’t even know was influencing us, was gone… That a great, longstanding wrong had finally been righted. Suddenly all our arguments and issues seemed petty and trite (which they mostly were). Suddenly, all our personal conflicts and house repairs and all the strife they generated were meaningless; suddenly all that mattered was our herd and each other. We stood shoulder to shoulder, all of us, staring up into the starry, aurora-filled night sky, basking in its beauty and light. I don’t know how long we stayed out there just soaking it all in. It could have been ten minutes, it could have been an hour, but regardless, it was time well spent. For it purged us of all our anger and bad blood... For it would let us start over. A Second Chance It started with a simple gesture by Sea Salt, who laid her head on Red Pepper’s shoulder as they stared up into the sky. He responded by laying his head against hers and moving to grasp her hoof in his own, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead while to either side of me, Juniper and Sweet Tea pressed close as well. I reciprocated, placing my hooves on top of theirs. My senses, both external and internal granted new clarity, I could see everything… even their very hearts. I saw the pain and fear that had defined Sweet Tea throughout her life, her desire to help others even when she could not help herself, as well as the longing for real intimacy she did not know how to accept or obtain. I likewise saw Juniper’s true self, a mare who loved life and lived to help others to do the same, now tempered by remorse and enormous guilt over what she’d done to her friend… how she desperately wanted to atone but seeing no way she could, praying to Celestia herself for the chance to make things right. It was not a one-way street. They, in turn, saw the triumphs and failures of my past, the friends and lovers, herds and herdmates I’d gained and lost, the coltfriend I’d so painfully sacrificed for the sake of this herd… and my fear that it would all be for naught. We could also see the deep affinity that Sea Salt and Red Pepper had for each other, a core of love and devotion, damaged but not destroyed, that could yet be the core of our group… We hugged. We cried. And at that moment, we finally realized… it was within our power to save our herd and ourselves; all we had to do was to seize the moment… All we had to do was reach out for and help each other. The tears didn’t last long as Red Pepper and Sea Salt started making out right there in front of us, saying over and over how much they loved each other and how sorry they were. I’d never seen them go more than two days without rutting before we decided to form our herd, but now they’d been pent up for two months without so much as sleeping in the same bed, and it showed as simple nuzzles began to quickly turn to kisses, horns flared and auras began to work each other in the practiced manner of long-time lovers, Red Pepper’s magic reaching between Sea Salt’s legs while she returned the favor, rolling his apples while stroking and squeezing his sheath, encouraging his long-dormant stallionhood to come out and play… Not just with her, but with all of us. Myself, Juniper and Sweet Tea watched with a growing flush on our faces, not from embarrassment but from growing excitement as we all sensed what was happening… and perhaps what was to come. At first we made no move to join them or withdraw, just watching them, knowing in our hearts that before anything else could happen, these two had to reconcile and reseal their bonds. If they were the core of our group, their relationship was tantamount, and it had to be tended first. Which was not to say the rest of us did nothing in the meantime. Juniper began rubbing her shoulder and cheek hard against me as we watched the scene unfold while Sweet Tea grasped my hoof more tightly with her own, seeking strength. I was surprised to hear her breathing quicken as well; I could smell her arousal as much as I could Juniper’s. I had little time or inclination to consider the implications or consequences, and in truth they didn’t matter to me—under the light of that night and with the magic that filled it, I just knew that everything and everypony was going to be okay… That what was about to happen was not only needed, but necessary. Despite their long drought and as pent up as they’d been, Red Pepper and Sea Salt took their time to do things right, giving us quite a show. Red Pepper opened by using the same trick he’d used on me several months earlier, sitting back and stroking himself while he remotely rutted his mate and lead mare, thrusting in and out of her with an ethereal shaft-shaped construct he made out of his aura. It was a surreal experience watching it happen, and Sea Salt very graciously turned towards us to give us a better look, the translucent magical construct allowing us to see inside her by splitting her sex open and lighting her marehood up from within, letting us see all her inner folds and wetness... I’d not been able to see that construct when it’d been done to me, and It also quickly became clear that Red Pepper had been holding out on me—he hadn’t used all his tricks! As we watched, he varied the size and shape of the virtual stallionhood, causing Sea Salt to give a shuddering gasp when he expanded its size inside her to that of a Saddle Arabian, twisting it back and forth, squeezing juices out of her, then just as suddenly turning it tapered and barbed... I blinked, suddenly realizing what it was supposed to be—a griffin phallus! Sea Salt’s eyes, which had been closed, snapped open as the backwards-pointing bristles found her folds and raked them, causing her to cry out. She fell to her knees, shivering and breathing quite raggedly as he worked her with it—apparently the idea of being tucked by a griffin was a HUGE turn on to her (turned out she had a bit of a predator fetish!)—and then indulged her fantasy further by making a second construct of a griffin head clamping down on the back of her neck with its beak, adding a raucous cry. She climaxed on the spot at the illusion of being taken by a predator and I nearly did as well—I was so enrapt I didn’t even notice I was pleasuring myself!—her horn erupting in a familiar shower of magical, multicolored sparks that was double the intensity of anything I’d ever seen before, even from Rising Star several years earlier. Just like then, the sparkles drifted down like snow around us, bathing us all in them, causing warm tingles wherever they struck us, giving us the barest hint of her release and pleasure… Stimulating our own appetites, leaving us each wanting a taste of our own. Momentarily sated, Sea Salt collapsed and lay there a shivering puddle of sex while Red Pepper moved to snuggle with her. How surprised he was when she suddenly sprung up and pinned him down, going belly-to-belly with him, magically pulling his shaft upright so she could lower herself on it. I had barely enough time to acknowledge the incredible kinkiness of the act before feeling a muzzle nosing under my tail… Juniper’s! Not an hour earlier I would have greeted that with a double-barreled buck, but under the influence of that night and having seen her wounded heart, seen her remorse and repentance firsthoof, I not only allowed her to do it… I welcomed it! And by Celestia she was good. Easily the equal of Willow and Snow Lily, who had always been my gold standard for oral. My knees buckled under her onslaught and I collapsed to the ground, my eyes still riveted on Sea Salt and Red Pepper, who were now doing the swirl, pleasuring each other with tongue and aura with everything they were worth… first time I’d ever seen a mare other than me pleasure a stallion orally, and it brought a huge blush to Sweet Tea’s cheeks! Seeing it herself, Juniper suddenly pushed me on my side and then laid out beside me, flicking her tail aside and putting her flank in my face in open invitation. She briefly tried to roll on top of me before my own more dominant inclinations reasserted themselves. I flipped her on her back and put myself on top, showing off my own skill by licking and lapping hungrily at her dripping, winking marehood, causing her to cry out, her voice muffled by my own. I heard her gasping and crying as she asked for and received my forgiveness in the most intimate manner possible. Through it all, Sweet Tea was watching us wide-eyed, her cheeks flushing and breathing quickening. There was an open door to the house behind her but she made no effort to leave or retreat to her own room; instead she leaned back against the outside wall and her hoof snaked down between her legs, licking her lips as she watched the twin scenes unfold, two pairs of ponies pleasuring each other with everything they were worth. Juniper and I came in time with Sea Salt and Red Pepper, who unleashed a second orgasmic explosion of magical sparks, even stronger than the first. While they rested, Juniper and I continued to go at it—hard. Coming once did not sate us, nor did a second time as we ate each other out with as much abandon as I could ever remember. Finally, we rolled off of each other, our muzzles dripping as we lay on her backs for a moment before turning back to each other, this time to kiss. Sea Salt and Red Pepper looked at each other and then, as one, flared their horns to build virtual stallionhoods—apparently, Red Pepper had shared that trick with Sea Salt!—and began rutting us with them. We were both surprised at that but hardly fought it, going belly to belly like they did, spreading our legs wide to allow full access. They experimented on us a bit with different sizes and shapes of phallus to see what we liked most—Juniper, to little surprise went for the Saddle Arabian size (she later said she’d actually done a couple for real before!) while I… learned I liked the facsimile of a dragon shaft, its rough ridges raking my insides in a way no pony organ could, causing delicious little sparks of pain/pleasure. Eventually, for our own ecstasy and the entertainment of our unicorn herdmates, they picked us up in their auras and positioned us nethers-to-nethers, our legs scissored and marehoods connected by a single double-ended ethereal organ, a combined magical construct which they throbbed and pulsed inside of us like no cooler ever could! We were helpless and we didn’t care; a captive to our unicorn herdmates, who appeared to be immensely enjoying themselves. I spared the barest glance over at Sweet Tea, who hadn’t moved, watching us intently herself, eyes wide and licking her muzzle and she continued to work herself with a hoof… but my view was blocked when Red Pepper suddenly stepped over me, his shaft dangling in my face. Sea Salt likewise stepped over Juniper and lowered herself on top, their invitation and intention only too eagerly accepted, lost as we were in the heat of the night and the Crystal Heart’s harmony. I could imagine the sight we presented Sweet Tea with at that point, Juniper and I marehood-to-marehood and filled with a magical double-ended dildo, Red Pepper’s shaft being eagerly suckled by me as Juniper gave the same treatment to Sea Salt’s marehood, and the pair making out with each other overhead, a slight rasping sound marking the horns gently rubbing against each other, adding to their own stimulation... If I wasn’t so lost in the moment I’d’ve been amazed. Or perhaps appalled at what we were doing, but I didn’t care at all. All that mattered, all that was needed… was for us to bond, and this was how it would happen. And bond we did. We came as a group as Sweet Tea looked on, our pleasure quadrupled for as many ponies as it was shared with. It was an experience I’ve never felt before or since, a connection we all made in the most intimate manner imaginable… One that at long last made us a herd. Sweetness and Light We stayed in that pile of ponies for a few minutes before we finally separated, holding each other, crying and laughing all at once—it was all so beautiful and wonderful, how could we not? It was only then I remembered Sweet Tea, who was still over by the door. She was still leaned back against the wall, and looked very badly like she wanted to join in with us, but was afraid to. Her hoof was still between her hind legs, if unmoving; I couldn’t tell if she’d actually come herself or not. The conversation died off for a moment as the others remembered her as well. At first, nopony moved or spoke. Then, as I watched, Juniper got up, walked over to Sweet Tea, looked down at her… And instead of diving right in or taking advantage of her state, she kissed her once on the forehead, gently grasping her hoof to pull her to her feet… and then to my great shock led her over to me! “It should have been you, Five Stars,” she told me in the sincerest, most heartfelt apology I think I’ve ever heard. “Please help her now,” she begged me, bowing her head and stepping back. I didn’t know what to say or do for a moment, as Sweet Tea awaited my response, looking adorably vulnerable and needy, not sure how to articulate what she wanted. Actually, looking back I’m not even sure she necessarily knew what she wanted except that she didn’t want to be left out of life any longer. But somehow I did know, instinctively sensing that it wasn’t me she wanted, and it wasn’t a mare. Nor did she need a group scene like we just did; she needed to be tended one-on-one. And all that left, then... I walked her over to Red Pepper, who along with Sea Salt was watching us carefully. I looked at him, then back at Sweet Tea, presenting her as she tried so hard to be brave—even under the influence of that night as we all were, some traumas were not so easily set aside. Knowing that, Red Pepper stood and drew himself up straight, presenting himself as a herd stallion for what was truly the first time. “Sweet Tea?” he asked gently. “Do you want me to…?” the rest went unsaid. She nodded jerkily. “P-please…” was all she could say. I could feel her shaking as I held her hoof, promising I’d be right here and she could stop at any time—a sentiment promptly echoed by everypony else. “It’s all right. Ssshhh…” I added, kissing her gently on the cheek. “We’re here for you. This won’t be like before,” I promised her. Under any other circumstances that would have been a promise I couldn’t make, but here… I could say it and know it was true. Under the influence of this night, under the light of the powered-up Crystal Heart… there could be no strife or doubt. Only healing and harmony, love and tenderness… And the healing part was about to take center stage. Red Pepper was no amateur in the realm of rutting, and he’d already broken in a mare or two along the way. All we’d seen and done aside, he’d never actually been much for foreplay (which was later a point of contention with me), but here he spared no expense for Sweet Tea, laying little nips and nibbles along her face and ears, carefully gauging her reactions, not pushing, just gradually drawing her in, getting her used to the little intimacies that make the bigger ones so much better. It was utterly endearing seeing her try to reciprocate, inexperienced though she was. Red Pepper was a good sport about it and gave her endless encouragement, asking her what she wanted to try, doing only what she asked and nothing she did not. The three of us watching offered to leave them alone, but she asked us—asked me—to stay. I was flattered that she took comfort from my presence, so I alone kept close by while the other two withdrew. Once she was comfortable enough, Red Pepper utilized his magic to begin gentle stimulation of her nether regions, though with none of the gusto or depth that had marked his earlier efforts with the rest of us. He kept it vanilla and just very gently probed and caressed her with tendrils of his aura, causing Sweet Tea to squeeze her eyes shut and bit her lip. It was hard to tell for a moment if she was in pain or enjoying it, so Red Pepper eased off and asked her again if she was okay. She answered with a single word, barely audible. “More.” He obliged her. He brought her close to climax, then backed off, only to repeat it twice more. I could sense his intention—we all could. He was going to give her the very best experience he knew how, saving actually taking her for last, when she was finally able to accept him fully. Each time, he got a little bolder, each time he pushed a little deeper with his aura until finally, her eyes glazed and cheeks flushed, she took a deep, if slightly shuddering breath and turned around. “Be gentle…” she pleaded with Red Pepper in a very soft but adorably husky voice as she knelt before him and flagged her tail, showing her winking, glistening marehood. Showing us all that she was—at long last—ready. “I promise,” he told her, moving to mount her in the traditional manner even if she was taking a decidedly untraditional pose—ponies usually stand when they mate, not crouch—straddling her and lowering himself to position his stallionhood at her entrance, using his magic to guide himself in. And with one final confirmation and a single short thrust, her virginity was claimed properly. “Oh!” she cried out in her adorably demure voice, her eyes snapping open at the intrusion, and perhaps a brief moment of pain. “That’s… so…” she managed between gasps as Sea Salt and I sat back and watched, staying close by in case we were needed. We weren’t. Once she got the hang of it, Sweet Tea was fine, pushing back in time with his thrusts, urging more from him. To his credit, Red Pepper continually asked her at each stage if she was okay and what she wanted; whether it was okay to go deeper, harder. At first, she answered with her voice, but later, she answered only with actions, pushing back against him and giving increasingly needy cries... as she finally understood what sex was supposed to be about and decided she wanted more. The rest of us watched, tears in our eyes as the scene unfolded, none more so than Juniper, who cried openly. Sea Salt held her as the moment of truth arrived; the most important moment in our friend’s life. We saw Sweet Tea tense, heard her final intake of breath as Red Pepper thrust his hips forward for the final time, taking her properly, his horn releasing a shower of sparks for the fourth time that night as Sweet Tea gave a cry of her own. She wasn’t a screamer, though… She whinnied! Night’s End The remainder of that night was spent out on our back deck under the beautiful night sky, basking in the light of the Crystal Heart and our rekindled friendships. Red Pepper stayed with Sweet Tea after that, holding and cuddling her, never forcing her but only servicing her when she wanted to be. By the end of the night, she was even starting to get bolder herself; I woke up at one point to see her giving Red Pepper a horn job! Oddly, I never actually did get to rut Red Pepper myself that night, but I didn’t care. That wasn’t what mattered. What mattered was Sweet Tea and our herd... What mattered was each other. As Red Pepper tended Sweet Tea, I spent the rest of the night with Juniper and Sea Salt, and all I’ll say about that is we did some things that would even make Willow and Snow Lily blush. As we fell asleep on our deck in a tangle of entwined limbs and sweaty bodies, all I could think was that nothing was ever going to be the same. For on that night, we became a family… For on that night, we finally became a herd. The Crystal Empire remains a beacon of light in Equestria to this day, used for everything from political summits to the Equestria Games. I’ve never been there but I’m told the crystal ponies themselves are quite powerful (to say nothing of quite glittery!), their bond with the Crystal Heart forming a bulwark against the Windigos and ice creatures to the North; their power and magic a unifying force throughout the land. A bond we now all share. We wouldn’t know the details of the Kingdom’s history or rebirth until much later, when we learned the story of King Sombra and his thousand-year curse on the land. And the hero? Not the Elements of Harmony, or even the saviors of the Changeling invasion, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and Shining Armor. The savior of the day was a young dragon scribe named Spike, assistant to our future Princess of Friendship, Twilight Sparkle. At fifteen years old, he was just a baby dragon but brave beyond his young years, risking his life to deliver the Crystal Heart to its rightful place, allowing the long-imprisoned Crystal Ponies to unite their powers to expel the Dark King who cursed them. It was cause for celebration throughout Equestria, and the scene that played out on our back deck that night was repeated in many places, we later learned, though it did take different forms—with us, what we needed was to bond, but for others, it was anything from estranged lovers reuniting to friendships rekindled (which, now that I think about it, pretty much summed up us as well!). Nor would it be a one-time thing—its effects lingered long, and gave us a desperately second chance to make our herd work. Despite that, we woke up the next day with… well, not what I’d call a hangover, but we were more than a little embarrassed and at least mildly mortified over what had happened to us. With new clarity and insights on each other, we had a very long and frank talk about things that morning, about ourselves and our direction as a herd. Several decisions were made that morning, but the main one was a simple promise to each other that we would not squander our second chance. Upon learning of the Crystal Heart, we agreed to basically treat that night as a one-time magically-influenced event, though I think we were all surprised to find that there were no real regrets associated with it—speaking for myself, that was the only time I’ve ever done a group scene with my entire herd, and any other time might have felt a little ashamed and degraded for it. But the afterglow still in effect, I felt too good to care. That was—hooves down—the best herd sex I’ve ever had. The good feelings weren’t limited to just me. Sea Salt and Red Pepper were acting lovey-dovey again; they spent a lot of time together over the next few weeks rebuilding their relationship. For her part, Sweet Tea was feeling overwhelmed again, but this time it was for a good reason—she’d just been shown what sex and rutting could be, and it would take her some time to fully assimilate it. It would be another eight months before she asked for intimacy again, but much like me after Luna’s dream intervention, it did mark an important turning point; her therapy became much more productive and she made slow but steady progress afterwards. Juniper as well. Thanks in large part to that night, she dropped her cider habit and rediscovered her confidence, over time resuming her designated role as Class Clown and Life of the Party™... though her sexual impulses were more restrained, forever tempered by the memory and guilt of what she’d done to Sweet Tea. Not that she lost her wild side, but she got a lot more selective about when she let it loose. She later told me that the biggest lessons she’d learned from the whole ordeal were simply to listen, and not to rut ponies who were emotionally compromised or otherwise couldn’t offer their full consent... I’m sad to say, it was a lesson I would have to learn myself in due time. We’d been granted a second chance and we seized it, quitting our jobs at the Inn so we could work full-time on fixing up the house... and our friendships. It drained our collective savings but it was worth it as we finally finished the former in time for Hearth’s Warming, which we marked by putting up a tree in our newly refurbished living space and exchanging some token gifts for the first time. That night, our hearts and bellies full, we slept out in the living room in front of the fireplace and under the magical lights of the tree, a pile of cuddling ponies, believing that all was well and we were finally set… resolving that for the New Year, we would go into business for ourselves. We never did have a formal honeymoon, but there was no need. For nothing we could do would ever beat that one night… and in the end, nothing did. And for the record? We painted the living room hues of orange, chocolate, and pink. Looking back, the next few months to follow would be the best herd experience I ever had. We rediscovered our friendships, turned our refurbished cottage into a successful bed-and-breakfast, slept together and worked together, and above all else helped each other whenever we needed. Fault lines would eventually form again in our group, but for the time being we were a family and herd in every sense of the word. It’s an experience I’m grateful to have, even if it still didn’t work out in the end. You’ll learn why in the next article, but for now I’ll at least note that we parted on good terms and I’m still friends with most of them. I’m even running these articles past them before I publish to get their approval and make sure I don’t give their identities away. In fact, I made several changes to the initial draft based on their feedback. I already have letters from them to share, but I’ll save them for next time. Until then… I dedicate this article to my former herdmates, to the B&B we founded, to a night we’ll never forget... and to the Crystal Empire itself, which I’ve never actually visited. Perhaps it’s high time I do and see the Crystal Heart for myself. Thank you for another provocative and titillating article, Five Stars, one that hits far closer to home than you know—you might say that the question of the Crystal Heart is something I got thrown at once. I’m gratified to know it did so much for you and other ponies. And as for a visit to the Crystal Kingdom… that can be arranged quite easily! Just let me know when you’d like to go... —Platinum Corona Thank you as always, Platinum. I believe I will take you up on that offer sooner rather than later. > Part 15: Bed, Breakfast and Blessed Events > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – Bed, Breakfast and Blessed Events By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post Magazines September 7 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: We have been getting some new pushback of late, most notably for my ‘rudeness’ for using an expletive in the last article, with critics claiming that I should ‘be civil’ and ‘respect the feelings of others’ who may not agree with me and ‘not cheer our court victory’. “Grandstanding is unbecoming a journalist”, one letter-writer said. “If you can’t be gracious and humble, you shouldn’t be editing,” another told me, and pressure is now building once again for my dismissal. I wasn’t aware we were so uptight that a simple use of a single four-letter word would warrant such action, but fine. My apologies for expressing my sentiments as any dyed-in-the-wool New Yorker would. Perhaps it was unprofessional, but seriously… that is nothing compared to the abuse and invective we had to endure for weeks. Since I’m apparently not allowed to express my emotions or even have them like a regular person, I guess I’ll just let a newfound friend do it for me… Take it away, Hot Topic. —Kalido Tenna, Chief Editor, New York Life Magazine Manehattan Post Owner’s Note: Well then. Since it appears some feelings have been hurt, allow me to step up to the plate and offer my own two bits to something that barely rates a single rut on the rudeness meter. To everyone calling for ‘respect’ and criticizing Kalido for ‘incivility’: Where was your concern for such things when this paper and mine were under siege? Where was your ‘respect’ for freedom of speech and press when we took a principled stand against harassment and worse? Where was your concern for journalistic ethics when hit pieces were published on me and other publications aided and abetted the public exposure of Gentlemen names, driving several of them into hiding—my own included? Kalido may have to make nice for the cameras, but I don’t. I have nothing but contempt for those of you who so gleefully cheered our attackers and now claim personal injury for a single four-letter word I encouraged her to use as a means to vent. If you’re getting on her case for THAT, you’re the biggest bunch of hypocrites I’ve ever met—and having spent most of my life in Canterlot and Manehattan, that’s saying a lot. So kindly, as the humans I work with say, fuck off and go to hell. * * * * * On a more gracious note, my thanks to Kalido for letting me see and help edit the latest article, giving me the run of her offices and showing me how the news and presses actually work here. Color me impressed at both human technology and the ways it can be misused. If the worst should happen, she is more than welcome to come to Equestria and work in my newsroom. She and her staff have been very gracious hosts and I’ve had a good fill of New York hospitality while I’ve continued to search for my lost Gentleman. No luck so far. I even stopped in to meet his family, who has not heard from him since his resignation. No surprise there—he’s probably afraid of their reception right now, and what may happen if he shows his face. So I make a public appeal to him: You don’t have to hide, Chris. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Please come out of the shadows and return to Equestria with me. I’m asking not as your client, but as your friend. Come home to where you now belong. And Five Stars? I fulfilled your request to hoof-deliver some letters and will be bringing back a pair of private messages in response for you. One is from the staff of the New York Life. The other is from you-know-who. —Hot Topic, Owner and Founder, Manehattan Post Magazine Thanks, Hot Topic. I look forward to reading both. Sorry to be coy about the identity of you-know-who, but I’d prefer not to drag any more friends or former lovers through the mud of media scrutiny. So far, nobody’s been able to figure out the identities of my third herd. And given what’s happened to Cayenne and Braeburn, I’ll do my best to keep it that way. There have been a couple more incidents to speak of regarding Gentlemen since my last article. The organized harassment campaign has pretty much ended but in its place are still a few lone actors taking out their frustrations where they can. Here in Manehattan, we had an irate unicorn stallion confront a Gentleman entertaining his former marefriend. He had apparently been spying on her correspondence and, after tossing the Gentlemen aside with his magic, tried to drag the pleading pegasus mare off. Fortunately for the mare and unfortunately for him, he chose exactly the wrong Gentleman to mess with and was apparently unaware that we now only allow dates in monitored areas, with recorder crystals and human ‘videocameras’ at work. Our Gentlemen come from all walks of human life, and this one… was a former mixed-martial arts fighter who had been giving lessons to all Gentlemen on basic self-defense against ponies—something I’d never dreamt would be necessary before the last couple months. He proved the veracity of his methods by practical demonstration. A unicorn’s magic is only effective as long as they can focus, and he gave him no chance to after that. A thrown bottle disrupted his concentration and aura, releasing the mare, and then an upended table held his attention long enough to miss the blow that came to the side of his head. Once that connected he had no chance—a hard strike to the horn disabled his magic, and then he was pinned to the ground and made to pass out by the Gentleman putting him in a headlock and pressure on his carotid artery, cutting off the flow of blood to his brain… just as he’d once done to a rival fighter, he later told the story. It was only at the mare’s pleading that he didn’t do further damage—the instinct to protect stallions, even ones who have wronged us, remain very strong with Equestrian females—but he did hold him in place until the police arrived a bare minute later, keep the stallion’s foreleg in a very painful-looking lock. All this was recorded by a nearby videocamera and we got to see it later. Have to say, he’s now the man of the hour here at G4M, and is getting a lot of new client requests. After giving the police his statement—it was all recorded so he wasn’t arrested himself—he offered the mare in question his apologies and two free future dates in exchange for ending that one. She declined… but not because she was upset. She was apparently quite in awe of his prowess and physique, now accented by his torn clothes, to say nothing of his determination to defend her—a total stranger. And therein lies another reason why human men are increasingly popular with Equestrian mares: their programmed willingness to protect and fight for females, even ones not of their friends, family or species. With some exceptions—and I’ve been lucky enough to know a few—stallions generally don’t do that. Mares are expected to fight for males, not the other way around. Anyway, the mare in question was so taken with him after that she dragged him off to their hotel room by his torn tie where she rutted his brains out, paying him double afterwards. I daresay he’s now got a regular client and has also helped establish that properly trained humans are NOT helpless before pony strength or magic—something many of us already knew, but some still have to learn the hard way. We’ve also received late word that one of our exposed Gentlemen (not Hot Topic’s, unfortunately) has come out of the shadows and plans to give an interview on earth on a popular ‘TV talk show’, defending himself and his profession. We’ll be getting to see it as soon as someone gets a copy across the portal. I plan to watch it on my tablet with the Gentlemen I work with. Speaking of my tablet, I’ve lately been discovering its other capabilities, including the various games and ‘applications’ it possesses. Have to say, some of the former are rather addicting... Also, we’re going to take advantage of the publicity generated by this interview to do something a little different for the next article, which will be our second Q&A session. I will take some questions myself as promised, but we will also offer the opportunities for readers to ask questions of actual Gentlemen as well. Anything goes, as long as it’s not too insulting or offensive. Instructions for submitting questions will follow at the end of this article. Before then, however… it’s time to finish the story of my third herd. Bed… Hearth’s Warming was a happy time for me and my third herdmates, a celebration of our finished cottage and our rekindled relationships. Only token presents were exchanged—we were all pretty tapped out after spending our savings to complete the renovations—but we made do with a surprisingly good feast and cheaply decorated tree. A week later, we threw our first cottage party for friends and family on New Year’s Eve—certainly nothing as raunchy as what happened in Las Pegasus, other than Juniper getting buzzed on sparkling cider and hitting on my brother, but a good time all the same. That aside, I think my brother was just relieved to see how happy we were—he loved me, but he really didn’t want me to move back in with him, and as I’d told him before we were having problems, he must have thought that was a distinct possibility. My sisters were there too; my younger ones asking when we would have foals (I nearly choked on an hors d’oeuvre) while my older one made some snark about Red Pepper being a carbon copy of Cayenne (which he definitely wasn’t). (“Like your stallions spicy, Five Stars?” she smirked at me at one point. “Yes, and he’s got a very hot pepper!” I retaliated with an evil grin, which made her shut up. She’d gained a grudging respect for me after I’d beaten her in a fight the previous year, but still liked to mouth off every so often. It would be another couple years before she finally stopped acting like a petulant teen around me.) The night was fun, and, nicely buzzed myself, I even ended up making out with Juniper as the clock struck midnight, causing my brother to blush. Braeburn she wasn’t, but it did feel good to be able to do so unreservedly. We ended up sleeping together, and I treated her to some oral—first time we’d done anything since that night. When she asked me somewhat breathlessly how I’d gotten so good, I told her one of my first herdmates had been a thestral and she nearly climaxed on the spot. Breakfast… The party over, it was time to face a new year. We cleaned up and bade our guests goodbye the next day, sleeping off some hangovers before we put our new plans into motion—turning our cottage into a new Bed and Breakfast. And within a few months, we did. I consider the first half of that year a rare golden time in my herd life, where everything clicked and worked. We were on good terms, everypony pitched in and helped out, and all of us worked towards the day where we could open our new waterfront B&B, which saw its first customers in time for Remembrance Day in late May—the official start of the summer vacation season. In truth, I didn’t get much service from our herd stallion during that time, but for what I considered valid reasons—he and Sea Salt had to rebuild their relationship fully following months of hurt. He did sleep with me and Juniper a couple times just to make clear he hadn’t forgotten us, but his ruttings were pretty perfunctory—certainly, nothing like the full treatment we’d been given on that night. To be sure, every so often he would do one of his patented remote ruttings on us—most notably once when I was trying to show a prospective investor around the house! I still don’t know how I managed to hide it, but Red Pepper was using a virtual cooler on me the whole time while Sea Salt and Juniper just watched and smirked. I had to bite my lip to keep myself from crying out more than once, though I guess I succeeded since we did get the loan. With Sea Salt’s help, I eventually retaliated by giving him oral under the table while he was trying to sign the loan in front of the same investor! He did get the document signed, if a little shakily… but it was a mark of our herd’s strength that we could play pranks like that without hurting things between us. As for Sweet Tea, no rutting for her as her therapy continued, but she was getting better and was also our main source of income while we were readying our new B&B for business. She took a job as a barmare at a nearby pub and quickly became the favorite of the both the manager and patrons, her special drinkmaking talent serving her and her guests well. Red Pepper and Sea Salt chipped in as well, running a boardwalk food cart on the weekends, while Juniper took odd jobs around town. I regret to say that there wasn’t much I could do to earn money at that point, as most of my efforts were focused on putting our new business together and lining up our initial customers. By the end of May, we had them and entertained our first guests. All was going well and we had a slowly increasing stream of business through the summer as word got around. It was then that an event occurred that had never happened before in my herd life; an event that would change everything for us... Sea Salt was pregnant. Blessed Events There are some events in life that you forever remember where you were and what you were doing when you heard the news. Celestia knows there’s been more than a few of those over the past ten years—Nightmare Moon’s return, the Changeling Invasion, the discovery of humanity, and, on happier notes… in April of that year, a royal proclamation announcing there was a new princess. Twilight Sparkle, the longtime student of Princess Celestia, had ascended to Alicorn status, becoming the fourth pony princess. Details were a little sketchy, and there was some odd behavior from ponies around that time—me and my herdmates almost seemed to swap roles and personalities for a while there; I remember Sweet Tea and I trying to cook with disastrous results as Red Pepper ruined the hedge trimming, and Sea Salt struggling to balance our business books while Juniper made a mess of the bar trying to fix her a drink—but whatever it was, it passed quickly. It seemed Miss Sparkle had ascended by completing the spell of one of the great unicorn mages of all time—Starswirl the Bearded: “From all of us together, together we are friends. With the marks of our destinies made one, there is magic without end,” was the completed incantation, though mere words cannot describe the effect that spell had on all of us, as feelings of harmony and fellowship descended upon all of Equestria not at all unlike what had happened when the Crystal Heart was reborn. Our newest royal wouldn’t receive her kingdom or get her official title—the Princess of Friendship—until a year later, but such a rare and momentous event set off celebrations throughout Equestria. It was a little different here, as a national holiday was proclaimed and we had an open house in her honor, food and drink being served freely. In a throwback to my Las Pegasus days, I served, dealt cards, and even joined Sweet Tea behind our bar to make drinks for our guests. A royal time was had by all (pun intended), and Red Pepper and Sea Salt had their own private celebration afterwards. She’d come into estrus just a few days earlier, and they apparently conceived that night. Foals and Favorites The herd is the basic family unit of ponies. Its entire reason for being is to propagate the species and to ensure that we both have enough foals and are able to provide for them. And yet, for all my time in herds, they were not something I had any familiarity with. For the first time in my experience, a herd I was in was going to serve its true purpose, and despite the delight and hugs that followed their announcement in June, I honestly wasn’t sure how that would change things for us. We didn’t have long to find out. Red Pepper got a lot more doting on Sea Salt, spending more time with her… and less with the rest of us. In fact, he almost seemed to emotionally distance himself to the point that he didn’t want to spend time with anypony else. He tried to placate us with his remote ruttings, but even they got more impersonal, like he was just doing them to keep us happy, not because he wanted to. I tolerated that for a while, deciding it was just Sea Salt’s pregnancy that was making him act odd and once the shock had worn off, he’d be back to his old self again. But after a couple months where things were getting worse instead of better, Juniper and I pulled him aside and made clear we were feeling a little neglected—that his virtual ruttings could be fun, but when it came down to it, we wanted him inside us, not just his aura. We wanted to be kissed, be cuddled… all the personal things that just screwing us with a virtual cooler didn’t deliver. To his credit, he tried to rectify that, making a point to sleep with us several times over the next couple weeks. And yet… it didn’t help at all. I can’t speak for Juniper, but for me… it just wasn’t any fun. And the biggest reason was because I could see the look on his face both before and after—he wasn’t enjoying himself. He wasn’t enjoying us. And it was only when I saw how loving and affectionate he was with Sea Salt in comparison that I understood why. It wasn’t that he didn’t like me or Juniper, and it wasn’t even that his lead mare was pregnant. It was that his heart belonged to Sea Salt, and in his mind, to give another mare the same kind of attention and full treatment he gave her was betraying that. In truth, even before the pregnancy he’d never been for physical ruttings as much as remote ones, and in hindsight, it was his way of keeping some emotional distance… His way of reserving his deepest physical and emotional intimacy for her. And therein lies the single greatest flaw of a herd. It’s a structure designed for polygamy and multiple partners, but not everypony is wired that way. It’s not even a mare/stallion thing; it’s that some ponies, like Red Pepper, simply can’t split themselves emotionally. And even for those who can, like Cayenne (if he’d been allowed to), it’s just asking too much for a stallion to love or treat everypony equally. Even without an abusive lead mare like my first herd, favorites are inevitably played, like Red Pepper with Sea Salt, and some mares end up not getting the attention others do. That’s fine if you’re just good with the occasional cuddle or rare rut like Sweet Tea was at that point, or if you’re more into mares like, say, Willow and Snow Lily were, but not-so-fine if you’re like me—needing and craving male company, and not willing to go outside of the herd to get it like Juniper (we were all pretty sure she was seeing some stallions on the side at that point. Nopony complained since that kept her happy and focused at home.) So is it any wonder that so many mares, even ones in herds, inevitably seek out Gentlemen? When a herd or herd stallion doesn’t give you what you need, you have to get it from somewhere. The purpose of Gentlemen isn’t to steal away mares from their herds, but more than a few have left them after an encounter with one, realizing they have other options now and they’re not locked into unhappy situations anymore. If that’s ‘encouraging adultery and disharmony’ as I’ve heard some ponies describe Gentlemen, then guilty as charged. I’d rather see ponies break the rules and be happy than rigidly follow them and never truly know a male’s attention or love. ‘Harmony’ is not a social contract to feel neglected and unhappy for the sake of staying in a herd. The Ties That Bind Things came to a head one day in late summer, with Sea Salt starting to show (and could somepony tell why relationship and herd things always seem to happen with me around that time?) Four months into Sea Salt’s pregnancy, tensions were rising within our group again, with some short tempers and harsh words having been exchanged between me and our two lead members. We had no wish for things to descend to the depths they had before the Crystal Empire’s rebirth, so we sat down and tried to hash things out immediately. As Sweet Tea played barmare—just her presence kept things civil, and her drinks kept our tongues loose without crossing the line into outright bickering—we discussed personal grievances and living arrangements. The main question before us was how we were going to both run the B&B and raise foals in the same house, only to realize… it really wasn’t possible without a house expansion we just didn’t have the money for, and even then, we wouldn’t have the income to support everypony and probably wouldn’t for some time. We’d end up with a tight budget and cramped quarters again, be unable to give ourselves, our foals, or our guests the space and privacy we all needed. But even if not, as long as Red Pepper continued to devote all his time and emotional energy to Sea Salt, there was little point in having a herd. Red Pepper was chagrined and promised things would be better after Sea Salt gave birth, but nopony believed him. “It won’t,” I told him, going on to explain why, saying I didn’t blame him but at the same time, I wasn’t getting what I needed and increasingly felt like the fifth wheel of our group. Juniper agreed and later talked to me privately, saying she could set me up with some stallions on the side like her, but… I didn’t feel right doing that. We were still a herd, and that wasn’t a line I was willing to cross. Things would be different come my fourth herd, but… that’s a story for later. It was a good, frank talk. We slept on things afterwards, agreeing to meet up again for a final decision in a week, though I think we already knew in our hearts what had to happen. In the end, there was really only one choice that would save our B&B, provide space and sufficient income for new foals, and yet still maintain our friendships… and that was to break up our herd, have a couple of us move out so there would be enough room and money for those who remained. It was thus, just over a year after our herd’s inception… we returned to city hall and signed the documents that ended it. That we knew we were doing the right thing was little solace. It was a sad and somber time for all of us, and more than a few tears were exchanged as Juniper and I started moving out. We’d been through a lot, we’d overcome a lot, and yet… it still wasn’t enough in the end, leaving me wondering if I was somehow cursed. Was there nothing I could ever do that would make a herd work? Reflections My third herd’s failure was another bitter horse pill to swallow. Still, there was no denying that many good things that came out it, including a new B&B and the single best night of herd sex I’ve ever had. Our friendships and new business endured even if our herd did not, and I’m happy to say I’ve kept in touch with all of my former third herdmates over the years. Sea Salt and Red Pepper stayed behind to run the B&B along with Sweet Tea, who didn’t need lovers or herd at that point so much as supportive friends, and in time made an excellent nanny and foalsitter. Juniper moved out but stayed nearby to do the groundskeeping duties and help out when needed, but she fully resumed the role in life she was always meant to play—a free agent and party animal. And as for me… I stayed in town long enough to make sure the B&B’s business affairs were in order, but eventually decided it was time to move on again. True, I could have stayed like the rest to help run or at least transition the B&B, but in the end, I decided that would bind me emotionally to the place and wouldn’t help me move on. It was hard to say goodbye to everypony again, but at least this time, it was on good terms. The entire group was there to see me off from the train station, and we all shared a good cry as we said goodbye. I promised I would keep in touch, and I did. There was one weird and rather shocking coincidence, however, that accompanied my departure… one that ended up keeping me from brooding too much (at least, not about my latest lost herd!) The day before I left, a letter arrived from Las Pegasus that I ended up reading on the train ride out. It was announcement from Willow and Snow Lily that they were joining a new herd. In it was a picture of them with their new herd stallions, and my jaw hit the floor when I saw who they were... Aces Up and Double Down!!!!! While readers digest that (and make no mistake, it took ME a very long time to!), I’d like to share some letters given to me by the ponies and still-friends of my third herd. Apologies for the occasional redaction, but I’m being very careful not to expose them and certain information could give them away. Dear Five Stars, Well, we really have to say… of all the jobs we ever thought you might end up, training human men in pony sex was definitely not something that ever crossed our minds! We have followed your articles curiously if not eagerly—we’ve certainly had a few human customers by now, but have no interest in bedding them. We’re happy with each other, as we always were, and the biggest lesson we learned from that whole herd experience is that we needed to be in an exclusive relationship. In truth, we’ve been asked more than once whether we are, in fact, your old herdmates, and we tell them no, pointing out that our Maretle Beach home is nowhere near Baltimare. When challenged about the similarity of names and the fact we’re unicorns, we just list the names of a dozen other stallion and mare unicorn chefs we’ve known in the restaurant industry that were based on spices as well, including several couples. So far it’s worked and we hope to keep it that way. Don’t know how you pulled off getting all our old residency and business records removed, but thanks for all the effort to hide our identities. We don’t like lying, but we’d rather keep our privacy intact and our cottage a cozy retreat—which it categorically would NOT be if the press suddenly descended on us. I suppose you could argue the publicity would be good for business, but that’s not what we’re about. Still… your original observation was correct—when all was said and done, we made better friends than herdmates, and breaking up was the right thing to do, hard though it was at the time. You know what became of us afterwards, how we got married and became that rarest of pony couples, a Matched Set of a single mare and stallion. To those who complained or told us we were being selfish, we simply said we were following in the footsteps of Prince Shining Armor and Princess Mi Amore Cadenza—after those two paired off, matched sets got a lot more acceptable. Amazing what effect a little royal love affair will have! Regardless, the B&B you helped found remains in business… though we still haven’t found anypony as good with finances and hospitality services as you. So come visit sometime! Our foals would love to meet their Aunt Five Stars! To be sure, the place looks a lot different now—like most of the Equestrian hospitality industry, we had to make some upgrades to accommodate human guests, and we think you’d appreciate the changes. And as for that one night… well, we daresay it will never be equaled. And you know what? That’s fine. Let THAT be the defining moment of our herd than any of our issues or eventual breakup. With Warm Memories, —Ocean Spray and Serrano Seed, a.k.a. “Sea Salt” and “Red Pepper” Thanks, you two. I’m very happy you found contentment and an arrangement that works for you. Consider the B&B a gift from the rest of us. And yes, I’d very much like to see you again. I promise I’ll make an effort to do so… but you’ll forgive me if I think it best to wait until the press frenzy has died down a bit. Moving on... Hey Star-Butt! Long time no hear! I’ve been following your articles and I gotta say, you’ve got a job that makes me jealous—getting paid to lay all the human guys you want and teach them how to properly pleasure mares? Sign me up! Still, I know where you’re coming from and do get the appeal. I’ve had my fill of human guys by now, starting with one who gave me a good grope in a Baltimare bar and I invited to my place after, and yeah, I agree they’re often—but not always—better than the average stallion. You’ll be happy to know I’ve broken in more than a few myself by now, one in particular I see regularly and is probably the closest thing to an actual coltfriend I’ve ever had. Don’t know if I could ever truly settle down, but if I’d do it for anyone, I’d do it for him. I do find it interesting you made me an earth pony instead of a pegasus—can’t imagine my sex life without my wings!—but that’s for the best, I guess. As much as I like being the center of attention, some notoriety not even I need. Nobody’s guessed that ‘Juniper’ is me, and yeah, that’s the way I’d rather keep it. We had some rough times that year, as well as some really good ones… most notably THAT NIGHT... It saved our friendships, even if not our herd in the end. There are times I wish things ended differently for us—that night was hooves down the most fun I’ve ever had, doubly so for that foursome we ended up in! But you know… the best part of the night wasn’t the sex for me. It was the feeling of being forgiven and seeing our precious ‘Sweetie’ heal; knowing she was finally going to be okay. I’ll never live down what I did to her, and now, whenever I want to lay somepony I sense is a little iffy, I just ask myself one simple question: would I do this if it were her? If the answer is no (and it always is), I don’t go on. It’s saved me from myself more than once. I still love [Sweet Tea] to death, and honestly you as well… how can I NOT love ponies who found it in themselves to forgive me after what I did? Love to see you again—don’t be surprised if I show up at the doorstep of G4M looking for you someday! Serious, though, enjoy your fame, and all those human stallions! Rut a couple for me! No Gentlemen needed for this mare… because I always get my man (and occasional woman!) anyway! —Tiger Lily, a.k.a. “Juniper Berry” I have absolutely no doubt that’s true, ‘Junie’. You were always the proverbial tiger, a predator of ponies who stalked stallions and mares alike. No surprise that carries over to humans now! I’m glad to know you learned from that whole ordeal, and I certainly acknowledge you did your very best to make things right. I saw your heart that evening as you saw mine, saw your remorse was real, and that’s why I was able to forgive you… let alone do all the other things we did that night! We’ll find a way to get up sometime, I promise. And last but definitely not least… Hello Five Stars— It’s been awhile and I’ve really missed you. I’m glad to see you finally found your true calling, even if I find the idea of it a little difficult. I’ve read your articles, and I see you made me an earth pony instead of a unicorn. That’s fine—I don’t want anypony to know it was me. But I do want to thank you for all the ways you tried to help me. Of our entire herd, I felt most at ease around you, and having you there that night gave me the courage to do what I did. I’d like your readers to know once more that I don’t want anypony hating [Juniper] for what she did. She didn’t mean to hurt me, and she’s done everything she can to make it up—lately she’s even been trying to set me up with a stallion! I’m going to try going out on a date with him next week... I wish I could say I’ve made some friends among humans, but the truth is that they are, well, a little scary to me. They’re tall, they’ve got those teeth, they eat meat… but they do have all sorts of new alcohol and mixed drinks for me to learn and tinker with. I actually sent away for a list of bartending recipes from earth, and you would not believe how big it is! I think you’re very brave to work with them, let alone rut them—I don’t think I could! Please visit sometime? I’d love to see you again and show you some of the new drinks I can make... With love and friendship, —Mint Julep, a.k.a. “Sweet Tea” But I’m not brave, Sweetie. Bravery is doing the things you’re afraid to, as you did repeatedly, first by facing Juniper and then by facing your fears and letting Red Pepper rut you for the first time. I’m very glad I could be there for you and that I was able to help in some small way. I know firsthoof that the hardest and bravest choice sometimes is just to heal, and I wish you the best of luck with your prospective coltfriend—I trust ‘Junie’ to not push you now, and you to not let yourself be pushed. And yes, I would love to come visit and see what you can do with human alcohol! With that, the story of my third herd is complete. I can’t help but feel an echo of the emotions I felt then, the regrets and mistakes, the painful decision to end it, the cold comfort that it was the right thing to do… but then I also remember all the good that came out it, the fun times we had, the friendships that endured and the lessons we all learned. It enriched us all, and in the end, you can’t ask for anything more out of relationships than that. As promised, next week’s article will be a Q&A session, not just for myself but for our illustrious Gentlemen as well. Instructions will follow on how to submit questions. We look forward to your queries, and the coming interview on earth. We may even include some parts of it in the article. > Part 16: Q&A with Gentlemen for Mares > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – Q&A with Gentlemen for Mares By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post Magazines September 21 issues —Why would you prefer ponies over people? Isn’t that bestiality? “People ask me all the time why I would choose to screw a horse instead of a human. My answer is very simple: I don’t. I make love to ladies no less lovely or lively than the ones here. Mares are just as smart, savvy and pretty as any human women… and have far fewer hang-ups for it. ‘Bestiality’ implies that they’re mere animals, which is utterly insulting to them. As Five Stars herself has said, can you truly reduce a race that raised cities, wields magic and opens portals to other worlds to mere beasts just because they walk on all fours?” —How did you end up a Gentleman? “I didn’t go to Equestria with the intention of sleeping with ponies, let alone becoming a Gentlemen. I was a tech worker who volunteered to help set up the telephone system there and ended up falling for my pony liaison. She was curious about me, she treated me well… she even seemed flattered by my interest, clumsy though it was. We started seeing each other after hours, and in time an old story played out—we were lonely, we got drunk and ended up in bed together. In time, that liaison became my G4M handler, and we’ve maintained our relationship ever since…” —What was your first time with a pony like? “In all honesty, not well… due to our mutual drunkenness and unfamiliarity. Neither of us knew what we were doing. But she didn’t judge me, she didn’t wake up the next day and decide she regretted it or use the fact that we’d both had alcohol to claim I’d raped her, as happened to a former frat brother. “Once we got over the hangover and awkwardness, we tried again a few days later, and it went far better—I consider that our true first time. As the weeks went by, we learned from each other, figured out how each other worked, and before long… I didn’t see her as a pony, I saw her as lover and my, well, marefriend, one I couldn’t live without. And the feeling was mutual—she loved the fact that I’d treat and dote on her, that I’d see to her needs instead of just my own… that I made the effort to listen and do what she wanted.” —What’s the difference between ponies and people? “Ponies are people no less than us. But the biggest difference between the mares and women I’ve known is that the mares reciprocate. My marefriend doesn’t demand her needs be met first; our relationship isn’t all on me. She listens to me, she respects me, she doesn’t make unreasonable demands of me and then come down on me or go crying to her friends when I can’t meet them. Instead, she takes responsibility for herself and her side of the relationship… unlike most of the girlfriends I had on earth.” —But isn’t the fact your marefriend and clients are ponies part of the attraction? “Yes, the fact that we’re different species and therefore exotic to each other is part of the attraction, and certainly adds some spice to things. But ultimately, I was attracted to my handler as a person, not as a pony.” —Do you prefer Equestria to Earth? “Yes. At this point, I’d much rather be in Equestria. I’m funny in that I’d rather be in a place where I’m appreciated and loved, and not denounced and ridiculed for my chosen profession or told I’m somehow less of a man or anti-woman for it. A place where I get as much out of my work as my clients do. And that’s why I’m here to announce… that despite the fact that I’m no longer anonymous, I’m returning to that life, if Gentleman for Mares will still have me.” —Levi “Postman” Jackson, ex-Gentleman, Gentleman for Mares, Equestria Well, readers… these were some highlights of the ‘talk show’ interview with one of our exposed Gentlemen, whose name is apparently now the talk of both worlds. Every employee at our Manehattan G4M Headquarters piled into our building’s ground floor nightclub lounge and watched the whole thing on a ‘projector’ hooked up to my tablet, once a copy of the video had made it across the portal. The cheers were repeated and raucous, especially when he fought back against one self-described ‘feminist’ who told him his profession and mares in general were ‘setting back women a hundred years’. I had to have ‘feminism’ defined for me, and I have to say, for a movement that’s supposedly grounded in the idea of gender equality, there seems to be an awful lot of man-blaming and shaming, and promotion of a culture of victimization where women are never responsible for anything and men are always at fault. Perhaps I’m just getting one side of the story from our Gentlemen, but it seems to be a common theme with the men I’ve known. If the idea of a movement, or at least its self-described leadership is to demonize and emasculate an entire gender, how is that ‘equality’ in any sense of the word? I’m down on stallions at times, yes, but not because I believe they’re inherently bad or part of a ‘patriarchy’ that exists to suppress my gender—another term I had to have defined. I come from a culture where males were once mere property, pampered and protected at best or enslaved as breeding stock and workhorses at worst. It seems to me that some women that subscribe to this movement would see that ugly chapter of Equestrian history brought to earth, and then blame the men for it anyway. The only word I have for that: disgusting. I said this in the first Q&A session, so I’ll say it again here: Stallions can learn something from men on treatment of mares, and I daresay women can learn a few things from mares on how to treat and keep a male as well. It disgusted me further to see some of the vitriol directed at our Gentleman by a few women in the audience, and I thought it was more than a little unfair for the host to spring his parents on him mid-interview just to make him squirm. To his credit, he handled it well, telling his father that “You told me to treat girls right, and that’s what I always do,” adding “it isn’t a sin to help others, even in the realm of sex,” when his mother questioned him on the ‘immorality’ of his work. When someone in the back shouted that he wasn’t helping others, he was just helping himself to ‘lonely pony girls’ who were somehow unable to say no, he brought his own surprise guest out—his handler. She then stood up for her stallion like any good mare, facing down the hostile host and proceeding to lecture the audience, recounting their first encounters and all he had ultimately done for her—breaking her out of an unhappy situation, showing her the life of love and pleasure she could have, giving her the courage to make the break with her herd and seek out fulfillment elsewhere—with him. “What he did for me is something he’s done for many a mare now. Mares make the choice to seek out a Gentleman because they’re lonely, yes, just as I was. He answered the call of my heart and was everything I could ever dream of in a male. He set me free and showed me sides of myself I never knew I had, and I love him for it!” she told the shocked audience, daring them to tell her to her face she was a ‘dumb animal’ who couldn’t really offer consent, making her point clear by rearing up to kiss him. The entire hourlong interview was hard to watch at times, but I daresay Postman did more for G4M in one sitting than all my articles have done over the past eight months. That may be true. But none of it would happened without your articles, Five Stars! –Platinum Thanks, but… can’t you let me pretend to be humble just this once, Platinum? Well, I daresay I speak for everyone at G4M when I say that ‘humble’ is not in your vocabulary, darling! Point taken. Well, if nothing else, I hope this makes clear it’s NOT all about me, and never was. It’s about our Gentlemen, the mares they serve, and what it means for two societies, both of which have some growing to do. It pleases me greatly to now see that G4M is indeed a catalyst for that growth. And after that interlude… let’s get to the questions! In a change, we’ve decided that we will allow our Gentlemen to identify themselves using their call signs, if desired. Not all have chosen to do so, but that doesn’t imply shame so much as simple humbleness or a desire for privacy. Let’s open with this little gem: Q: So, Gentlemen, what’s wrong, you’re so ugly and nerdy you couldn’t score with chicks, so now you bang alien animals? —A Real Man And people wonder why we prefer Equestria. To begin with, Gentlemen in fact come from all walks of life, military and civilian, everything from computer programmers and bank clerks to ex-soldiers and MMA fighters. Some were married, some divorced, some have kids, many had earth girlfriends and found more fulfilling relationships with mares. Speaking for myself, in all honesty, I was one of those nerdy guys who couldn’t score. No longer—becoming a Gentleman has done wonders for my confidence, my body, and my self-esteem. I’ve visited Earth a few times since I became one, to spend the holidays with my family and friends. I’ve never told them what I do, but all have remarked about the change in me, both physical and mental. I’ve even been able to attract and bed a few human girls since I started ‘banging’ mares, and I have to say—I honestly prefer the average mare to the average woman. They may have the appearance of animals to the ignorant and uninformed, but believe me, they’ve got as much spirit and personality—and generally far fewer emotional or physical hang-ups—than the typical human girl I’ve known. If you’re saying it’s laughable what I do, the joke’s on you, pal. I sleep with beautiful ladies for a living, wine and dine them on the company dime, help them expand their horizons and leave them with a smile on their face after a night to remember. Can you say the same, ‘real man’? —“Cavalier” Ouch. That should leave a mark! Q: Dear Five Stars—How many men approximately would you say come to Equestria looking to be Gentlemen rather than falling into it out of necessity? Until recently, very few. We recruited most our Gentlemen right off the street. Now, after eight months worth of articles, G4M has gotten enough notoriety that we do indeed get some men soliciting us to become Gentlemen, and we’ve had to put some procedures in place for dealing with that. In truth, to this point we haven’t accepted many that have come to us, since they tend to have more selfish motives—just looking to get themselves laid as opposed to help mares. The job is first and foremost about the mares, and those who are in it for themselves don’t make it past the initial screen. Seriously, guys. You don’t have to be a Gentleman if you’re just looking to lay a mare. You can accomplish that in just about any bar or club in Equestria. But I’d strongly encourage you not to come here just for that. A Gentleman is something more, because mares ultimately need something more than a cheap lay or impersonal rut. If you’ve learned nothing else from all these articles of mine, I hope you’ve learned that. Here’s one of the more unusual solicitations I’ve received: Q: Dear Five Stars, I would like to know if it is possible to receive Gentleman training, I mean, I don’t want to become a Gentleman, but I would like to learn how to please a mare, because of a bad experience I had with one once, lets just say I wasn’t able to please her, which left my self esteem very low and kind of depressed for a while (its painful for men if our partner tell us how bad we are in bed in our face); if its possible, how much would it cost, I’m willing to pay for the training, and I’m sure that other men would so as well, thanks in advance. Well. I don’t think we’ve ever had a request like this before! I’m surprised and saddened to hear you had a bad experience with a mare, which are usually quite forgiving of first-time humans, particularly ones who are trying their best. Just goes to show that what holds for groups does not hold for the individual, and I’m very sorry you encountered one who put you down like that. I know how much that hurts, but I’d encourage you to try again and not let one bad experience discourage you—there are plenty of other mares out there who would be willing to give you all the help and training you need—you don’t need to come to G4M for that! As for G4M training men in sex for reasons aside than becoming Gentlemen… though I could certainly see some business opportunity in such a thing—men paying us to train them?—I think I can guess what Platinum’s answer would be. Actually, I think that’s a VERY interesting idea, and one we’ll have to discuss later… it would certainly be a way to expand our brand and help more mares and men in the process! —Platinum Well, then… stand by! Q: Is there such a thing as a part-time Gentleman? Increasingly, there is. It certainly wasn’t this way to start, but by this point we do have a few Gentlemen who specialize in certain things and are only used for that purpose, and yes, even a few Gentlemen who only entertain select clients. We’ve had one or two instances of Gentlemen leaving the company to settle down with a single mare, but staying on call for certain other mares they knew. Such Gentlemen do not accept new clients, but remain there for their old ones. It doesn’t always work out that way, though. We’ve had cases of Gentlemen burning out on the job and needing to leave the life entirely. It’s not for everyone, and we’ve learned to give our Gentlemen ample vacation time and breaks between clients now, to physically and emotionally recharge. Q: To Five Stars and the Gentlemen: With the amount of sex you’re all having, aren’t you afraid of catching some sort of STD? Just curious. Once again, I had to ask a Gentleman what this meant. STD stands for “Sexually Transmitted Disease”, of which I understand there are some decidedly nasty ones on Earth. Well, all humans who pass through the portal get a security and health screening, and there’s in fact a fairly lengthy list of conditions that disqualify you from portal passage in either direction, anything from Cutie Pox to something called “Mad Cow Disease”. You literally can’t pass the portal if you have any of these diseases; the enchantments wouldn’t allow it even if you tried. In any event, I’m told that given differences in our body temperatures, pH levels, blood composition, etc, it’s actually very hard—but not impossible—to pass diseases between ponies and humans. I haven’t heard of any STDs so far, but even if one should pop up, I’m reasonably certain that our medical magic would find a way to contain or cure it pretty quickly. I’m not so sure that’s true, Five Stars. Ponies are very good with magical ailments, yes, but not so much with regular physical ones. Ponies still get colds, for example, and I seem to recall the Feather Flu is a yearly visitor with Pegasi. That’s part of the reason humanity was so careful about crossing over when the portal was first opened—we didn’t know whether we’d be introducing any new diseases you had no resistance to, and vice-versa. Even today, there’s still no guarantee it can’t happen. —“The Doctor” I stand corrected, Doctor. Trust a former human MD to set me straight on that one. Another example that our Gentlemen come from all walks of life, though I’ve never gotten some of the jokes that seem to revolve around his call sign. This one actually serves double-duty as both a Gentleman and a doctor to them—hence his alias. Next, a rather snarky question for one of my most hard-won and special Gentlemen. Don’t hold back! Q: To the so-called ‘Gentlemen’: What do your family/friends back on Earth think of your job? I mean, aren’t you basically just dressed-up prostitutes? Why would you choose to do this? I do this because Gentlemen For Mares saved me, and I’m able to save others in turn. My life had been turned upside down before I met Five Stars—in case you were wondering, yes, she did recruit me—and I was very close to giving up, permanently. I know that and so does my family. So I guess you can imagine that they are very happy I found a place that gave me purpose again. The only one that still has a hang up about it is my brother, but he’d feel that way about sex with anyone. I’ll admit my parents were hesitant to begin with, but I think I was more stubborn than them. Star didn’t offer me a job, not at first. She showed me a good night, and not in a romantic way either—she lead me around Manehatten in that stubborn way of hers, dead-set on me having a good time. In the end, she won. She convinced me to stay in the city for awhile instead of going back to Earth. It took her three months of casual goading to convince me to finally go to G4M, and another two months before I finally put on my first Tux. So unlike some Gentlemen I could mention, I put up an actual fight! I was still uneasy at my first job. It didn’t help that my client for the evening was fairly distant. When we got to her apartment I was doing my best not to look the way I felt, which was a wreck. Inside her apartment I found a disordered home. It was uncared for and uncleaned like it belonged to someone who’d given up. She went to take a shower, and while she was there I found a photo of my client embracing a griffin. Apparently, he was her husband and she lost him in the Second Cloven War. She was bent, and her friends knew she didn’t mind other species so they convinced her to try G4M’s services to make her feel better. Obviously, she wasn’t ready. She caught me looking at the picture, and I’d wager she would have thrown me out if she hadn’t broken down at that moment. People want to talk about the sex, because we’re obsessed with sex. It’s natural, yet profane. It can be the most selfish or selfless thing one can give or take. But as Five Stars and Platinum have noted repeatedly, sex is NOT what G4M is about. Do I have sex with my clients? Yes, if they really want it. However, there have been plenty times where I’ve just been an ear for listening, an accessory to combat loneliness, or a shoulder to cry on. Gentlemen are NOT sex-obsessed deviants trying to satisfy some kink. We, as Gentlemen, are companions. We’re friends. We’re that person that gently lifts you out of that hole you’ve fallen into and helps you back onto your feet, or in our case hooves. We cure pain and treat loneliness. Who wouldn’t choose to do that if they could? You ask why I do what I do? It’s because in a small way I know what it feels like to have your center ripped out of you making you feel lost. I also know what it’s like for someone, or somepony, to show you the way back. Such was the case with my first client. I didn’t have sex with her, but I did spend the night holding her and letting her release all that pent-up heartache. I offered myself up as a cushion for her pain. After she finished crying, she finally felt like talking, and that’s all we did that night until I had to leave. We talked about everything; her pain, my pain. She helped me as much as I helped her. When I left that morning she was smiling, and so was I. My parents know what I do. I feel no shame in telling them about the mares I’ve helped back up, and they’re proud of me for it. If that’s not enough to convince you they’re okay with it—that I’m okay with it—then consider this: my brother’s idea of an occupation is throwing himself off of a cliff for an energy drink company. Out of the two of us, who do you think keeps my parents awake at night? And Five Stars? I know I never really said this before, but… thank you for saving me and being so persistent about it. As stubborn and lost as I was, it was the only way you were going to get through to me back then. —“Nightlife” You’re very welcome, Nightlife. I consider you one of my greatest achievements, and I don’t mind saying that you’re one of the Gentlemen I’d consider settling down with if the time ever came. Thanks for a very thoughtful but direct response. Nothing I can add to it. I have plenty to say about this next letter, though… Q: Dear Five Stars, Last Christmas, our son brought home a mare and announced to the whole family that he was in a ‘relationship’ with her. The rest of the family did not take this well and by the end of dinner my husband and my son were practically screaming in each other’s faces, saying things so horrible that I dare not repeat them. We haven’t seen nor heard from our son since that night. I have no idea what’s become him and not one member of my family seems to care, not even his father who now refuses to even say his name. So my question to you, Miss Five Stars, is why you seem to have little to no empathy for the shattered families who have to deal with the heart-breaking reality that their sons have chosen to have relations with something that isn’t human? Wow. There is so much wrong with this I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t usually get angry over hate mail, but this one made me so mad I wanted to smash something. First of all… exactly how is your ‘shattered family’ MY fault? YOU were the ones who chose to reject and disown your own son simply because he found happiness and love in a place you didn’t expect, and then you act surprised that you haven’t heard from him since? Instead of making an effort to understand his choice or get to know his new marefriend, you attack him—and me—for breaking YOUR heart? How dare you. You are correct on one point—I have zero empathy for you after what you did to him and what I can only imagine is his equally shattered marefriend. I can only pray they’re still together and you didn’t drive them apart, or worse, to suicide. But the line that infuriated me the most was your final one—that your son ’chose to have relations with something that isn’t even human’? I’m a very direct pony, so I’m not going to mince words: If you look at a pony and all you can see is an animal, the problem is with you. If you can do that to your own son and only think about your poor suffering selves afterwards, the problem is with you. If you cannot see that love all too easily crosses the species boundary and is not wrong for it, THE PROBLEM IS WITH YOU. What is truly heartbreaking here is your own reaction and blaming of everyone except yourselves, and my heart goes out to your son and his chosen mate for it. I can only pray you’ll someday come to accept him and he finds it in himself to forgive you. Because right now I sure as Tartarus can’t. Having gotten that out of my system, I’d best move on to something a little less anger-inducing… Q: I know this might be a little backwards but, Five-star by chance would you be willing to train mares to come to earth and be… Mistresses for lonely virgin males? I’d say most mares need little training for that! No, that’s not fair. There are cultural differences in both directions, and just as humans need to understand us, mares need to understand the general human male mindset and what they find attractive. A Gentlemen reminds me upon reading that paragraph that humans aren’t any more monolithic than ponies; difficult cultures like different things and have different standards of beauty, some healthy and some not. Perhaps, but there does seem to be an obsession on the part of many males I’ve known with overly-skinny or ‘big-busted’’ women, for example. I don’t get the former, but I do get the latter—for an upright race, you’d want your assets displayed front and center where they can attract the most attention, and larger ones would naturally get more attention. And now, a question for one of my favorite Gentlemen, the same one who’s been reading over my shoulder for the past ten minutes: Q: To the Gentlemen: are your clients just clients, or do you ever form attachments to them? How about your trainers and handlers? And does it make your work more difficult or easier if you do? You would choose this for me, wouldn’t you? Personally, I like my regulars, and I get along well with new clients. It helps that most of them are pretty friendly. I don’t know how close I am to them, though. I am sure there’s some sort of separation between us, but that line can get blurry at times. One time, I was hired to be a NSR(*) escort for a client’s little sister. We spent the day watching human movies, mostly musicals as she loved music. The fact that she trusted me to look after a family member, trusted me enough to put her sister’s safety in my hands, was very humbling. Of course, it’s pretty different with other Gentlemen. I have a friend who prefers mares in heat. He likes to have very minimal attachment to his clients. I also have another friend who is regularly hanging out with clients because they share his passion for stunts and flights. As for trainers and handlers, well, that really depends. I have gotten along pretty well with my trainers, and my handler has been a very dependable friend. I probably feel more attached to them than most of my clients, probably because I see them almost everyday. — [call sign withheld] I think you’re being a little too modest, Mister Call-Sign-Withheld. You connect to your clients better than any Gentleman I’ve ever seen, and they love you for it—as do I! You have a gift that cannot be taught—that of simple empathy. It’s a talent for which you should be very proud. Oh, and for casual readers: (*) NSR means “Non-Sexual Request”—this is mostly used by clients who just want to experience a date with humans in a personal but platonic manner, and not in a bar scene like in G4M Headquarters. There are many reasons for this, but the usual one is that some clients simply aren’t ready to jump into bed with humans on a first date and prefer to test the proverbial waters first. We’ve had an instance where a mare tried four different Gentlemen this way before finally settling on one. Next, we’ve gotten several questions along the following lines: Q: Dear Five Stars—how often do non-pony clientele request a gentleman for the day? That is, e.g. griffons, diamond dogs, or maybe dragons? Q: Do you train gentlemen for other races? What works for a pony might not work for the others. We currently only train Gentlemen for ponies, though that now encompasses not just the standard earth ponies, unicorns and pegasi, but thestrels and zebras as well. There’s a lot of difference in attitude and anatomy just in those five subspecies, and it takes a while to master them all. Occasionally donkeys or mules will also request a Gentleman, but that’s unusual. You have to understand that other Tellus races generally have even gender ratios and thus much less need for such a service, both societally and culturally. Now, there have been some rare instances where Gentlemen were unknowingly hired by females of other races… and went through with it anyway. Is it to their credit that in such cases, our Gentlemen proved their adaptability, doing their best to perform and satisfy. Just last week, as a matter of fact, the former MMA fighter I told you about got hired out by a new client… who turned out to be an eagless working at the Gryphon Consulate here in Manehattan. She was apparently quite struck by the story of how he had stood up for a mare and bested a unicorn stallion, and wanted to have a ‘round’ with him so she could test his fighting ability and worthiness firstpaw. As for what happened… he came back clawed up but strangely happy, and she’s now trying to hire him again. So… it now appears we may have make some provision for other races as well! Q: To Five Stars: Any plans for a branch office on Earth? Or are there not enough mares there to be viable? I’d say there’s no need for such a thing, given all the available human males on earth! The biggest reason mares seem to stay over there is for that very reason… though I’ve heard more than a few also say that they’re too much into human technology and culture to come back now. Oddly enough, we do get a fair number of humans that settle here for the same reasons… a better life and more relationship opportunities. I’ve also heard some humans say that they’ve always wanted more ‘magic’ in their lives, and Equestria affords them the opportunity to have it. I guess the bottom line is that both worlds have things to offer that the other doesn’t, and perhaps we need some of what the other has. Q: To Miss Five Stars: Have you ever considered crossing the portal and live on the human world? Or at least visit it? Since you very much enjoy the company of humans, I imagine it might have crossed your mind in the past? Also do you plan on ever settling down? —Curious I would love to visit Terra, but I fear that would be very difficult right now due to all the press attention I’m getting. I think it’ll happen eventually, but probably not until some of the media interest blows over. I know I’d like to visit New York City to see Cayenne and meet the staff of the New York Life magazine, but that’s pretty much impossible right now. Maybe in a year or two. And would I ever settle down? In due time and with the right person—I’ve said before there are one or two Gentlemen I would definitely consider it with—I imagine I could. For now, though… I’m enjoying my life at G4M too much to give it up. And actually, that leads to this next question: Q: Do Gentlemen ever fall for their trainers or… ‘handlers’ I believe is the term? They do indeed, as our fine former and future Gentleman Postman shows. And it’s often a beautiful thing when it happens, love growing out of familiarity and friendship, becoming something more. To be sure, some handlers indulge in their Gentlemen even without a relationship—there are provisions for that in their employment contracts—but relationships or no, they all care very much about the Gentlemen in their charge. And speaking of which… here’s one question I’d love for a handler to answer. Take it away, Honey. Q: This is a less a question for Gentlemen than the stallions and mares who help them… Why do you work for Gentlemen for Mares? What do you get out of it, and how do you answer claims that you’re in the business of helping destroy herds and harmony? Every mare has their reasons for becoming a trainer or handler. For me it was the tremendous affection I felt for the men who, to this day, continue to unselfishly give themselves to the lonely mares who long only for a kind word and a gentle touch. As to what I get out of it? Well, I suppose the most rewarding part of being a handler of Gentlemen is that I get to work closely with five of the kindest, funniest, most wonderful men a mare could ever hope to know, unruly as they might be at times (yes, I’m talking to YOU, Mr. Chippendales!) As to the accusation of Gentlemen for Mares being in “the business of helping destroy herds and harmony?” I dare any pony to say that to the countless mares whose experiences with herds have been anything but harmonious. The way I see it, denouncing the agency for the love and tenderness it provides for these mares is no different than denouncing the charities that provide the orphaned foals of Equestria with soft beds to sleep in and warm food to fill their hungry bellies. The only difference is, we help lovelorn mares fill their hungry hearts. I am giving Five Stars permission to use my name, in a show of solidarity with our exposed Gentlemen… and to show that I am not ashamed of what I do in the least. —Honeydew Blossom Well-said, Honey. And I look forward to hearing more about your recent vacation! Here’s the answer to the same question from another Handler: Well, for me the answer is pretty complicated. When Platinum approached me on this, her selling point was that humans and ponies needed a little help in getting closer. Most humans had thought of us as nothing more than ‘clever’ animals, while a lot of ponies thought of humans as ‘dangerous and clever’ animals. It wasn’t an obvious thing, but even now, you can see ripples of those thoughts. I can’t speak for the humans, though it’s obvious why they’d think about us that way, but the pony view all came from the fact that humans, unlike any race from Tellus, have no inherent magic. It’s an old belief that magic was the sign that showed if an individual has a soul, something a lot of ponies still believe today. I was actually a believer of that thought until I had the privilege of studying human cultures and histories during the ‘First Contact’ as it was called. It opened my eyes. Platinum’s plan was pretty simple. Ponies have an overarching culture of friendship, and in a way, intimacy. Her first idea was more of random meet-ups, getting-to-know-each-other type of encounters. The plan was a tried and true procedure of exposing both races with each other. Then, as everyone knows, Lyra came out in the open, declaring publicly her relationship with her human boyfriend. That gave her the idea to revive an old business, using humans instead of stallions. After all, if both can enjoy each other’s company in bed, both can enjoy each other’s company out of it. Her words, not mine. To be fair, the initial G4M was more intimate than what we have present, but that changed when in-heat customers discovered the joys of zero-risk sex. It still is a solid idea, something I can stand with. I want ponies and humans to get along, and I think this is one of the best ways to do it. I can however sympathize with those that think this is harming the herd, and apparently, harming Harmony. Herd Family was ingrained in our culture to help our numbers recover after our war with the Gryphon Kingdom. The loss of the majority of our pegasi stallions took a heavy toll on our gender ratio. However, as the years passed, herd culture became inexplicably tied to Harmony. No one seemed to realize that herd formation was nothing more than a delaying plan of action. Harmony was born when the three pony races united to serve the common good, when we learned that our squabbles left us cold and hungry. To put simply, it is the strength of the bonds we create. Friendship is magic, as they say. The idea that Harmony flows from a Perfect Herd is fiction, because there is no such thing as a Perfect Herd. We have countless cases where a mare is dissatisfied with their herds, and those are not even the worst example of the by-products of the herd culture. Misborn hate is something that would have never existed, yet it does. G4M—or if I may cut to the bone of the issue, humans are not destroying Harmony, or even Herds. The problems we’re seeing had always been there. And now we have someone else, a new race with no inherent magic, to blame for our shortcomings. You’ll forgive me for signing my response with an alias. I do so not out of shame, but simply because I prefer my privacy. —“Evening Rain” Thank you for answering, “Eve”. Very well-written and thoughtful, touching on a lot of points I haven’t even made yet. I know we don’t always get along, but I really do respect you. Q: I’m curious… what happened to that colt-cuddler who wanted to know if he could hire a Gentleman in the first Q&A session? Ah yes. In the end, he and other stallions like him (word apparently got around) have been handled off-the-books by a small but select group of willing Gentlemen. After talking it over, we made the determination that for the time being we do not accept stallion clients at G4M. But what Gentlemen do on their own time is their own business… I can’t officially comment on this since their actions are not officially endorsed by the company. But unofficially, I will simply note that gay stallions can be just as lonely as mares, and I think what these Gentlemen do for them on their own time and dime is very generous and noble. Q: How are Gentlemen trained? A perfect date is hard to accomplish, so how do the ladies teach the men to act in a public setting before they actually go on a date? Does the company have fake dining rooms for couples to practice in, complete with chefs that make meals to teach Gentlemen what’s normal dining when with a mare? Well, I couldn’t say that much about our training methods previously—trade secrets and all. But after talking it over with Platinum, I’ve been granted permission to do so: It surprises many prospective Gentlemen to discover that most of their initial training takes place not in the bedroom, but in a classroom and gym. We put each recruit through an eight-week ‘boot camp’—another human term we’ve borrowed—that consists of a lot of physical conditioning alternating with classroom instruction—anatomy, sociology, and various etiquette courses, including normal dating and dining habits. Strength and stamina are prerequisites for any human that wishes to wear the title of Gentleman, as are extensive knowledge of Equestrian social norms and customs. I would go so far as to say that the latter are in fact more important than lovemaking ability, since they serve to set the scene and provide the environment and foreplay so many mares crave. That said, we do put our new Gentlemen through a few ‘mock dates’ at our own establishments where trainers play the roles of difficult or needy clients. That requires a certain mindset on the part of Gentlemen and trainer alike, and this is one of the few G4M jobs I don’t do—simply because I find it very hard to be deliberately mean or snooty to a man; especially one who’s only trying to attend me. We do get a few washouts, some may be surprised to hear. We’re better about this now, but occasionally we encounter a prospective gentlemen who is lazy and inattentive, or only interested in ‘getting laid’ as opposed to doing their job. That’s not what we’re about, and any potential Gentlemen who shows such proclivities doesn’t make it in the company or with clients. I think I know exactly the Gentleman to answer the next question as well: Q: A question for Gentlemen: are mares as kinky as some women are? Like, Fifty Shades of Grey kinky? What’s the most unusual request you’ve ever had? And did you find it at all uncomfortable? Having been company to women and mares alike, I feel comfortable in saying that there is little that separates our two races in our desires. The need in a mare’s eyes are indistinguishable from that of a woman, no matter what country that woman may call home. That said, Equestria’s mares have their own unique ideas of what is taboo which leads to awkward and somewhat questionable requests—like hunter-on-prey. I can’t say too much as to identify my client, but roleplaying an encounter in which the mare is powerless is something I have had to struggle to overcome. It’s not in my nature to take advantage of the weak, but to use my strength to protect others. In the end, I reminded myself that while my culture has conditioned me to act a certain way, I am fulfilling the needs of my client and doing so in a way where she is still in control. She was very happy with how she was treated, and relieved to have been able to enjoy a fantasy she had been having for a long time. Being sensitive to the needs of the client is a big part of what being a gentleman is all about, and overcoming self-imposed limitations—in this case my own social mores—is a big part of why I do what I do. I’ve never turned down a challenge or a chance to improve myself, and consider it my purpose in life to help others do the same. —“Stuntman” Very good answer, Stuntman. Have to say, you’re certainly among the most adventurous of our Gentlemen, though considering your proclivity for danger and fun, that’s to the occasional chagrin of your handler… and me. And saving what I think is the biggest question for last… Q: This question is for the founder of Gentlemen for Mares herself, Platinum Corona: How did you come up with the idea of G4M? Are you a client yourself? And why is it you rarely give interviews or are seen outside of Manehattan? Well, then. Guess I couldn’t escape scrutiny forever! Though I would prefer to let Five Stars tell the story of how G4M was eventually founded, I will say this: as “Eve” touched on, I saw early on the promise and potential of humanity to help solve the shortage of stallions and lack of male love too many mares experience. As for where I got the idea, I would simply say I was there to see the first relationships between men and mare blossom, and when I saw the results firsthoof for myself, I realized that this would be something that could eventually benefit both species. As to myself… no, I am not a client. It would simply not do for me to indulge in the Gentlemen of my own escort service. For the record, I do have a life outside of G4M, but it is one I prefer to keep secret, both for my own sake and the sake of my loved ones. Over the years I’ve been called everything from a corrupter of ponies to a destroyer of harmony, but the truth is that I am nothing more than a pony with a desire to help others find love, and founding Gentlemen for Mares was one of the ways I’ve chosen to do that. Believe me, it was not a decision I made lightly, and there were more than a few hiccups along the way, especially early on. But I do not regret forming G4M, or the role I have played in bringing male company and contentment to many a lonely mare. I am happy to say that I’m in fact stunned by our success, and I thank Five Stars from the bottom of my heart for the attention, acceptance and popularity she has brought us. Thank you, Platinum. But I can’t take all or even most of the responsibility for this. It was you who founded the company, you who recruited me, you who selected me to write these articles, and you who stood by them when things looked bleak. I thank you again from the bottom of my own heart for the opportunity you gave me, both with these articles and the second chance you brought me so long ago. You gave my life new purpose when I had just about given up on it, and I will never forget it as long as I live. And with that… it’s time to bring down the curtain on the second act of my story. The third one, containing the stories of my final herds, the coming of humanity and the founding of G4M will not begin right away, but instead will wait a few weeks while I take my second break. As for what I’m planning to do… with any luck, this time nopony will know until after the fact. Until then, thanks again for all the questions, and the continued interest in my story and that of Gentlemen for Mares. I had no idea when I started this series how much fame it would bring me and the company I work for. It is, as Platinum says, a mixed blessing, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying the attention. Not much else to say, except… until next time, dear readers! > Part 17: A Royal Visitation > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – A Royal Visitation By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post Magazines October 5 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: Dear readers—in the four weeks since our last article, we have fought fresh legal battles regarding our online content, with new lawsuits launched against us and our ISPs to try to force them to pull us down… not under obscenity statutes this time, but for engaging in ‘hate speech’, the logic seeming to be that we’re somehow encouraging the ‘objectification’ of females and by strange logical leap the promotion of ‘rape culture’ under the grounds that Equestrian mares can’t truly consent to being taken by a human man. So our enemies have now enlisted the help of the so-called social justice movement to help their cause. Pathetic and insulting though their arguments are, it is far cry from the physical threats we were enduring before, but still annoying and sapping our time. Kalido, I’m sorry to say, has gone on sabbatical, crossing the portal entirely to escape the heavy pressure she’s been under for months. As she is being taken care of by our Equestrian counterparts at the Manehattan Post, we wish her nothing but the best, and want to let her know we are keeping her in our thoughts. Our legal fees, though enormous and still growing, have been heavily defrayed by all our sales and online donations. I am pleased to report that we have also picked up a pair of powerful new patrons, one human and one pony. On this side of the portal, we have gained the favor of the Free Speech Defense Fund and media mogul Robert Morton, who has made a very generous donation to our pension and health care funds, and filed amicus court briefs in support of our rights of free speech and expression. As to the pony, we have gained the favor of no less than Equestrian Prince Blueblood, who as all are now aware came to America on a royal visit and made a point of coming to Manhattan and publicly touring our print offices, to our great surprise and the apparent consternation of his handlers. Though his reputation was somewhat stuffy, we found him very knowledgeable and even charming, and very happily granted his request to pen an op-ed for us that will be shared at end of this article. We were also very surprised when, at the end of his tour, he went outside to challenge the protesters who had gathered in advance of his visit, having no qualms about getting in the face of the group leader, a college professor, to ask her if, by the same logic she was employing, he was being raped every time he made love to a human woman, particularly given Equestria’s reversed gender roles. And when told that, being a pony, he would ‘fuck me or anything else that moved’, he stuck up his nose and said a line that brought down the house, a line that has now gone viral in social media and video sites across the planet: “My dear woman, you needn’t worry about suffering my charms. I have high standards for both beauty and brains, and be assured you meet neither.” His support is welcomed, as is his willingness to say it like it is. If more people would stand up against such ridiculous and backwards reasoning only too prevalent in certain quarters, the anything-but-social justice crowd would have no legs to stand on. And Kalido? I know you won’t approve of my tone with this note, but I’m sorry… I’ve lived here my whole life, and it’s not in my New York nature to hold my tongue. I speak for all present when I say I’ve had enough of this shit, and I will punch back. —Jamie Kason, acting chief editor, New York Life magazine Manehattan Post Owner’s Note: To Jamie and the staff of the New York Life magazine, and all our readers: Kalido has arrived in Equestria safe and sound, if still a bit disoriented from her trip. Be assured we will take good care of her, and we will show her all the hospitality that was shown me on my recent trip to New York. On that front, I wish I had better news to report, but my Gentleman remains missing, seemingly vanished without a trace. I am very worried about him, and starting to suspect some form of foul play. Though I have reluctantly returned to work, my investigations remain ongoing. Be assured, I will find him. And as for the newest crop of idiots now accosting our compatriots across the portal, know that the Prince was far more polite to you than I would be… but I’m glad it WAS him, as I would never have been able to state my opinion so bitingly yet so eloquently. —Hot Topic, owner and founder, Manehattan Post magazine Dear readers: I’m back! And as it happens, the New York Life was not the only place to receive a royal visitation over the past few weeks. Here in Equestria, both the offices of the Manehattan Post and G4M itself were toured by no less than our Princess of Friendship, Twilight Sparkle! How she came to visit is an interesting story in and of itself, and has to do with my own activities over the article hiatus. Tabloid speculation was running rampant about my plans, and all were incorrect, variously reporting me in Neighagra, Las Pegasus, Appleloosa and even Fillydelphia. I’m free to say now we resorted to a little misdirection, using a magically disguised body double (thanks for volunteering, Honey!), her public appearances in those cities attracting the bulk of the press. We even sent my griffin bodyguards with her (over their dead bodies) while I, wearing my own disguise… headed for a weeklong vacation in the Crystal Kingdom, courtesy of Platinum. I really wasn’t happy to have to resort to a magical disguise of my own, or put my coworkers through all these hoops just so I could have some privacy to safely meet with old friends. But it was worth it, for whom I would be meeting. For arranged by secret correspondence and careful planning was a reunion of my third herd. Everypony made it over a period of two or three days, arriving variously by train, airship, or chariot. I was there first and doing some solo sightseeing when Juniper arrived. She greeted me with a flying tackle, giving me a heartfelt hug and kiss, having instantly spotted me despite my disguise. I was happy to see her, but how did she recognize me? “I never forget a flank, Five Stars!” she told me with a grin, giving me an affectionate hoof noogie before checking herself into the hotel and heading out with me again. After a little more sightseeing, we ate dinner and shared a mug of crystal cider in a local restaurant while catching up with each other. When dusk fell, we headed out in search for some nightlife, finding it in the form of the newly opened Emerald Isle crewed by the Crystal Ponies (glittery!), an open-air club sitting out under the always aurora-filled and beautiful northern sky. To little surprise, Juniper appeared to be determined to make the acquaintance of at least one crystal pony before she left, chatting up the bartender while I did the same with a couple human tourists, my identity concealed behind a disguise I will not describe. It was an odd feeling for me, looking to bed a man without the intention of recruiting them, though I admit I did cast an appraising eye over the sparkling city of the north, wondering if it would be worth it to open a G4M branch office there. The Crystal Kingdom has become not only a bulwark against the windigos and other ice creatures that inhabit the northern wastes, but it’s also quite the resort destination now. The Equestria Games were held there a few years back, and the place has also become famous for its history and culture… and of course the crystal ponies themselves. In fact, I could feel the very potent magic of the Crystal Kingdom in the air as soon as I stepped off the train. Calming and soothing yet somehow invigorating, its familiar feel evoked very strong—and pleasant!—flashbacks to that night… The running joke among Gentlemen regarding that story is that me and my herdmates got high on “Crystal Heart Meth.” I really don’t get it, but the presence of that magic and the memories it sparked is probably why Juniper and I tried to bed someone right off the bat. I’m sad to say I didn’t, recognizing the two men I chatted up weren’t quite ready for that, but I assume Juniper did get it on with that bartender mare she left with. Never been with a crystal pony, of course, though I do have to wonder what sex would actually be like with a pony that’s see-through! The next day, the others arrived—Red Pepper and Sea Salt, followed by Sweet Tea. We must have just stayed on that platform for ten minutes just hugging before heading off into the city. I don’t know how, but Platinum had arranged a VIP tour of the castle for us, the location of the climactic battle between the Element Bearers and the now-vanquished King Sombra. And the highlight of the tour, of course… was the Crystal Heart itself, the very thing that saved our friendships, if not, in the end, our herd. We had our picture taken in front of it. I can’t show it for obvious reasons, but it’s got a special place of honor in my home. We shared a luxury suite, and it was the first time we’d shared the same space since our herd broke up. It was like old times—Red Pepper and Sea Salt cooked, Sweet Tea (who slowly loosened up in such unfamiliar environs) played barmare… and Juniper played the class clown, making us laugh and taking a slightly drunken pass at me later in our stay, though this time she didn’t get me. The rest of our time together was spent exploring the rest of the city—between the museums, the library, the shows and the castle, there was plenty to see and do—just generally catching up, and even heading outside of city limits to try our hooves at one of the ski resorts that had opened in the surrounding mountains. All in all, a wonderful stay, and a renewing of our bonds. Life has taken us in different directions, of course, but our friendships remain… and we have the Crystal Kingdom and Heart to thank for it. We parted with some tears and promises to stay in touch, find ways to get up more often. And after that… I had one more old friend to see. It’s a Small World After All… I apologize for never mentioning this, but I’ve been holding out on readers. In fact, I have been in touch with another past lover for some time time, but after seeing what happened with Braeburn and Cayenne, I elected not to reveal our correspondence given her home has been rather unfriendly towards Gentleman in the recent past. Now, however… I’d like my readers to know that I was finally reunited with my dentist friend from that long-ago Hearth’s Warming in Las Pegasus! She saw my articles and wrote me about four months ago, to my shock and delight, and we arranged to meet up in the village of Hollow Shades on my way back from the Crystal Kingdom, away from prying eyes in the dark of the Equestria’s premiere all-thestral enclave. I cannot reveal her identity, even now, but we kissed and caught up over dinner before heading back to her room for a nightcap. I half-thought we were going to rekindle our oh-so-brief relationship, and after a few drinks I can’t say I wasn’t amenable to the idea. But she started acting a bit oddly, getting coy and giggly when she said had something to show me back in her room. And when we arrived, she revealed to me a surprise guest who had accompanied her, in a magical disguise of her own… PRINCESS TWILIGHT!!!!! Needless to say, my jaw hit the floor along with my knee when our Princess of Friendship dropped her thestral disguise and revealed herself, flaring her wings before me. For a moment I panicked, certain if she was here I was somehow in trouble with the crown itself, but she immediately put me at ease and said she “couldn’t wait to meet me”—that she had “SO many questions!” about my job, my life, and the Gentlemen I helped train. Would I be willing to answer them? “For the sake of my friendship studies, of course!” What could I say except yes? And as to how she had come to be there… would you believe my dentist friend knew the princess from long before she ascended, and had shared our secret with her? “I’m sorry, Five Stars. But it felt like I would burst if I didn’t tell somepony…” she informed me apologetically, the princess herself adding that she had wanted to meet me and “know more about G4M” for some time. Small world, isn’t it? I answered all her questions as best as I could. To my surprise, my royal visitor seemed genuinely interested in our work, the ponies we helped and in particular “the strong friendships we had formed”, not just with our clients but with each other. In the end, I invited her to Manehattan to see our headquarters firsthoof, and she took me up on that offer quickly… As in, immediately! I had to make a hasty phone call to Platinum, of course, but I ended up escorting our VIP guest in personally the next morning… to the shock of everyone there. She toured our facilities, sat in on a couple culture and etiquette classes for new Gentlemen, interviewed everyone from Gentlemen to handlers and trainers and even took time to pose for pictures and sign autographs. And at the end of the day… I can only describe her mood as thoughtful as she thanked me for my assistance and hospitality, walked out by Platinum Corona herself. Those two apparently had a lot to talk about as well, as they spent the better part of an hour chatting privately in her office. As everypony knows, her visit was front page news the next day, and I got my picture taken with her. For all the neighsaying and outright abuse we’ve taken over the past few months, it’s nice to receive royal recognition and know we have some powerful friends out there. (And before anyone asks, no, she did NOT seek to avail herself of our services!) * * * * * Before I resume my life’s story, one more comment. I see our opponents on earth have changed tactics, using a new and even more insulting argument that ponies are somehow incapable of giving consent and tucking them equates to raping them. I can give no better answer to that than our esteemed Prince did, so I will not dignify their arguments by addressing them further except to say that whatever world these people live in, it’s neither Equestria nor Earth. Old Friends, New Herds Upon my departure from Baltimare, I had been expecting to undergo my usual progression of emotions after losing or leaving a herd—numbness and brooding followed by self-doubt and eventual depression. But a single letter from Las Pegasus turned that all on its head. Willow and Snow Lily had just announced their engagement to Aces Up and Double Down, and thus my emotions instead ran the gamut from shock and disbelief to fear and anger. I dropped everything I was doing to write an immediate letter asking them in pointed and barely polite terms if they’d lost their bucking minds—they KNEW what the pair had done to me; I’d told them in exacting detail during our brief meeting in Canterlot after departing Las Pegasus, when they’d just left Cayenne’s herd and were coming west to take my place. It wasn’t like I could send them a letter while traveling; I’d have to wait for the next stop which wasn’t for many hours. So I ended up pacing back and forth in the car muttering to myself, probably leaving doubts about my sanity to the other train passengers. It was just as well—as the saying goes, act in haste, repent at leisure. When I’d finally cooled off a bit, I looked at their letter again and discovered there several things I hadn’t read yet—aside from their engagement announcement, there were personal notes from each of them saying basically “yes, we know how you must feel, but we’re not crazy!” going on to detail how they’d met the boys and how they’d finally won them. “They courted us, and they told us what happened with you even before they knew we were your friends or that we already knew the story,” Willow explained, saying she and Snow Lily finally felt ready to join a new herd, and this was the one they had chosen. “They didn’t want that hanging over our heads, so they told us right away and asked for the chance to prove they’d changed. They’ve been perfect Gentlecolts, the interest is mutual, and don’t think me and Willow can’t spot insincere stallions for as long as we’ve been in this town!” Lily added, anticipating my next objection. It was followed up by a private note from Rising Star, saying that the boys had indeed changed their outlook and attitude, and had worked hard to earn her trust again since leaving prison a year earlier, regaining their old posts. “What happened to you will not happen again, Five Stars,” she promised me, asking if I would come to Las Pegasus to attend the official ceremony, if only for the sake of my friends. It took the rest of the trip to Canterlot before I settled on a reply, crumpling up several half-written missives and starting over repeatedly before finally deciding what to say. My all-too-terse answer was simply that I wished them well, but I would not come—that after what they’d done to me, I simply could not in good conscience give their union my blessing, and having just lost another herd, the last place I needed to go was Las Pegasus, where the pain of my second herd and my honeymoon horror story would come flooding back. And in the end, all I would say to the boys was… I would take Rising Star at her word, but they had best remember for all time what they’d done to me. For if they hurt my friends they same way they had me, I swore to them I would do something very… disharmonious. Fortunately, that oath was never tested. Their herd has endured, and given my two friends have already had a foal each with the pair and another on the way… a little late, perhaps, but I can indeed give their union my blessing now. And I guess there’s really no point in hiding their names either, since the tabloids were all over us anyway during my earlier visit. They already gave permission for me to share their names during my stay. So… to my beloved friends and former herdmates, star singer Ember Iris and world-class masseuse and potion maker Acacia Frost (aka Willow and Snow Lily)… I’m very happy for you both. Successful herd, fine stallions, thriving careers and motherhood… you two really do have it all! Despite my new life and enjoyment of it, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit envious. A Capitol Time I arrived in Canterlot a day later after a rather sleepless night on a train bench. I’d visited the Equestrian capital city before, certainly, but never spent real time there. So what possessed me to try to start over there? Even now, I’m still not sure, except that it was about as far as I could get from the locations of my three previous herds, short of going overseas to the Gryphon Kingdom (and there were a couple times the thought crossed my mind!) Being the Equestrian capital and having a huge hospitality industry of its own for everything to tourists to foreign diplomats, there was plenty of work that could be found there, and I had the pedigree ponies there usually looked for given my work at high-end hotels in Manehattan and Las Pegasus. And yet… I found I didn’t want to go back to that kind of life again. Yes, the hospitality industry was steady work, but I needed something different this time. So I marketed my business experience instead, having put together conventions and gotten a new Bed & Breakfast off the ground, and within a few weeks… I’d landed a job as business manager and personal assistant for a court entertainer, a singer whose voice and talents could give Ember a run. Her name was Delta Requiem, a pegasus mare who was also Bard of the Royal Court—a very prestigious post. Understand, I had no interest in being a toady for the typical Canterlot celebrity, and turned down job offers for two others just because I found them too snooty even by Canterlot standards (and believe me, that IS saying a lot!) Delta, by contrast, seemed far more grounded and interested in my past, expressing sympathy for my herd trevails. And she had earned her post as well—her singing was said to be magical, sometimes quite literally, and she was a favorite of Princess Celestia herself. Much to my surprise, we hit it off quite well during the initial interview, and she came back to me a week later saying the job was mine if I wanted it. Needing the work and distraction, I eagerly accepted, still trying to get over my last herd and my friends’ engagement announcement. Before that, I’d been staying in an outlying inn and working as a barmare in the meantime, drawing on my Las Pegasus experience and what I’d picked up over time from Sweet Tea. One thing I learned from that—your own troubles tend to pale in comparison to what ponies will share with you over a bar counter and a mug of apple ale. Some of what I heard certainly put mine in perspective… Once I was salaried, I quit my inn job, left my room there and got a small apartment further in the city, near the exclusive fashion district. It was a place where all ponies are attired and keep their noses in the air, a place where your status is determined by your family name and those you know… by the parties you get invited to and whether you’ve met a Princess or not. I come from an upper-class upbringing, but that doesn’t mean you have to turn out that way. Pretentious doesn’t even begin to describe the place at times. Don’t get me wrong, the city has its charms and plenty of good ponies, but it’s also got way too many who’ll judge you by the label of your clothes or knowledge of the latest fashion trends. Even before the arrival of humanity, it was the one place in Equestria where wearing clothes was somehow a status symbol, something I’ve never understood. * * * * * I began settling into my new job slowly. Being a personal business manager was a new experience for me, and one that required both charm and tact, being able to juggle the needs of both my client and her venues. These were qualities I thought I had in abundance from many years as a concierge, but I quickly found my skills and patience tried, not by Delta so much as those she worked with. From arrogant nobles to snobbish celebrities, she attracted more than her share of sycophants, and had just as little use for them as I did. I had to be polite to potential clients, but she did not, and it was a joy to see her speak her mind and dress certain ponies down. It might have been the kiss of death for any other entertainer, but she had the favor of the princess, so she could get away with it. There were times she was more than a mere singer as well. She often accompanied diplomatic missions and performed for foreign leaders, and as luck would have it, just two months after I started my job with her, I was asked to arrange a goodwill tour for her of the Gryphon Kingdom, in the company of no less than our Princess of Love, Mi Amore Cadenza, and her husband, now-Prince Shining Armor. Despite the chance to meet some actual royalty—I had always been in a little awe of the two after the Changeling invasion—I had thoroughly mixed feelings about the trip. For as well-traveled as I was, I’d never been outside of Equestrian borders to that point and had never even known a griffin. To be sure, I’d certainly seen or spoken to a few over the years, in Manehattan and Las Pegasus, and my general impressions of them were not that good—they were meat-eaters and generally rowdy guests, and their militaristic culture had never sat well with me. Ponies had fought a bloody war with them some seven hundred years past, after all, and you wondered how far removed from that time they really were given they still retained a large standing military long after Equestria no longer did. Nevertheless, I had a job to do, and I was professional enough to not let my personal feelings interfere. In some ways, it wasn’t any different than usual. I had to arrange transportation, accommodations, security… What was different was that in order to do these things, I had to work with a griffin liaison and attache. I am sorry to cut the story short here, but… I need to emotionally ready myself to tell what happened next, a brief but very important chapter in my life. Until then… I do have one letter to share, and a very unexpected one at that! Less a letter than a statement of support, Prince Blueblood asked the owners of the New York Life magazine if he could pen an op-ed to run with this article, and after his grand gesture and willingness to stand up for them personally, that request was very happily granted. Despite my time in Canterlot, I have never seen or met the good Prince, though I’ve certainly known his reputation as an avid enthusiast of human cinema and culture… to say nothing of his becoming one of humanity’s most vocal proponents. I am honored by his support, and the statement that follows: To the readers of this fine and unfairly besieged publication, human and pony alike: I am Prince Blueblood of Equestria, third in line to the royal throne. A position I have no chance of ever gaining giving our ageless rulers, but one I have become quite content with. When the portal opened now nearly six years ago, I thought that humans were barbaric, backwards brutes unworthy of association or favor. A race without magic was a race without redeem in my eyes, and if I had my way back then, the portal would have been sealed up immediately, never to reopen again. Thankfully, wiser counsel than mine prevailed, and I am most happy they did. The coming of humanity has been a great boon to my world, my nation, and most certainly myself. As one of the stallions that Miss Five Stars has had such a bad time with over the years, I can sympathize with her plight. For in truth, I WAS one of those arrogant, neglectful stallions she described, one who gave little thought to his partners beyond his own needs… as at least one former letter-writer and current G4M client can attest. I went through lovers and herd mares quickly, and if one left me, what did it matter? For there were plenty of others eager to know the company and favor of a prince such as myself. But no longer am I that way; no longer do I treat mares and mates as disposable. What changed me? Humanity. Over time, I have come to delight in this world, its marvelous and even magical technology, its cinema and cultures, its people, and yes, its women, whom I have found alternately bewitching and vexing, with charms most mares do not possess. If that makes me an anthrophile as some fellow nobles have so derogatively called me, then so be it. It is no secret I have taken human lovers, nor that I have had any shortage of willing women. That much is unchanged from my pre-portal days, a product of my station and, I daresay, looks. No, I am not humble, but I have BEEN humbled by my experiences here over the years, both in the bedroom and out. In my considerable arrogance, I believed upon first arrival that my culture was preeminent, presuming that pony magic far surpassed any human technology, also assuming that human women were little different than Equestrian mares and could be treated the same way. Needless to say, I was disabused of both notions rather quickly, and my first few encounters with women were enormously frustrating failures, to put it mildly. But this was for the best. Miss Five Stars has stated more than once that stallions can learn some things about proper treatment of mares from human men, and she is correct… for that is exactly what happened with me. My ego bruised along with body (as I was struck or kicked more than once for severe rudeness), I quickly learned that in order to enjoy the company of human women, I had to behave more like human men—in other words, I had to learn how to court, learn how to not only present myself well, but how to treat my partners properly, give them as much attention as they would give me. The result has been far more rewarding relationships, for both me and my lovers alike. It was not an instant process, needless to say. It forced me to take a long, hard look at myself and see my very real failings as both a prince and pony. Humanity did indeed hold a mirror up to me, and I did not like what I saw in it. But in time, I changed myself and now find myself with much more to offer a mate, far more enjoying my lovers, both mare and woman for it… and them me. I do not know if I could ever truly settle down, something I make quite clear to all my potential lovers now, but the one thing I can promise them is that should we be together, they will remember our time well. Some may read this and find me as arrogant or boastful as ever. I care not. Humanity changed me, much as it has changed and is continuing to change ponydom. And these changes are good ones—I have become a better prince and pony for my many visits to Earth, the many people I have met… and yes, the many women I have been with. Our races are most certainly compatible, and for anyone on either side of the portal to suggest otherwise on the most flimsy and false of rationales… well, THEY are the ones unworthy of association or favor, and I urge all reading to give them the shunning they so richly deserve. For these reasons and more, the works of Miss Five Stars and her esteemed Gentlemen are necessary, and their story is one that should indeed be told. I commend Miss Five Stars for her articles and reflect once again upon my own journey from conceited noble to humanity’s greatest champion for it. Signed, Blueblood, First Prince of Equestria I thank you for your kind words, Prince, and willingness to stand up for our new friends. Your outlook is certainly different than most! But I am gratified that you were able to change, and humanity was the catalyst for that change… as they has been for myself and so many others. And for myself, I would like to thank all our readers again, both human and pony for standing by the articles and supporting their publication. These would not have gone on for anywhere near as long as they had if there wasn’t such a good response to them. I also never dreamed when I started writing these that they would reunite me with so many past friends and lovers, renewing old friendships and in at least one case, relationships. Well, the article complete, it’s time for me to start tackling the mountain of fan and hate mail that accumulated in my absence again. Until next time, take care, dear readers! > Part 18: A Diplomatic Affair > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – A Diplomatic Affair By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post Magazines October 12 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: We at the New York Life would like to once again express our gratitude for the support we’ve received from some surprising quarters, both human and Equestrian. The good Prince Blueblood followed up his visit and editorial with a catered affair for magazine staff at a local resort—a chance to cut loose we all sorely needed—and then threw an impromptu press conference on our front step where he did not back down from his support for us, answering several snarky questions that seemed to be more about sound bites than journalistic objectivity with his usual sharp wit and more than a few pointed putdowns that had us all cheering. In this age of political correctness and fear of giving offense, it’s rather refreshing to see anyone, person or pony, turning their nose up at this nonsense to say nothing of outright flouting it. And to our latest opponents, who seem to think themselves hip because they can write 144-character putdowns on twitter… unlike you, we can accept a difference of opinion without seeking to silence you for it. Unlike you, we can take a few mean words and don’t need to hide in safe rooms or require trigger warnings to be protected from it. These are not your college cocoons; this is the real world, and you’re not getting your way just because your feelings were hurt or think you’re on some great social crusade to right a grave injustice. Trust me, you’re not. And speaking for myself, I’d be very leery of hiring any new college graduates right now, simply because far too many completely lack critical thinking skills and are obviously not equipped to deal with the real world. —Jamie Kason, acting chief editor, New York Life magazine Manehattan Post Owner’s Note: I have to say, In some ways, I’m more revolted by this behavior than the more overt harassment of the HERD crowd. It’s amazing how the very people who claim to be ‘enlightened’ or ‘tolerant’ are invariably anything but, thin-skinned bullies unable to accept any other viewpoint than their own and attacking anything that strays from their precious orthodoxy. If this is what higher human education is teaching, then I can’t fathom how any parent would spend so many bits on it. Kalido assures me that most colleges and students are NOT like that, that these are just particularly vocal ones who have sway. Be that as it may, the only reason they have sway is that they’ve been indulged, pampered and coddled for far too long, not challenged on their hypocrisy or exposed to alternate viewpoints as they should be. Unlike Jamie, I would hire a few of them… if only to make them face the real world. —Hot Topic, owner and founder, Manehattan Post magazine Dear readers— I expected this week’s article was going to be a difficult one for me, for the tale I would tell. I did not expect it would be for one of the letters I was to receive, a letter which has rocked me to my core. I have gone through the mountain of mail again that has followed the last Q&A session, and picked out several worth sharing… but only one will be shared today. For the record, the ratio of fan to hate mail continues to be a bit better than two to one. It’s been pretty much steady the whole way through these articles, with the exception of the time surrounding the HERD harassment, when there were several orchestrated hate mail campaigns against me. I know they were orchestrated because I got a slew of form letters all saying the same thing. Needless to say, those went right in the garbage unread, along with anything that wasn’t signed. This time, however, I’m getting a surprising number of letters from self-described ‘feminists’ and ‘Social Justice Warriors’ calling me every name in the book, bandying around terms I’d never even heard before like accusing me of ‘multiple microaggressions’ and ‘promoting patriarchy and male privilege’, not ‘understanding the ongoing struggle for gender equality’ that my encouraging men to be with mares is somehow undermining. My requests to gentlemen to explain these terms were met with eyerolls and derisive laughter, and their explanations would have had me laughing as well except they’re apparently taken all too seriously. It’s funny, but I thought higher education was a place where you learned how to think critically, not to parrot slogans and spout nonsense phrases that even a moment’s thought should tell you are ridiculous. Well, sorry to disappoint, but I couldn’t care less if I’m offending people. Princess Celestia herself noted there is no right to not be offended, and that applies no matter the reason for the offense. I’ve never shied away from speaking my mind and telling my story, and I’m sure as Tartarus not going to stop now because some groups say I’m undermining a vision of “gender equality” that seems to be anything but. I have enough to deal with this week without getting into that as well, both for the story I’m going to tell and the letter I’m about to share. It’s long, but I now present it in full, with minimal redactions—a letter from Autumn Leaf, who readers may remember as the lead mare of my first herd: Dear Five Stars, It’s [Autumn Leaf]. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? I’m well aware there’s little love lost between the two of us and you probably weren’t expecting to hear from me. But I believe we’re both aware now of who was truly at fault for what happened to our herd… and I’m not talking about Discord. Let me get right to the point and say I’ve been forced to do some soul-searching recently, and I don’t like what I’ve found. Looking back on our herd days, the warning signs were all there, I realize that now. The first was when you returned Cayenne’s feather. I confess that, at the time, I didn’t really care, since it meant I could focus on him more… which, in reality, meant forcing him to focus on me. The next warning sign came later, when Acacia and Ember abandoned the herd. Again, I wasn’t terribly concerned, and I thought that this meant Cayenne would begin to fully recover from his booster overuse, and I intended to help him every step of the way. And by ‘help’ I mean… well, I think you can guess, Five Stars, given your glowing description of what your first experience with him was like! But those nights after Ember and Acacia left… he wasn’t the same. He was far less passionate, more perfunctory than anything. I didn’t understand. I tried everything to excite him, but nothing seemed to work. And outside of the bedroom, he was rather listless towards me… at least at first. Over time, listlessness gave way to surliness. I didn’t know why, but I managed to convince myself it was booster withdrawal and he would be his old self again in due time. That illusion was thoroughly shattered when he confronted me one day and snatched his feather right out of my mane. I was, understandably, startled by this, and again by what he said to me immediately after. He said I was the reason you, Ember, and Acacia had all left. He said that my abuse of my position of lead mare had collapsed the herd. And he said that he was leaving me, for good. You already know from Cayenne’s letter how I responded. Indeed, I told him he would never work in Manehattan again. That wasn’t all I said to him by a long shot, but I won’t repeat the rest here. I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one lifetime, after all. After Cayenne left, I hired a new chef and put the whole business out of my mind. Business for the Shemareaton continued on as normal, as did my own life, although I had to resort to a cooler when my bi-annual ‘visitor’ came along… and, I’m sad to say, an occasional comfort horse, since no stallion seemed interested in me at all. I entertained thoughts of joining another herd, but never indulged them because, for reasons I was still blind to; I was about the last mare anypony would want to mate or marry. Never did try any human men, but I ended up implementing a strict policy against employees seeing them… which was roundly ignored, like so many other of my edicts over the years. It was then, sometime around last spring, business began to slip. I wasn’t terribly concerned at first, but when weeks went by and the hotel’s profits continued to shrink, I started investigating. To my surprise, several regulars of the Shemareaton, ponies who would avail themselves of our services—if not a room—on a normal basis had suddenly stopped showing up. And more such regulars were disappearing from our books by the week, with some longtime employees quickly following, turning in their resignations without any explanation or notice. Sealed in my office cocoon, I had no idea why so I began asking around using my social contacts in Manehattan. The response I got was startling—more than once, my former regulars cited you as the reason they were leaving. I didn’t know it then, but that was around the time your first set of articles had been published. I couldn’t comprehend why so many of my loyal customers had abandoned me, using you as an excuse—I hadn’t given you a single thought in ten years, why were you reentering my life now? And why were people and ponies now whispering about me behind my back? I tried my best, but it was inevitable. Several of my regulars were wealthy, influential patrons, and when they stopped showing, business started dropping ever more swiftly. After a summer of continually shrinking profits, the Shemareaton was operating at a net loss per month. I myself was flush with bits, but my savings would have only delayed the inevitable and my stakeholders made it clear that were I to stay, the Shemareaton would go under. So I was bought out and, nearly eight months to the day after your original article, I gave up the deed to the Shemareaton. I took my bits, my belongings, and my wounded pride, and much like you ten years ago, I left Manehattan behind, moving on. It wasn’t until a month ago that I started reading your articles. I’d known about them for some time, by that point, but I avoided them, blaming you for my misfortune, making up all sorts of excuses how it was really all your fault. Finally, I gave one of them a read, just to kill some time. How ironic that it was the first one you published; your description of your first night with Cayenne… it very nearly made me wet just reading it! And then out of morbid curiosity or simple self-loathing I read the next article… wherein you described how I’d made it next to impossible for you to enjoy any more of Cayenne’s attention, finally driving you away. As I read that article, my emotions were on… I believe the humans say, roller coaster? I started off angry when you blamed me for your unhappiness, embarrassed when Discord’s influence caused us to… well, you remember that, and for the record, that memo you posted upon leaving describing it made me the laughing stock of the entire staff. Finally, I felt a twinge of sadness when you described how you had to resign both from the Shemareaton and the herd, leaving everything behind for the uncertainty of Las Pegasus. No… I take that back. It wasn’t sadness. It was guilt. It was then I realized… I wasn’t happy, and I hadn’t been for many years. Not since the herd had broken up. Not since Cayenne had left me. ‘You never truly know what you have until you’ve lost it’. I’m not sure who said that, but it was then, reading your article, that I realized what a foal I’d been. Looking back on myself, I wasn’t some caring alpha mare trying to juggle the competing interests of herself and her herdmates, I was a tyrant. A mini-Sombra, looking to place the herd as firmly under my control as the hotel itself was. And when all was said and done, I was left with no friends, no mates or prospects, and the more I looked back on myself, the more I came to realize I had done it to myself—that this wasn’t who I meant to be. So to make a long story short… I’m writing to you now from my cousin Golden Harvest’s home in Ponyville. I hated having to ask her for aid, but I didn’t have much choice. It seems my reputation—at least, the reputation stated by you in your articles—has preceded me, and my name is now mud. I’ve apparently burned all my bridges save this one, as nopony else who knows me wants anything to do with me. And as much as I tried to blame you for the longest time, I am now forced to conclude that the fault is mine—that I have reaped what I’ve sown, and a very bitter harvest it is as I now find myself with no influence, no friends… and tending carrots on a farm instead of ledgers and business meetings in Manehattan. Five Stars, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I was an arrogant, greedy, prideful mare who tried to run our herd like my own private kingdom, and as a result, I lost it. The two of us could have been the best of friends, if I hadn’t so foalishly treated you and the rest like a rival for Cayenne’s attention instead of the friend and herdmate you deserved. Cayenne, Acacia, and Ember… if Five Stars publishes this letter, and you read the article it’s attached to, know that my apologies extend to you as well. I ran you all roughshod, taking the lion’s share of your attention, Cayenne, and neglecting you two, Acacia and Ember. You weren’t some prize to be won, Cayenne, you were a pony who just wanted to be a good herd stallion, and I made that impossible for you. And you weren’t competition or employees, Acacia and Ember, you were my fellow mares and herdmates, ones who I treated like dirt. We were a family… a family that I ruined with my thoughtlessness and careless, foalish pride. Again, I’m so sorry. I don’t know if it’s even possible, but I would like to mend fences with all of you… starting with you, Five Stars. Thank you for opening my eyes. And I give you permission to use my real name from now on. Truth be told, I’m unsure why you bothered using an alias for me in the first place—the Shemareaton is well-known, and most of Manehattan knew that I ran it for years. Sincerely, Harvest Moon, a.k.a. ‘Autumn Leaf’ For once in my life… I really don’t know what to say. I only saw this letter a day ago, and I’m still absorbing it now. There are times when you think an old injury has healed, a past long put to bed only to realize it really hasn’t been, and that sometimes all it takes is a single letter to rip the scab off and bare that wound once more. I’m not lying when I say I had to ask Platinum for a day off after reading this because I was in no shape to write or train anyone, just needing to be alone with my thoughts and memories for a bit. I ended up donning my magical disguise and leaving my griffon bodyguards behind so I could walk the city unhindered, clear my head and think. To my surprise, I ended up taking a carriage over to the Shemareaton and walking inside—a place I’d conspicuously avoided ever since my return to Manehattan three years ago. In fact, I’d never been back there once since returning Cayenne’s feather and leaving the building for the train station eleven years ago. I still don’t know what possessed me to return now as I found myself walking inside, despite the clenching of my guts. I arrived to find the sights, sounds and smells were still pretty much the same; even the old flower shop I started in was there. There were a few upgrades here and there, mostly to accommodate human guests, but for the most part the place was unchanged. And yet I was not. I felt like a ghost returning to the place she had once lived, if not died. It literally felt like I was walking through a past life, in the hoofsteps of a pony who no longer existed… And in truth, she does not. The eager and ambitious young mare who once walked the hallways and manned the concierge booth at the Shemareaton, who was so happy to be in her first herd, the one she so naively thought would be the only one she would ever have or need… is gone. And in her place? A wiser, sadder, but in some ways happier pony, who acknowledges she would never have ended up where she did—never found her life’s purpose or gotten to where she was needed—without having been there and gone through what she had. Returning to one’s roots like that makes you reflect on your journey, on your mistakes, on what might have been… on everything, really. They say we shouldn’t dwell in the past, but sometimes we do have to visit it, just to remind ourselves of where we’ve been and how far we’ve come. How I’ve grown, how I’ve loved and lost, laughed and cried… In short, how I have lived. If I’m reminded of anything right now, it’s that I’m not the same pony I was then. It’s also quite true that that place was in many ways where my life both ended and began anew—and though time has dimmed it, the pain of that place remains only all too real. I certainly remember all the highs and lows—my acceptance into the herd, my first time, Discord’s return, my eventual departure… and yet, it was all the little things that also stick with me—Cayenne’s cooking, the enduring friendship that I forged with Ember and Acacia, the fun times we had, how much I savored the rare night with Cayenne… And the wrenching decision to leave them all behind. They say time heals all wounds, but that’s not my experience at all. Some hurts don’t heal so much as scar. Some pain never truly goes away. I guess in some ways, you never forget your first herd any more than your first time or first love. They were all intertwined, and it’s difficult for me to divorce them in my head, even long after I divorced Cayenne’s herd. * * * * * So, let me say this, Harvest. Yes, I’m very surprised to hear from you. I’m also very surprised to hear this coming from you, and I’m honestly not sure how much I believe it. You were never one to apologize, and never once expressed regret for anything you did. So I’m not sure how sincere this is—whether this is more “I’m sorry” or just “I’m sorry all this finally caught up to me.” You hurt all of us—me, Ember and Acacia, and looking back, Cayenne in some ways the worst of all. You took advantage of his passive nature and desire to not cause strife to drive off the mares of his painstakingly assembled herd, all of whom he chose and loved, eventually sending him fleeing not just Manehattan but all the way across the portal, forcing him to start his life over as far away from his pain as possible. I wish you well, but I’m not going to sugar-coat it. For the hurt you did us all, I don’t know if I can ever truly forgive you. As such, I’m afraid I must decline, at least for now, an offer to meet and mend fences. I’m sorry, that wound is just too deep. May you find a fresh start and new purpose as I did, and may you find new friends in the future but treat them far better than you did in the past. * * * * * Now that that’s out of the way, back to the story of my life. The tale I’m about to tell is a very difficult one, for reasons you will see at the end. It’s not about a lost herd, but it is important to me on many levels, not just for the unlikely relationship I formed and hard lessons I learned… but for the groundwork it helped lay in my psyche for the coming of humanity. A Diplomatic Affair To recap, bare months before the portal opened, I had become the personal manager for a Canterlot Court Bard named Delta Requiem and was preparing to accompany her on a goodwill tour of the Gryphon Kingdom, an adjunct to a state visit by Prince Shining Armor and Princess Mi Amore Cadenza. Being a bard, my new client was not just an entertainer, but a diplomat and an actual agent of the royal court. As such, she is often sent accompanying diplomatic missions to foreign nations. I didn’t know everything she did (and I still don’t to this day!), but it was clear to me that she was far more than just a singer, and seemed to have some official power and authority vested in her by Princess Celestia herself. Initial arrangements for the trip were handled through the Equestrian Diplomatic Corps and the Gryphon Embassy, and I mostly just had to make sure I was up-to-date on protocols and procedures so as to not accidentally offend our hosts. And yet, all I could think as I studied up on their history and culture was… them? What about me? I read nothing that immediately changed my mind about them—hunters and carnivores, a militaristic bent, a wild race living in a wild land, at best peripherally touched by harmony… never mind their unprovoked attack on Equestria seven centuries prior. I couldn’t imagine I would like their homeland that much, and found myself dreading the moment when I would step on the royal airship for the overseas trip. But the moment did come, and I put on my best face for it, bowing and smiling as Delta introduced me to the Prince and Princess for the first time. Any other time, I would have been in awe and all but giddy over meeting them, but given my churning insides I simply couldn't be. Despite the presence of our royal party and attendant good food and luxurious airship we traveled on, it was a three-day journey where I slept and ate little and got repeatedly nauseous, both for being airsick and wondering how I was going to get along when I was no longer surrounded by ponies and had to work with the griffons closely. I had thought myself tolerant of other cultures and races, but found that severely tested as we touched down and I beheld the Gryphon capital city of Arnau for the first time. * * * * * Learning a new culture is never easy when you’ve been steeped in your own your whole life, and the first thing that hit me when I stepped off the airship was the smell. There was a strong aroma of bread, to be sure, but there was definitely another, more subtle scent as well, something that made the normally curly hairs of my mane stand on end… Cooking meat. It was only then it truly hit me that I was among predators, meat-eaters—beings that might have, in another time and place, seen me as prey, hunted me down and killed me for food. That is not to say I or any other pony couldn’t defend ourselves from such things, via strength, flight, or magic, but that it was an old instinct and fear still present in the back of our minds, a callback to a time when things were far less civilized and harmony was unknown amongst the species of Tellus. And here I was, visiting a foreign land filled with meat-eaters for the first time, being exposed to all it meant. I had little time to absorb it all as initial greetings were exchanged and they whisked us off to our quarters by ground carriages pulled by earth-griffons. Instead of at the Equestrian Embassy, which was already crowded with nobles and diplomats and would be housing the Prince and Princess themselves, they put us up in a high-end hotel called the Winged Hall Inn with more pony-flavored rooms and lighting. Most griffons, for the record, are perfectly content to sleep on piles of straw or beds of pine boughs; most see pony (or now human) beds as a luxury. One thing I very quickly learned about them was they have a very deep pride in their toughness and that of their nation, and that their pride was a force to be reckoned with. My education continued as we attended a state dinner overseen by Queen Molyneux herself, formally introduced to our new hosts. From well-armed, twitchy and slightly-angry looking guards dressed in formal attire to the resplendence of the Queen herself in a grand hall that itself seemed like something out of eras past, consisting of firegem-lit spaces that were almost too dim for Equestrian eyes, it was a lot to take in, and I found myself already yearning for the familiarity of home as the Queen, Prince and Princess each gave speeches in turn. Delta noticed my discomfort, and as a result, I think she sang a song just for me as she was asked to perform for the Queen for the first time. It was both haunting and soothing, speaking of lost souls and unlikely alliances, of the friendships born of understanding. At the end, the acclaim was quite real even from our hosts, and I have to admit I did feel better, the edge taken off my culture shock. At least I was finally able to sleep at least a few hours that night, though after three days on the airship it still felt to my legs like I was flying! Speaking of which, one of the things I had to get used to was the fact that all griffons can fly, not just a third of them like ponies. True, there are sky-griffons and earth-griffons much like there are pegasi and earth ponies, though that distinction simply means the latter are more adapted for life in the southern plains, possessing larger, stronger bodies that can’t fly long distances, only shorter ones. Sky-griffons, by contrast, are built for the rugged northern mountains, with larger wings and sleeker bodies and can literally fly hundreds of miles at a time. They even have some few magic users, or ‘mages’ as they call them, though they can’t control weather like pegasi can. In fact, aside from a very few Equestrian weather teams on call to help mitigate severe storms, their weather is completely wild; they are dependent for rainfall on storms rolling off the northern mountains or out of the southern sea. That fact was another thing that took some getting used to; particularly during one intense thunderstorm that struck the city the first week I was there; booming lightning causing some damage to nearby spires and keeping me wide awake for half the night. But that lay several days in the future. In truth, I didn’t sleep well at all that first night despite Delta’s intervention. The simple fact was that I was in an alien place surrounded by predators, and no matter how accommodating our hosts tried to be, that fact simply wouldn’t leave my head. Delta reassured me that what I was going through happened to many first-time pony visitors to the Kingdom, and I would adjust in due time. I had a hard time believing I would ever get used to the smell of meat, but she was right on that score; a few days later I barely noticed anymore. Before long, in fact, I started gaining an appreciation for their architecture and how well it suited them. The griffons love high points and aeries, things they can use as perches. Their cities are built for flying no less than the great pegasi cloud cities are, but also for defense, with spiral walls and battlements left over from the days of yore. Arnau is an old city but remembers its roots and the wars that were fought in the Kingdom’s distant past. Lacking wings, it made it somewhat harder for me to go places, but I eventually figured out my way around… though I tried not to too wander far at first. Slowly shaking off my culture shock, I began working with my hosts in earnest, making sure everything was ready for Delta’s coming performances. My liaison was an earth-griffon tiercel named Miral Kalishad. He was a cultural attaché who would act as translator and escort when needed, and as leery as I was of him at first, I was glad to have him around. He made things much less awkward for a new Equestrian visitor, and even treated me to dinner a couple times at pony-friendly places when Delta was off at some other function that mere managers weren’t allowed to attend. Now that was an odd feeling, being treated by a male, and a predator one, no less! He took the time to show me around and get me settled, and after two weeks in Arnau, the Prince and Princess returned to Equestria while we set off on our goodwill tour in earnest, scheduled to hit most major areas of the Kingdom. From the historic old city of Loondon to the one-time (and once-razed) Imperial Capitol of Mosclaw, I found, much to my surprise, that I was gaining a new appreciation for my hosts. They lived in a wild land and had to fight off many deadly foes, both magical and not, just to survive over the long millennia. Yet they not only survived, they thrived. In fact, they took pride in not using weather control or magic more than necessary, scraping their existence with strength and steel out of the harsh lands that were their home. Admittedly, it was slightly awkward seeing a memorial dedicated to the griffon dead of their war with Equestria some seven hundred years past, but I tried not to begrudge it. In the end, they fought for their nation and race, as did we. Historians still debate the causes of that conflict to this day, but there’s no denying that in the end, we became friends and allies. The war ended in a stalemate, but if soldiers on both sides ultimately fell to realize friendship between us, then perhaps they did not fall in vain. As the weeks wore on and the performances added up—there was generally one new venue a week with three or four shows—I found myself getting to know my attaché a bit better. He’d certainly had an interesting life, having traveled not only all over his own nation, but to Equestria and the Zebra lands as well, seeing most of Tellus in the process. He had many interesting stories to tell, and yet… the ones I found most fascinating were of him. Of his upbringing, his military service (compulsory in the Gryphon Kingdom)… And the few relationships he’d had. Rounds and Rum Three months into our trip, we were ending our visit to the Kingdom with a tour of the southern farmlands. Ironically, we performed for quite a few Equestrians then, as there are actually a fair number of earth ponies that farm there, working out of steadholts. Food production has always been an issue for the omnivorous griffons, but they did eventually accept the help of Equestria and my fellow earth ponies to raise crops, and even paid well for it—for another thing I had learned well about griffons by then was they considered adequate compensation a matter of honor and always insisted on it in their business dealings. A week before departure, we were in a gap between performances and I was having dinner with Miral again, this time in the town of Tierra. By that time, we’d worked together so much I had gotten to know him quite well, and him me; I’d even told him about my own past relationships and failed herds. He’d expressed his sympathy to me, noting that griffons didn’t have the unbalanced gender ratios that ponies did and as a result, their culture had developed far differently—“For us, it’s not a one-way flight, Five Stars—whether tiercel or eagless, a griffon must always prove his or her worthiness to their potential mate.” Leaving aside the fact that our unbalanced gender ratios were in part because of the griffons—they decimated our pegasi stallion numbers during the war—I had to say, I liked the idea of a relationship among equals, where it wasn’t all on the mares… going on to bat my eyes and ask him, thanks in part to a few drinks now in my system (by then I’d acquired a taste for griffon rum)… Just how did one ‘prove’ themselves in a griffon’s eyes? * * * * * A little rose-cheeked himself, Miral regarded me for a moment, then smiled. “We fight rounds, Five Stars,” was his simple answer as he dipped his beak into the bowl of his own rum (their beaks made it difficult to drink from cups unless they were wide). Rounds? Yes, indeed. He explained by saying that griffons who were interested in each other fought mock duels, called “rounds”, semi-serious sparring matches that served two purposes—both to work themselves up and to demonstrate worthiness, to prove that they were a good physical match for their prospective mates. As he explained, a stray memory clicked—I recalled an instance of a stallion mating an eagless during the New Year’s Eve action in Las Pegasus, and it had involved a rather intense-looking aerial duel and sparring match to start, only ending when the stallion had forced the eagless down, at which point she presented herself to be rutted. He saw the light go on in my eyes and asked me what I was remembering, so I told him and he chuckled, asking with slightly-more-than-academic interest if such things were normal in Las Pegasus. “Only on New Years…” I told him, feeling wistful as I recalled the events of that night. “Really? A pity…” he shrugged as he wiped his beak, but there was an odd smile on his face as we continued to eat… and drink. In hindsight, I think the seed was laid at that point as we wrapped up dinner and lingered long over dessert—a simple but very moist slice of cake. griffons don’t have the sweet tooth that ponies do, but they do enjoy their scones and breads and are generally excellent bakers… particularly, it’s said, once they learned from ponies about baking soda. “So, Five Stars… do you have your eye on anypony now?” he asked me in an offpaw manner, now working on his fourth rum bowl, his head swaying slightly. I shook my head, saying that it was still too soon after my last herd to consider a new one. “But why do you need a new herd? Why not just a new lover?” Miral asked me, taking another bite of his cake. “From what you said, you were happiest when you had them as opposed to herd stallions. And you know… you might be surprised where you could find one,” he stated in a mild voice. I regarded him coolly for a moment—like him, I was quite tipsy but wasn’t so drunk I didn’t catch his meaning. “I suppose I might… if I found someone worthy…” I answered in an equally mild tone, surprised that I would say someone and at where my thoughts were going—him? Yes, I liked him. Yes, we were friends, and yes, for as much as we’d worked together and as much as we’d shared, I felt closer to him than I had to anypony since, honestly, Cruise Control. In fact, if he were a pony, I’d pounce him in a second. But a griffon…? He learned over the table, his eyes going hooded, an almost-predatory glimmer growing within them; a look that I found both disconcerting and strangely exciting. “But how would you know they were worthy?” he challenged me, his leonine tail swishing behind him. I leaned towards him to answer, leveling my own sultry look at him. Whether due to the alcohol or familiarity or perhaps the memories of that long-ago night in Las Pegasus, there was no doubt about it—he was flirting with me, and I was flirting back, enjoying the attention of this exotic male I had come to know so well over the previous two months. Enjoying the fact that he was coming to me, meeting me halfway—so different than what I’d known as a mare. It wasn’t just that either; the idea of being taken by a predator was definite turn-on to me, and I found my excitement over the idea quickly beginning to grow. “Well, I don’t know… I guess I’d have to test them…” I gave a very deliberate shrug back despite the heat in my cheeks, reflecting that after two months in the Kingdom, I seemed to not only have settled in, but was taking on some griffon proclivities! His grin got wider as his tail began swishing even more quickly, his talons tapping lightly on the table in audible indication of his own excitement. “That could be arranged. Right now, if you want…” he suggested, a husky undertone to his voice. We threw back our remaining drink, settled our bill, and as one walked out the door. When in Roam… I wasn’t immediately sure what to expect as he led me to a field not far outside the town under a beautiful moonlit and starlit sky, a sharp breeze blowing out of the south, ruffling both fur and feathers. All I was sure of was that I was getting very, very excited at the thought of being taken by this predator, whose eyes were glimmering in the moonlight, adding to the predatory effect… which was only heightened further as he began circling me, almost stalking me, his wings flared for flight. While he circled, he explained the rules thusly: we would fight until submission, or… “until we could no longer hold back,” and either way, if we were worthy in each other’s eyes… “things would take their proper course.” I needed no elaboration. I had fought before, of course, both growing up and most recently when me and my sister went at it after too many insults on Hearth’s Warming Day, but this was… different. It was a concept completely foreign to most ponies; fighting and sparring for fun… let alone as a prelude to mating! But I was in the Kingdom now, among griffons, and… well, the phrase “When in Roam” comes to mind. And in an odd way, part of my societal programming as a mare was making itself known here, in that in order to win a male, I had to come to him, meet my desired mate on his terms. And if those terms meant fighting a ‘round’ with him… Then so be it. He made the first move—a refreshing change of pace for a mare!—charging me and taking an airborne swipe at me, startling me with his speed—he wasn’t kidding; these ‘rounds’ really were pretty serious! I immediately reared my hooves up to pinwheel them in a defensive manner, warding off his initial charge, then lowered my head and leaped, planting my hooves into his feathered chest. He was visibly surprised as he was knocked backwards hard, then coughed and circled around again. “Not bad…” he told me, briefly rubbing his chest. “I heard earth ponies were pretty strong. Guess I know now why we couldn’t win at Stalliongrad,” he noted, referring to the battle that marked the turning point of the Pony/Gryphon war. “Well, griffons aren’t the only ones who seek to make their ancestors proud,” I rejoined, lowering my head and inviting him to attack again. You would have thought that my ingrained desire to never harm a male would have come to fore there, but at that point, I wasn’t just acting like a griffon eagless, I honestly believe I was thinking like one as well… I really had gone native! And so we went, exchange after exchange, talons and hooves finding their mark, inflicting cuts and bruises… and in at least one case, his beak bit me with something a little stronger than a love bite, breaking the skin on my shoulder. Even now I’m not sure how long we went at it; might have been a single minute, might have been three. Regardless, by the end I was hurt, breathing hard and bleeding from several slashes… and I couldn’t have cared less. I was fully into our ‘round’, delighting in the adrenaline rush and the sheer exhilaration of our simulated struggle between predator and prey, but I also didn’t forget the purpose behind it as I countered his latest attack, leaping and tackling him right out of the air before rolling up on him. I then used my earth pony strength to slam him down on his back as hard as I could, making it clear I could have pounded his head into the dirt if I desired. “How’s that?” I asked him huskily, feeling his hardness poking me from behind, already eager to know what its shape and texture were… what it would be like to have it inside me. “Am I worthy now, Miral?” He only response was to reach his paw around my head and clasp it, pulling my muzzle to his beak. * * * * * For reasons that will become clear at the end of this article, I am not going into the details of our lovemaking except to say that it was like nothing I’d ever experienced before… his beak, his love nips, the feel of his talons grasping me… to say nothing of his organ inside me, his barbed and tapered shaft scraping my inner walls, causing me both pain and pleasure in equal measure. He initially took me under the moon before returning to his quarters and having a literal roll in the hay, where I did something a beaked griffon eagless could not, giving him oral, delighting in his exotic body and malehood, watching as he arched his back and clutched hard at his blanket, his talons putting holes in it. In truth, his talons did scratch me more than once in the heat of passion, and I was pretty clawed up by night’s end. But it was an experience to remember, and one I’d never forget… Though the next day I wished I could. That night, we went to bed snuggled up, my head nestled in his chest feathers, his taloned paw wrapped around me, all but floating. I was admittedly a little sore, scratched on the outside and a bit raw on the inside. But I was happy, having just indulged a fantasy I didn’t even know I had, found contentment in a place I never dreamed. All was calm, as was well… And then the next morning, I freaked. The alcohol and excitement of the night now gone, I was shocked and confused at what had happened, having done things I’d never, ever dreamt I would. It wasn’t like the concept of ponies and griffons mating was unknown to me; I’d certainly seen it done in Las Pegasus, but… like so many other things, seeing and doing were two different things. I didn’t know what to think, I didn’t know what it meant for me, for us, for any future herd prospects… even for my job. And all I could think as I stumbled back to my hotel room in a daze the next morning, dirty and in desperate need of a shower was… What had I done? The emotional hangover fierce, I variously tried to convince myself that it had been the alcohol, the moonlit night, a random magical current… any number of things other than admit that I’d acted the part of an eagless and actually enjoyed myself as one—enjoyed a tiercel’s attention. I didn’t understand why I was so upset, except that it bothered me greatly that I’d fought a male to gain sex—a concept I completely recoiled from now that I was no longer inebriated or in the passion of the moment—and it felt like I’d just crossed a line I somehow wasn’t ready for; one that had blindsided me out of nowhere. Miral realized I was upset and gave me some space, but we still had to work together for the remaining week, which was… awkward. Delta guessed what had happened and tried to talk to me, but I was inconsolable for a while and very relieved to leave the Kingdom behind. Miral and I did have one last talk just before leaving, where he asked me not to regret what had happened… that he’d enjoyed our time together and that I’d opened his eyes as much he hoped he had mine, hoping that we might yet be together again. In return, I thanked him for his hospitality, but told him I simply wasn’t comfortable with what happened and didn’t know if I ever would be. He offered to keep in touch, but I was noncommittal, saying I needed time to process everything… that if I wanted to talk, I would contact him. In the end, I never did, and I never saw him again. Reflections I imagine readers are starting to see why this is such a painful story for me to tell. Simply put, I wasn’t ready mentally or emotionally for what happened, and ended up losing someone who might have meant a great deal to me… if I’d simply allowed him to be, or even just made the effort to work through my issues and reach out to him afterwards. Still, some good came of it. So what did I take from our all-too-brief time together? My first interspecies experience, certainly, and a new appreciation for both how wonderfully different they can be and how much extra work they take. Looking back, would I have still done it knowing how I felt after? Honestly, I’d have to say yes—it was an experience I needed to have, and one that would carry forward to the coming of humanity, now just weeks away. And yet… it was also a very powerful experience, not just for the erotic feeling of being taken by a predator and all the ways it affected me, but for how it lend me insights and respect for a culture I’d never looked favorably upon as a pony. The griffons have honor and remember their warrior roots, they’re as good a friend and ally as they were once implacable of enemies. Miral proved that to me, and showed that ponies and griffons were not natural enemies, that beings from entirely different species could be friends, even lovers… a lesson that is certainly still relevant now. Unfortunately, and this was the lesson I did not learn in time, he also showed me that such relationships take a great deal of open-mindedness, patience and work, and a willingness on both sides to meet halfway. Yes, you can say such things are true for any relationship, but it’s doubly so for something like this and in the end… he was willing, but I wasn’t. It ended as quickly as it began simply because I wasn’t ready for it, and I do have great regret for it. I wish very much he could tell you this for himself. I wish I could share a letter from him as I have from Cayenne, Cruise, and so many others. I wish I could see and catch up with him again, as I’ve now been able to do for now all my past herdmates and lovers. And above all else, I wish I could apologize to him directly for how poorly I acted after. He deserved far better than the treatment I gave him. But sadly… that can never happen, and I have nopony but myself to blame. Three years ago, he was attending to a human diplomatic mission near Aricia when the Cloven of the Sun attacked, and neither he nor those he was escorting have been heard from since. He is officially listed as missing as so many griffons and ponies in that conflict are, but… But in my heart, I know he’s gone. And there’s nothing of his I have—no souvenir of our time together; no gravesite or homestead out there I could visit that might provide solace. Nowhere I can go except perhaps the new war memorial in Arnau where the dead and missing, whether human, pony or griffon have their names etched in obsidian. But until then, the only way I can pay my respects to him is to say this: Miral, you are remembered. Regretted. And missed. This story has been, in many ways, my most difficult one to tell. Much was left unresolved with my griffon friend, and by the time I came to terms with it, it was too late to do anything about it. I now very much wish I had stayed in touch with him—could my presence in his life have changed his fate? I’d’ve certainly enjoyed being with him more than my fourth and final herd!—and I can’t help but wonder what his final moments must have been like. Did he fight back? Did his life flash before his eyes? Did he think of me? Did he wonder what might have been? Selfish thoughts to be sure. One thing this story and Harvest Moon’s letter remind me of now is that life doesn’t happen in isolation. Even chance encounters and long forgotten-events have a ripple effect through time, people and places we haven’t thought about in years can come back to affect us once more in ways we never dreamed possible. It happened to Cayenne, to Braeburn, to Harvest… and now, to me. So I urge all reading… if there’s someone out there you once knew but lost contact with, somebody who meant something to you… make an effort to get in touch with them again. You just never know when your time will be up. Or theirs. > Part 19: The Portal Opens > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – The Portal Opens By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post Magazines October 19 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: As all have no doubt heard, there was a coordinated protest/sit-in at the two magazine offices, where our lobbies and press rooms were invaded by several dozen chanting college kids and a few celebrities who played and preened for the cameras, singing and chanting vapid slogans that required little IQ to come up with and even less to think were witty or clever. Unfortunately, they were savvy in one important sense that they did let the bulk of the media know it was happening, and they descended upon us as well as if we were somehow no longer one of them, just another story to dissect for ratings or worse. They interviewed the protestors but never us, gave them all the publicity these people were hungry for, never once considering our feelings or side of things. The police removed our trespassers within an hour, but they did succeed in sabotaging our printing presses and trashing several offices, for which they were roundly lauded as ‘heroes’ on some social media sites. As a result, our latest print issue release was delayed by several days, for which we do apologize to our readers and distributors, but thank them again for their support and the immediate counter-protest that materialized in its wake. I’m sorry to say, we have fallen a long way when attempts to silence other voices are now celebrated as a blow for social justice. But then again, understanding that would require a modicum of self-awareness on the part of the protestors and their supporters, which seem to be sadly lacking of late. So once again, I say, to both social conservative and social justice warrior alike—much as you may hate the comparison, you’re little different in mindset or methods, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re equally evil for it. Regardless, you’re not silencing our presses; you’re not stopping the articles, and you’re not intimidating us by forming online lynch mobs with equally inflexible and feeble-minded people who are incapable of any form of critical thought. Kalido would say to turn the other cheek, but I’m not Kalido and I’m not taking this any more. Try it again, and you will find us quite ready for you. —Jamie Kason, acting chief editor, New York Life magazine Manehattan Post Owner’s Note: Well said, Jamie. Those tactics were tried here as well, to far less success. Several dozen protesters crossed the portal under false pretenses and then stormed my office, though they didn’t get very far. Half my staff are unicorns, so they simply picked up the group one by one and deposited them outside, then threw a soundproof bubble around them so they could shout and scream to their heart’s content but nobody could hear them until the constabulary came to cart them off. Proving their utter ignorance of Equestria, they also didn’t seem to understand that their earth-brought electronic equipment wouldn’t work in the presence of heavy magic use, so they got no video of their ‘heroic stand for social justice’. Needless to say, they’ve been thrown back across the portal now, and blacklisted from returning to Equestria. I speak for my staff and most ponies present when I say there is nothing ‘heroic’ or ‘progressive’ about trying to stifle debate or silence voices for the sole crime of disagreeing with you or threatening your basic worldview. In other news, for the first time in weeks I have a lead on the location of my Gentleman and am pursuing it. I can’t say any more right now; but by the time this issue is printed, I will have departed again in search for him. By the time the next article is run, it is my great hope that I will have found him and returned him to his friends and loved ones. —Hot Topic, owner and founder, Manehattan Post magazine Dear readers— I’ve heard it said that the road to Tartarus is paved with good intentions. Well, I’m having a hard time ascribing any to our latest opponents. They hit not only the Manehattan Post, but the G4M offices as well, trying to form a ‘human chain’ across our headquarters entrances, binding their arms together and to two lightposts on either end, chanting away with nonsense phrases. Angry words were then traded with our Gentleman, and one got his face spat in by a young woman protester, who followed up by calling him a mare abuser and rapist. That sparked a heated exchange between the group and not only our gentleman but our trainer and handler mares, some of which looked ready to act in decidedly inharmonious ways for the ways their men were being treated. In the interests of peace, Platinum and I offered to talk privately with the group leaders if they would surrender quietly and not cause any further scene. After some talk, they agreed, realizing that they weren’t getting the publicity they wanted, some complaining that their video phones weren’t working. Well, no, earth electronics don’t generally work in the presence of magic; that’s one of the reasons why they haven’t been sold in Equestria until recently. Newer models now coming out take care of that; my tablet is one of the prototypes. So I went back with one young lady while Platinum handled a male student in a separate room. I can’t speak for Platinum, but my ‘talk’ was little more than a one sided-lecture. I listened patiently as she told me that by saying women were mistreating men, I was ‘promoting male privilege’. I didn’t interrupt when she explained that by encouraging men to be with mares I was ‘encouraging their objectification’ and ‘inviting the establishment of a patriarchy’ she and her kind were fighting hard to dismantle on Earth. I didn’t say a word when she stated gravely that by putting down women I was ‘undoing a half-century of work’ in obtaining gender equality, and my only reaction to being told that ‘mastering masculinity requires fighting all expressions of manspreading’ wherever they’re found was a raised eye ridge. At that point, I was more amazed than appalled that anyone could actually believe this. It was the most tortured logic imaginable, this ‘pseudo-intellectual claptrap’ in the words of one Gentleman that any other time I might have found amusing. But then when she told me that she had read my latest article and the fact I’d been drinking and regretted our night together after meant Miral had raped me… I lost it. I ordered her thrown out of the building, telling my griffon bodyguards to remove her before I did so myself. They obeyed quite gladly, and I spent the next several hours alternately fuming and crying at an old wound ripped open for the second time, even worse than before. Afterwards, I was comforted by Platinum, my bodyguards and several Gentlemen, ending up staying the night with Honeydew, not wanting to be alone. Since I was too distraught to answer then, I’ll answer now: No, Miral did not rape me. After three or four drinks we were certainly suggestible but not so drunk we didn’t know what we were doing. And besides, we’d both been drinking, so by that logic could it not be said that I raped him? Why does that only apply to the male? Further, I chose to drink, and in hindsight I probably did so with an eye on getting intimate with this exotic male I’d grown rather close to over the many months I’d been in the Kingdom. If I choose to do something, does that not make me responsible for the consequences of that action? Perhaps I didn’t think it through, but that’s on me, not him. And then to accuse that dear, sweet earth griffon of such a hideous thing when I’m freshly mourning him… Yes, I regretted it the morning after. But regret does not equal rape. And to suggest otherwise… I’m starting to understand fully now why many Gentlemen have nothing but bad things to say about the anti-male environment in their home nations on Earth. I am truly sorry for what was said, Five Stars. Myself, I had a lively and ultimately fruitful discussion with an eager young man who did fervently believe he was doing right and simply didn’t know differently. I showed him a few things, made some points he hadn’t heard before, and I daresay he left at least little more enlightened. So please don’t think they’re all hopeless. They mean well enough, but they’ve been taught very poorly. As young as they are, I consider that more on their teachers than them. —Platinum Corona Well, Platinum, I’m glad to hear you had a better of time of it and perhaps got through to at least one of them. Perhaps you’re right, but all I saw was a bunch of petulant brats utterly incapable of comprehending another point of view. And they call it ‘higher’ education? Just what in the name of Equestria are they learning??? Enough. Onward to happier thoughts. What is love? Coming into this, it had been my intention to next go into the details of my fourth herd, spending a full article on it only to realize… I really didn’t want to, and when it came down to it there really was no need to as it taught me nothing new. I’ve had enough unhappy memories of late, it’s time to move on to better ones. So I will touch on my fourth herd, but nothing more, as I realize that many readers are rather eager to hear about the opening of the portal and coming of humanity, which happened just weeks after I returned from the Kingdom. So on a more upbeat note, I’m going to open up with another letter I received recently, one that has to do with the last Q&A session we ran. You may recall a letter penned by an angry mother where she detailed what had happened when her son had brought home a mare over the human holidays. They reacted very badly and I chewed her out, fearing upon reading it what had become of her son and his chosen mate. I’m relieved to say I now know. I got a second letter regarding that incident, one that was a far greater pleasure to read. I present it now in its entirety: Dear Five Stars: What is love? For me it is the feeling you have when you found the one with you want to share the rest of your life. But some say it has to be limited by gender or race? The human culture may have come to accept same-sex relationships to an extent, but it will be a time before cross-species relationships are. But for myself, I don’t care. Why, you may ask? Well, first I’d like to apologize for the letter that accused you of destroying a family. The person who sent it to you was my mother (yes, despite everything, I still call her my mother); when I saw it I knew in an instant it was her. She didn’t have the right to say such hurtful things, and I apologize to you for them. Also I’d like to thank you for standing up for us, for the words of hope you offered to me and my wife. Yes, you read correctly. I am now married to the wonderful mare that my family hated; not only that but we are the proud parents of an equally wonderful thestral filly we adopted. I may not know how Gentleman feel but I find myself identifying more with the mares you help. You see, I myself already had problems with my family, mostly for not following their footsteps. I had two troubled relationships before this, one where my first girlfriend dumped me for another girl and the second one where she cheated on me with my now-former best friend. Like so many other people, I came across the portal for a job opportunity and to clear my mind. When I arrived, I found I was well received and enjoyed my new life here, and well... that’s where I met the beautiful mare who is now my wife. She helped me in so many ways; like your gentleman, she was the shoulder I leaned on and I was hers. Our relationship was not borne of desire but of friendship and understanding. In fact, when we became a couple it was her who urged me to make amends with my family. Sadly, it didn’t end well as my mother’s letter made clear. My wife suffered as much if not worse than I did at their rejection but that didn’t stop me from loving her. At least the pony friends I made in Equestria and her family accepted our relationship without any problem. As for our sex life, well, our first time wasn’t until after we were married because we wanted it to be special. And special it was; we eloped in Las Pegasus and had our honeymoon there. Who knows, perhaps it was our marriage you saw last time you went? Regardless, I just wanted to thank you for your work and assure you that we’re happy. Maybe one day my family will accept us, but until then, we’re fine where we are. With sincere thanks, “Roameo and Muliet” The aliases are not mine, folks, but regardless… a star-crossed pair indeed! Just so long as you didn’t end up the same as as those Shakesponian characters did, I’m happy. I have no idea whether it was in fact your wedding I saw, but I’m very glad to know you’ve found happiness with each other, regardless of what your family thinks. No, there is no reason love has to be limited by gender or species, though to be fair, I’m reminded since telling the story of me and Miral that I too have had some very shaky times with that concept. Sometimes things you’re okay with in principle or at a distance provokes a much stronger visceral reaction when it’s up close and personal. Sometimes it just takes time to come around. So it is my hope that one day you can yet reconcile with your family, and they will yet welcome your wife and daughter into their fold. Descent My return trip from the Kingdom wasn’t much better than the one there. Aside from renewed airsickness, I had endless dreams and nightmares about Miral. In one of the latter, I was turning into an eagless to the point that I was stalking and killing prey; in another I was having a round with a stallion and beating him up so I could obtain sex, leaving me an emotional wreck afterwards. Then there were the sex dreams themselves, as my subconscious would simply not leave what happened with Miral alone. I dreamt of what we did endlessly, the round and the rutting, and even worse, found myself waking up soaking wet whenever I did. I truly did enjoy our encounter regardless of how torn up it left me; the whole predator/prey thing had really struck a deep chord within me. Occasionally I broke down and pleasured myself to thoughts of him, fantasizing about him stalking and taking me; more than once I started to write a letter to him only to crumple it up. For the biggest block in my head was… how could I be with him? What would other ponies think? What about other griffons? What if I wanted foals and he couldn’t give me them? How could I ask him to leave the kingdom for me? Or how could I stay in the Kingdom with him? My mind went in circles as I considered these questions, finding no answers as Delta tried to talk to me a few more times. She told me I wasn’t the first pony, stallion or mare to fall prey to a griffon’s charms, and there wasn’t anything wrong with me for it, saying she understood if I needed some time off now. Reluctantly, I agreed. She suggested counseling, and I promised her I would. I’m sorry to say that it was a promise I did not keep. Between my growing sleep deprivation and refusal to face my fears and feelings, I ended up in a severe downward spiral. I kept trying to prove to myself that I wasn’t now a gryphophile (one of less offensive terms out there for such ponies), and in my mind… that meant sleeping with every colt I could, seducing guardsponies and random stallions alike. I did that for a few weeks, but, neither enjoying such shallow encounters and increasingly insomniac as I found no relief from my anxieties and dreams, I decided I needed stronger medicine. So I quit my job with Delta and, ignoring her growing alarm over my behavior, I basically weaseled my way into a new herd over the vehement objections of my new stallion’s existing mares by promising to take care of his finances and business dealings. Delta was only too right when she said I was out of control and needed help. It was a terrible mistake, a chapter in my life best forgotten. It was as if all the lessons I’d ever learned about relationships and being in herds were unremembered or outright ignored, and not just me but the entire herd paid the price for it. Many times I’ve noted how it only takes one problem herdmate to spoil things for the rest. Well, I’m sorry to say that in this case, that problem herdmate… was me. I was very bossy, possessive, and needy to the point that nopony else wanted to be around me. I became both Harvest and Juniper at their worst, rolled up into one tidy package, and managed to make a mess of my stallion’s herd and business dealings for my lack of sleep and the amount of drinking I was doing. I made everyone around me miserable, he rutted me mostly to shut me up, and it got to the point that even my skill with oral wasn’t enough to make him keep me around. To make a long story short, it lasted less than six weeks, and ended with me thrown out of house and herd on my ear, quite deservedly. And all I could do after was drag myself to a bar and drown myself in cider yet again. Rock Bottom Thankfully, I had friends, even then, most notably my now-former business client. Delta had been keeping tabs on me and found me passed out in an alley the next morning. She took me home and cleaned me up, and didn’t let me leave even after I’d sobered up, at which point she sat me down and told me we were going to have a long talk. It was not easy to hear some of things she said. This was my intervention, and she was surprisingly good at it. She told me I’d been a foal, that I was in denial, and that I was now hurting other ponies around me with my actions. She said that if I didn’t stop I was going to self-destruct fully, that I had too much potential and too much life ahead of me to just throw it all away. When I apologized for my behavior and told her I’d be leaving the city soon, she shook her head and said very firmly no. She told me that the solution was not, as I had so often done in the past, to flee my problems by starting over in another city; that I’d just be starting the cycle all over again and sooner or later I was going to run out of cities and chances. Despite my depression, that gave me some pause. Was she right? Was that what I had always done? With a sinking heart, I realized that it was. My usual reaction to a failed herd was to run away, flee the scene instead of fully facing my pain. It was an epiphany, and a painful one at that, so I asked what seemed like my only friend in the world what I should do now, realizing that with my behavior since that night with Miral, I’d destroyed my reputation, my hireability, and even my own self-respect in the process. In response, Delta laid down the law with me. She told me that I was staying in Canterlot, that I could work for her again but that I was now dry, that I was to clean myself up and stay that way. That I was also to enter counseling with the goal of coming to terms with my feelings for Miral, or it would haunt me for my entire life... which my drinking and destructive behavior had been threatening to cut short anyway. Realizing I was at rock-bottom and unable to even look at myself in the mirror, I agreed. Rebound Four weeks later, I was on a bit of a rebound. Twice-a-week counseling sessions were helping, and surprisingly, so was just being with Delta, who kept me company whenever she could and sang for me frequently. I never fully understood her musical talent, which seemed to go far beyond that of normal harmony-induced singing most ponies possessed, but her songs were always soothing, lyrical tales of growth and redemption finding resonance within me. Later on, she took me on a special tour of the Wonderbolts History Museum near Canterlot Castle, saying there was something very specific she wanted me to see. The exhibits were interesting to be sure, covering the entire 700-year history of the group, but of greatest note were the ones from the Wonderbolts founding at the time of the Gryphon/Pony war. They were known as the Bolt Knights back then, a rapid-reaction force formed in the early days of the Gryphon invasion to defeat enemy attacks and launch lightning raids of their own. As I looked among the old armor and weaponry—a reminder of Equestria’s own distant but less than harmonious past—we came across a centerpiece exhibit in a courtyard with little else around it. It was a large sculpture that represented the ending of the war. It depicted Captain Firefly, founder of the Bolt Knights, exchanging scrolls with her gryphon counterpart General Kaval, commander of the elite Red Talons. They wore armor but their helmets were off as they traded the documents. It was not a surrender, or even the signing of a peace treaty. It was two warriors and leaders meeting each other as equals, showing respect that years of bitter combat between their teams had forged. The sculpture placard said it was a commissioned depiction of a post-armistice meeting between the two rivals, one forged by both pony and griffon artisans, and as a result of this meeting there were two sets of names etched into the stone… Those of the Bolt Knights and Red Talons that had fallen during the war. It went on to say that the two Captains insisted that their enemies be remembered along with their friends, that the valor and sacrifice of both sides be recognized, and thus they exchanged lists of their fallen so identical memorials could be built in Arnau and Canterlot... so that “all would know that even the most implacable of enemies did not have to stay that way, that we could ultimately choose friendship over fighting,” it quoted Firefly as saying. “She was right. We were meant to be friends,” Delta noted as I looked upon it in some wonder. “Friends, allies… and this is where it began. That we are different races, have different faces, different diets… it doesn’t matter. What matters is friendship, like the one you forged with Miral. And the fact that you were different species just makes what you shared all the more special. Friendship recognizes no boundaries, Five Stars… and in the end, neither do the things that may grow from it.” She said no more. She didn’t have to. I asked for some time to myself, and she took her leave. I stayed there thinking until closing, then took a long walk back home... Not knowing that not just my life, but all Equestria was about to undergo a massive change. A Door Opens The next morning, I woke to a general commotion in the streets. Delta was gone, leaving a note saying she’d been called on a urgent summons to the castle. I looked outside to see ponies gathered around street corners and newsstands, speaking in alternately fearful and excited tones. My first thought was that the Changelings were invading again, but it was nothing of the sort… though in many ways, the truth was almost as alarming. “Extra, extra, read all about it! New world discovered!” came the call as a pegasus newspaper colt flew overhead, scattering flyers for the Canterlot Daily about a crowd that was already clamoring for a full copy, which his earth pony compatriot was only too happy to oblige, collecting bits and tossing out thick newspaper scrolls. I bought one myself, unrolled it and saw… a front-page picture of Princess Twilight beside two creatures I’d never even fathomed existed. They were bipedal like minotaurs, but not as large. They were also furless, wore odd garments, and the picture caption announced their species name was ‘human’. My first impression? Humans were ugly. Hairless apes with squished facial features, possessing spindly-looking appendages on their hooves somewhat akin to griffon talons but looking far more fragile. In fact, as awkward as they looked to me, I was certain that they’d just topple over if you so much as blew on them. Blowing them. Now there was a euphemism I was going to learn in due time… Overcoming my initial revulsion—and judging from the chatter in the crowd, I wasn’t the only one to have it—I read the article. It said that Princess Twilight, while experimenting with a new means of teleportation, had accidentally opened a portal to a new planet, and this was what they had found—a wild world, populated by a race of intelligent bipedal apes called humans. That, somehow, they spoke our language—at least, some of them did—and they had no magic to speak of; incredibly, their sun and moon rose of their own accord and they had no control over their world’s weather. No magic? How could any race advance without it? And their days and nights just… happened? How was that even possible? I couldn’t even begin to comprehend how such a crazy place could actually exist… or a species could survive within it. I got a partial answer to the latter question when I turned the page and saw a picture of Princess Sparkle standing before… this insectoid-looking craft called a ‘helicopter’, made of metal in a very intricate design. Instead of magic, they had ‘technology’, which seemed to serve the same purpose in their world. My mind spun as I continued to read—that they possessed craft that could go hundreds, even thousands of miles an hour, that they had been off their planet and walked the surface of their moon, built enormous cities of towering buildings, and… far more ominously, fought wars where the death tolls numbered in the millions. That was the point I snapped the paper shut, and fervently hoped that we’d do the same to the portal, seal it up to never open it again. I felt very… disoriented and disconcerted, all my travails over Miral suddenly forgotten. I’d been an avid reader of magic and fantasy fiction when I was younger, and those books certainly had their share of alien races. But nothing I’d read even came close to... this! Heading back home to my apartment, I received a note delivered by courier from Delta saying that she would be gone for the rest of the week. She instructed me to clear her schedule for the next ten days of all performances and meetings, authorizing me to make all business decisions for her in the meantime. A mark of trust, to be sure, and one I wasn’t fully certain I was owed at that point as she followed up with an admonition to keep my counseling appointments and not go to any pubs despite the potentially upsetting news. I obeyed—even if I were inclined not to, she had an uncanny way of finding things out you didn’t want her to know. Once I’d taken care of her immediate instructions, I headed back out. I didn’t go drinking but, needing distractions I did return to the Wonderbolts museum to see the remaining exhibits and found myself beside the Bolt Knight/Red Talon memorial once more… suddenly thinking less about Miral and the griffons than the possibility that with the discovery of this chaotic and potentially violent new world and species, such warriors and martial skills might yet be needed again. * * * * * The initial shock wore off rather quickly, as it turned out. The Princesses issued a proclamation making a formal offer of friendship to our new neighbors, Celestia and Luna even going to see their world for themselves. That did cause some consternation, as there was some thought that they might get trapped or even killed there, but nothing happened. They spoke before an assembly representing the nations of earth, touring many over the next several weeks, and were apparently received quite well. The fact that we controlled the portal also helped calm nerves; if it came down to it we could seal it back up. Count me as one of the ones who initially believed it should be—an unthinkable thought for me now, but back then, I was still trying to piece myself back together and didn’t need any new fears or worries involving other species impinging on my still-healing psyche. I think Prince Blueblood actually said it best—a race without magic was a race without harmony or redeem on the eyes of many ponies, and I was one of them, finding humanity with little to offer us. The local newspapers didn’t help. They were always full of lurid tales about human atrocities and weaponry, the pollution and decimation of their world, their propensity for violence and the many wars they’d fought. I remember one picture they smuggled across of an ‘H-bomb’. The image of that fiery, city-destroying cloud gave me nightmares for a week… You know, given how one-sided their coverage of humanity was, I really should have dropped my subscription to the New Yoke Times long before that. When everyone was numb to war stories, they moved on to examining human culture, dissecting everything from their ‘troublesome technology’ to eating and mating habits—the former with disgust over their meat industry, the latter with particular glee in their mocking of human sexuality and nudity taboos. Despite all that, some different opinions were slipping through the cracks. Celestia and Luna reported themselves impressed by what they saw on earth, inviting human diplomats back through the portal in return… though it would be a year before they did so. Out of an overabundance of caution, as it turned out; they didn’t know how magic would affect them and were fearful of diseases passing between the worlds, so the portal allowed for only very limited passage from our side at first. Princess Twilight was likewise a very avid human enthusiast, writing her own far more glowing reports in the Canterlot Daily and other periodicals. During this time, I slowly overcame the post-Miral depression that gripped me, thanks to Delta and my new counselor. After all that had happened, I had pretty much sworn off stallions or any sex for the foreseeable future much as I’d sworn off alcohol, fearful of falling back in the state I’d once been… and truth be told, after Miral, no stallion had satisfied me anyway. Helping was the fact that Delta kept me busy, though she didn’t stray far from Canterlot for a while, giving local performances only. I came to terms with things gradually. More than once I thought of Miral, more than once I thought of writing him, and more than once I started to pick up a quill to do so… only to decide I still needed more time. Before I knew it, nearly a year had passed and my talents as a business manager and concierge were called upon by Delta… To help set up a welcoming party in Cantlerlot Castle for our first human guests. * * * * * Sorry to end this here, but the story of that night requires a whole issue to tell, and I think it appropriate that it be reserved for my milestone 20th article. Needless to say, my destiny was finally about to come calling, and I can honestly say I never saw it coming when it did. Readers will also be happy to know that, as I’ve gotten quite good at turning these out quickly, new articles will now be released weekly from here on out, with the aim of completing them by year’s end. But before that… I leave you with another letter, this one penned by my good friend and former client, Bard of the Royal Court and singer that has now entertained millions on both sides of the portal, Lady Delta Requiem: Dear Five Stars: It’s been some time since we last spoke face-to-face. With the way your last article ended, I knew you’d probably end up sharing what happened in Canterlot afterward. So, I’m offering you this bit of moral support. I’ve said it many times before, and I’ll say it again here: what happened between you and Miral, while rare, isn’t exactly unheard of and is certainly nothing to be ashamed of. While your actions afterward ARE something to be ashamed of, you’ve more than atoned and that night of passion could have been a lot worse. Take it from me, I know how badly nights like that can end. But from reading these articles, it seems to me you’ve had a gift for selecting good lovers if not good herds, and Miral was certainly one of the former. I am truly sorry for his passing, and mourn for his loss in that brief but terrible war. This may come as a surprise to you, Five Stars, since I’m sure I gave the impression that I was celibate while you worked with me, but... I was actually fairly promiscuous in my youth. I won’t go into lurid details, but I’ve felt your pain… more than once, actually. And you know what? After one too many regretted affairs, I finally decided I would be a bit more selective but otherwise wouldn’t regret them anymore. A night of passion is a night of passion, no matter who—or what species—you’re with. You shouldn’t be ashamed of feeling what you felt even if it was partially under the influence of alcohol. On the one hoof, I truly do wish—as I’m sure you do—that you had given Miral a chance, and yet on the other… I think you’ll agree you needed that experience before your first encounter with humanity. Lest any ponies get the wrong idea about me, let me be clear: I was not, as humans say, a ‘town bicycle’ for anypony—or anyONE—to ride. I chose my lovers carefully; even when inebriated, I wouldn’t bed just anypony. And these days, my occupation doesn’t much lend itself to nights of passion; being the Court Bard is a very full-time job. One with great benefits, but free time is a rarity for me. So in many ways, I envy you now. I haven’t been with any humans, but after reading your articles, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought once or twice about hiring a Gentleman myself. If there’s one thing I do regret, Five Stars… it’s that I lost the best manager I’ve ever had to Gentlemen for Mares. And don’t think I’m joking either; your post-Miral episodes aside, you were very good at your job, and I do miss you. Perhaps I’ll drop by G4M sometime to talk… hopefully when there aren’t protests going on. But if there are… well, I think you know I’m not in the least bit shy about expressing my opinions. And perhaps seeing that same quality in you is what made me hire you in the first place. To all who read this letter, let me make one thing plain: what Five Stars does—what Gentlemen for Mares itself does, actually—is not something that should be reviled or hated. She’s helping bring happiness to many who might otherwise never know it, and bringing our races closer together in the process. If that disgusts you, or you feel the need to protest against her and the others at G4M… then as far as I’m concerned, you have no place in polite company, whether on Equestria or Earth. She’s not doing anything morally, ethically, or in any other way wrong, and nothing you narrow-minded delinquents say or do will change that or convince me otherwise. Be glad I wasn’t there… because broken cellphones would have been the least of your troubles. Your friend, Delta Requiem Bard of the Royal Court of Canterlot Thank you, Delta. Yes, I would love to meet and catch up with you sometime, so please let me know when you’ll be in town. Let me also say once more that I’m very sorry for what I put you through, but I’m also eternally grateful it was you. You picked me up when I was at my lowest point, and I don’t want to think what would have happened if you weren’t there. And if you ever decide you desire a gentleman… I’d be more than happy to recommend one! > Part 20: When a Mare Meets a Man > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – When a Mare Meets a Man By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post Magazines October 26 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: Another week, another invasion of our offices and privacy as our latest opponents learned nothing from last time despite hefty fines and court appearances. But then again, why would they? They’re college students, secure in the knowledge of their own intellectual infallibility and the rightness of their causes. Being modern liberal arts majors, it seems that all they really learn is how not to learn. When I said we’d be ready for them, that was both a promise and a goad. We had warning this time—you idiots aren’t the only ones who are tech-savvy; we were monitoring your message boards—and when they broke in, nearly a hundred of them this time waving the usual array of badly-spelled slogans on cardboard, they found a phalanx of humans, griffons and ponies waiting for them, all friends and supporters, blocking their way forward… and back. They were then sealed in the lobby, where the unicorns in the group fried their electronics with a sustained magical burst, preventing them from taking any video, making calls or even listening to music. The doors behind were sealed shut, the windows blocked and lights turned low, and it was then we resorted to the tactics that they later claimed were an attempt to ‘torture’ them… We wheeled in multiple TVs that showed them a series of videos on continuous loop, the volume turned up enough that they couldn’t drown it out with chanting. It was anathema to them, the one thing they could not tolerate, reducing many of them to tears as they were forced to listen, unable to hide behind their smartphones and trapped outside of their echo chambers and without a safe space to retreat to… Different opinions. We showed them online anti-feminist screeds, conservative speeches extolling family and country, undercover videos from women’s health clinics, statistics that debunked their precious talking points, stories and interviews of happy man and mare couples, ugly quotes and threats of violence from their own movement and, direct from Equestria, a recorded speech from Five Stars herself mercilessly mocking them. Through it all, we recorded it ourselves with our own unaffected video equipment, and then posted it online for the entire world to laugh at as we ‘tortured’ them for nearly six straight hours… In other words, we ‘triggered’ them. Repeatedly and gleefully. If your definition of torture is being forced to hear things you don’t want to, then you’ve robbed the word of all meaning. We did eventually let them go, though some were so distraught that they had to be carried out crying. I understand they’re now promising retaliation and to sue us, and my response is: bring it. You broke into OUR offices and invaded OUR privacy twice, yet YOU are the victims here? We did something unfair by fighting back? News flash—we didn’t lay a finger on you; we simply blocked your way and didn’t even bother to press charges this time, because we got far greater satisfaction out of mercilessly mocking you. We will be more than happy to replace your magically-fried cellphones with the surge in online donations we’ve gotten, but that’s just a small fraction of the damage you caused to our offices and printing presses last week. Beyond that, I can think of no better way to tell you to fuck off than this classic Monty Python scene: And Kalido? Forgive me. I know you won’t approve, but it needed to be done. No regrets. And no apologies. Oh yes, and… explicit human/pony action ahead. But hell, at this point that’s what most of you’ve been waiting for, right? —Jamie Kason, acting chief editor, New York Life magazine Manehattan Post Executive Editor’s Note: I’m happy to say that for a change, it’s been All Quiet on the Equestrian Front, to paraphrase a piece of rather depressing human literature I’ve been reading recently. Kalido is wrapping up her sabbatical here in Equestria. We’ve very deliberately NOT told her what’s been going on during her stay, and she’s seemed quite happy to be ‘off the grid’ for a bit, touring Equestria and not worrying about anything. She’ll be heading home next week, I think a much happier woman than when she arrived. We’ve enjoyed having her, and will be plying her with gifts and well-wishes for her return trip through the portal. Hot Topic left as promised in renewed search of her missing Gentleman but has not returned yet. We received a slightly cryptic message from her a little earlier saying she had stumbled on ‘something big’ but nothing more. A followup message said she’d likely be out for another week, and to publish the next article on schedule in the meantime. —Extra Edition, executive editor, Manehattan Post magazine Dear readers— Yes, it’s true, I recorded a little lecture for ‘Operation Trigger Warning’ as Jamie called it, and I was only too happy to do so after our own encounter with these idiots a couple weeks back. My ‘mockery’ consisted of simple, but pointed, questions—How is it ‘equality’ to promote the denigration and emasculation of an entire gender? What is ‘tolerant’ about teaching hatred and attacking others who don’t share your opinions? How is appreciating males and pointing out their mistreatment ‘promoting patriarchy’? And why do you demand everyone else adhere to rules of civility and conduct that you yourselves refuse to follow? Those were just a few highlights of my ten-minute speech. And I even admit to some sense of satisfaction in seeing the hysterical reactions to my lecture via video replay, including a couple young women who charged the televisions shrieking to try and smash them, only to be magically picked up and deposited back in their makeshift seats, forced to watch and listen to it in full… over and over and over. I admit I shouldn’t take pleasure in the unhappiness of others. It’s a very inharmonious and un-pony thing to do. And yet, I couldn’t help but feel that some small measure of justice had been dispensed that day, and slept quite well that night. They may hate me for it, but all I did for those misguided students was what human society has done for ponies many of time—held up a mirror to them. And in the end, they liked what they saw in it no more than we did. I’m not so naive to think that’s the end of it, but maybe at least a few seeds of doubt have been planted. Something that can grow later. I’ll settle for that for now. I’m also happy to say I got closure on another matter this week. Three days ago, my griffon bodyguards asked me to come with them after work, saying they had something they wanted to do for me. They were acting very formal and solemn as they escorted me in a chartered chariot all the way to the Gryphon Consulate here in Manehattan, where I was admitted immediately, somewhat confused, my bodyguards flanking me. I was then met by a phalanx of griffon diplomats in full dress uniforms, who exposed their necks to me in a sign of deference and politely requested I follow them into the consulate courtyard. When I got there, I found… a path leading to a fire, in front of which sat a stone tablet with some personal effects I didn’t immediately recognize… and a line of griffon warriors on either side, fully armed and armored like they were ready for battle. As the ceremony began and the ‘name of the fallen’ was announced, it dawned on me what was happening—it was a memorial service for Miral! Having died in service to the Kingdom, he was given full military honors, which for the Griffins means a show of force in respect for his spirit and sacrifice. I don’t know how, but they had obtained some of his old belongings—his service medals and shoulder pauldrons from his time in the Kingdom’s Auxiliary Guard, and even his silver-and-blue dress uniform which he had kept in his old office, which were now sitting on the tablet in front of the fire. They had been kept pending the dedication of the Cloven War Memorial, when they were scheduled to be ceremonially burned along with the rest of the personal effects of the dead and missing. But at the request of my bodyguards and a surprising intervention by Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, who wrote me a letter saying she was touched by my story, they had been delivered by special courier to the consulate three days earlier for this purpose. I was directed to a seat of honor reserved for friends and family. I listened, tears in my eyes as they read off his list of citations, his service to the Kingdom, and attestations from those who knew him. It was a surprisingly long list, and even included a proclamation from Queen Molyneux herself saying that all gryphons mourned his loss; that his sacrifice held the same weight in the Gryphon Kingdom as the soldiers who died in battle. Upon hearing that, I cried. A funeral medley was sung as their mage made the fire flare high, representing the symbolic cremation of the body and release of the spirit to join his ancestors and the heroes of the Gryphon Nation. Normally, tradition held that his effects would be either given to his kin or destroyed in the fire, but they made an exception for me, inviting me to take them for myself as he had no more family. I took it all and stayed out there half the night as the soldiers stood vigil over his funeral pyre, deciding I could do no less. Upon returning home, I hugged my two bodyguards hard, unable to thank them enough. I slept wearing Miral’s dress uniform that night, the barest trace of his scent still on it. And perhaps in time for Nightmare Night, I have a ghost story to tell. Though I’m not normally one to believe in spirits, I swear I had a visitation that night as I suddenly woke up and found myself on a forest path, walking through the woods until I reached a mist-covered river. The river was impassable, except for this small bridge that disappeared after a short distance into the fog, one I somehow knew I couldn’t cross, leaving me uncertain what to do or why I was there. I got an answer when Miral suddenly appeared out of the mist on the bridge, walking towards me. If it was a dream, it was a more lucid one than any I’d ever known. He told me that he remembered and missed me and was honored by the telling of our story. I told him how sorry I was for how I’d treated him and how much regret I had; in return he held my hoof and told me to never regret what we shared or where it had ultimately led me, promising that in the end I would yet find a special someone out there. In the end, we just sat there hugging until the dream faded. I woke up late the next morning feeling sad, spent… yet strangely at peace. Between the ceremony and the dream, whether the latter was real or not… it was, in a single word, closure. And I swear this wasn’t there before, but I found something stuck in the seam of his jacket, something that brought tears to my eyes yet again… One of his mottled white feathers! * * * * * I had the feather and his medals framed along with the photograph. They now adorn my desk and walls, greeting me whenever I return home. As for his dress jacket, I wore it the rest of the week. It now hangs in my closet beside Braeburn’s vest. It’s funny, but I had always dreaded telling this part of my story for the emotions I was likely to reawaken. But now, I’m very glad I did for the resolution it brought me, granting me healing to a part of my life I thought was forever going to be an open wound. So let me very personally and profusely thank my griffon bodyguards, who request anonymity so they can continue to do their job. You were hired to take care of me, and you very much have. And with that… it’s time. It’s been twenty articles and nearly ten months work on this series, all leading to this one penultimate moment in my life. Year One Let me start by setting the scene. It had been one year since the portal opened. One year, almost to the day since Equestria got turned upside down. Longer than that since I’d returned from the Kingdom a wreck of a mare, and longer still since I was with Miral. I’d done well since Delta had to scrape me off the ground in that alley. Wanting to make things up to her, I’d been the best worker and manager I could for her, and I now knew her business affairs inside and out. She was pleased with me as well, especially that I’d kept my promise to keep with my counseling and not touch cider or any other form of alcohol even once during that time. I also hadn’t had a single stallion—or mare, before anyone asks. It was coming up on the longest drought I’d ever had on that score, yet I didn’t really find myself wanting for it. The two heats I had in that time came and went with the help of nothing more than a cooler... though I’ll admit I pleasured myself to thoughts of Miral more than once during them, imagining what it would be like for him to hunt me down like the predator he was, catching me and taking me again out under the light of the full moon. It was a measure of my progress, at least, that I’d more or less come to terms with those fantasies, though I couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss over them as well. I missed Miral, and yet I also missed what I used to feel for stallions. Miral had supplanted them somehow, and that did bother me. I guess the biggest reason I didn’t try another stallion was not just that my last encounters went so badly, both for my emotional state and trying to force things, but quite simply… none of them seem to do it for me anymore. I didn’t want another pony, I wanted Miral! I wanted his beak, his talons, his wing over my back… and yes, even his tapered organ inside me. Heats were the closest I ever came to finally writing him, but in the end I didn’t because I was afraid to face him after all I’d done and how badly I’d treated him, to say nothing of everyone else around me during that two-month low point in my life. I’m sorry to say, I was still being something of a coward when all was said and done. And it is a sentiment I still rue to this day. * * * * * With the one-year anniversary of the portal opening fast approaching, Equestria was in a bit of an uproar again. Ponies had more or less comes to terms with the news that we now had alien neighbors who were magicless bipedal apes, and the local newspapers had finally gotten tired of reporting on them. All that changed with the news that humanity would finally be visiting us for the first time, in just over a month. As we’d already sent nearly a hundred emissaries to their world over the past year, Princess Luna and Celestia foremost among them, we were inviting an equal number back through the portal to experience Equestria for the first time. I don’t think I have to remind anyone that there were some fears back then of what might happen because of the crossing. On our side of the portal, we weren’t sure we wanted such a potentially violent race admitted to our world. The similarities between humanity’s arrival via interdimensional travel and Tirek’s arrival and subsequent betrayal of our trust was constantly in the back of our minds. It didn’t help that both, superficially at least, appeared eerily similar to one another. We also didn’t know what would happen when human technology was introduced to Equestria; there were even some influential nobles calling for humans to be magically ‘converted’ to ponies for their passing. The utter infeasibility of that aside, I’m relieved to say that Celestia herself strongly vetoed that suggestion, saying that we would welcome our new neighbors as they were, and she would hear no more neighsaying from anypony. For their part, humans were terrified of diseases passing through the portal—a valid concern, given we had no real idea how each other’s worlds might affect us—and very wary of magic, which their science was having a great deal of trouble quantifying and explaining. We had learned by then that Equestrian magic was very limited on earth, which lacked the natural world-infusing aura that ours did. So basic unicorn spells like levitation would work but be weaker, and more complicated spells like teleportation were out of the question. It wasn’t just the unicorns, either. Pegasi noticed that flying was more difficult on Earth outside of the immediate area of the portal (which appeared to have suffused the area around the island with magic over time), and they could exert only very limited influence over Terran weather. Earth ponies were likewise affected in that they weren’t quite as strong or stout, and couldn’t as readily grow crops. Nevertheless, a group of one hundred humans were selected to be the first to cross the portal. Some were diplomats, but most were actually selected from a pool of volunteers that were supposed to represent a cross-section of humanity—different races, different home nations, everything from artists and musicians to scientists and engineers. They were to be greeted at the portal and then escorted to Canterlot, where we would give them the grand tour and all the Equestrian hospitality we could muster… An affair that would be organized in large part by yours truly. Arrival I still don’t know exactly what I did to earn that honor, and at the time wasn’t sure I wanted it anyway. Delta told me she had recommended me to the princesses for the post of liaison and chief organizer, and I was completely taken aback when her recommendation was accepted. I mean, it wasn’t just ordering food and putting up balloons for some party—plenty of other ponies could do that. I had to find them housing and plan out their itineraries; food had to be human-friendly and some had dietary restrictions that were hard to work with—I had never heard of ‘lactose intolerance’ or ‘gluten allergies’ before humans, but all had to be accommodated. And given their omnivorous tendencies, I also had to arrange for at least some meat to be available, which meant working with the griffons for the first time since Miral. I had gotten used to meat-eating well enough back in the Kingdom, but I couldn’t help but feel this whole affair felt rather one-sided—that we were bending over backwards to accommodate our new guests, but what did we get in return? I still didn’t think humanity had much to offer us at that point. A steady stream of anti-human articles in the local papers had taken their toll on many of us, and I simply couldn’t fathom what the Princesses saw in this new race. They were to be here for two weeks—two weeks!—and even though I’d be staying in my home nation this time around, I couldn’t help but feel some dread when the day finally came for them to cross. * * * * * I had done a pretty good job, I thought as I made one last check of my preparations on the morning of their arrival. All the inns and diplomatic quarters were set, itineraries and catering arranged, and I even had a Royal Guard presence along with a few griffon soldiers for the escort; the greeters all carefully screened for contraband and the off-chance that one might be a changeling—the last thing we needed was for one of Equestria’s enemies to upset things at this delicate moment. A few select press members were allowed to be there as well, though we kept most at bay as Celestia and Luna waited by the portal for the first passage of humanity. We didn’t have long to wait. At the appointed time—10am—the portal shimmered and disgorged its first human visitor rather unceremoniously, all but flinging him into Equestria along with his two pony escorts flanking him. One was Princess Twilight, and the other was her brother, Shining Armor, both in full regalia. They both looked surprised at how forceful the passage had been as the human ambassador himself crumpled… And promptly threw up as the cameras flashed. He was immediately attended by several medical ponies, who got him back on his feet, all sides profusely apologetic and embarrassed. We learned only then that perhaps due to their lack of magic humans found the passage through the portal very disorienting, and moving through more than one person or pony at a time tended to double the effect. That lesson was learned quickly at least, though it still didn’t reflect well on humanity for a first impression as each had to be helped through and attended in turn, which took the better part of two hours, already throwing a wrench into my schedule. Finally, all were through and more or less okay, several now looking around in wonder. My impressions? Not good to start—hard to be impressed by a race whose first action upon entering your world is to vomit. They were quite tall, I noted, though they didn’t really outweigh the average pony of their gender, and had many different skin and hair colors. Those colors weren’t vibrant like ponies, however, they were mostly earth tones; various shades of tan, brown, blonde and black, though there were the two human mares (it took me a while to start remembering to call them ‘women’) who seemed to have dyed their manes something unnatural. Their eyes were small but their faces surprisingly expressive, they used many of our gestures and mannerisms, and most seemed impressed by what they saw as they recovered from their passage—crystal-clear skies, vibrant vegetation, many hovering pegasi and unicorns casting spells to various effects. “I don’t think I’m in Kansas anymore,” at least one was heard to say, to some chuckles from the others as they listened to a welcoming speech by Celestia and were then led onto the waiting carriages for the trip to Canterlot. They’d be traveling by trains only; I’d been told well before their arrival humans weren’t big on the idea of flying in pegasi-pulled chariots. Which struck me as odd given I’d heard they’d traveled by air to the portal in their world, but as they were our guests, we would accede to their wishes. Penned Notes The trip to Canterlot took two hours. We took a slightly circuitous route to show our guests some of the sights of greater Equestria, like Neighagra and the Foal Mountains. They seemed enrapt at the sights, talking excitedly among themselves, some holding up these odd objects to the windows, clicking and whirring camera-like sounds accompanying a few. I didn’t know what that was about until I made a walk down the aisle to introduce myself as chief concierge and organizer for their stay. One woman asked to take my picture, so I acceded, expecting some camera to come out, but the only thing that happened was a sudden flash coming from the rectangular object she held in her hand. I wasn’t immediately sure what that was about… until she turned it around and showed me my own image! Princess Twilight, who had been staying with our new guests the whole trip giving lectures and answering questions, giggled at my reactions and for the first time, I started to wonder if there might not be something to what some whispered and generally laughed-at opinions said about human technology being the equal of Equestrian magic. Still, our visitors seemed remarkably backwards in other ways, not the least of which was all the clothing they wore. I was wearing an outfit of my own that covered my entire body and not all that happy about it, doing so as not to offend our guests who I had learned by then had nudity taboos. It was something that one of Delta’s dressmakers had whipped up for me, and unused to wearing things over my hindquarters I found it very inconvenient and itchy. Most of the humans I saw had dressed in suits and ties like Canterlot businessponies—it was uncanny how similar, in fact—but I found my attention drawn to one in particular. He was taller than normal and somewhat reedy in build even by Equestrian standards; he hadn’t even really dressed up for the occasion near as I could tell. No, this one was in simple tan-colored leg-coverings (“Khakis” I would later learn) and a cream-colored, short-sleeved collared shirt with open top buttons and no tie. He wasn’t talking with the rest, but he was taking notes as he watched the scenery go by though his black-rimmed spectacles, writing feverishly on some kind of notepad with a… well, it wasn’t a quill. I didn’t know what to call it. I kept waiting for him to dip it in ink, but he never did and the thing just kept on writing. Curious, I went up and introduced myself. He was initially startled, looked me over from head to toe, his eyes flickering to my covered hindquarters for a moment as he offered me his hand, his fingers open. I had learned from our cultural studies that humans ‘shook hands’ to introduce themselves, but that’s not something ponies can do. Still, I offered my hoof back, and he looked a little confused before realizing something, belatedly curling his fingers inward as to bump his ‘fist’ with my hoof. I found my eyes drawn to his fingers in turn, automatically comparing them to griffon talons. They were smaller and blunter but seemed far more nimble; I watched somewhat fascinated as he involuntarily started twirling his writing implement between the fingers of his other hand in what almost seemed an impossibly dexterous feat, before continuing on writing. I was a little curious, so I asked him what he was doing. I found it somewhat funny when he looked up from his notebook, startled, almost a repeat of a few moments ago. “Oh. Uh, sorry about that,” he said, scratching the back of his head. It was a somewhat endearing, yet familiar, gesture. He also had a slightly odd accent to me; it wasn’t Canterlotian but did sound somehow old-fashioned and upscale all at once. I knew I’d heard it somewhere, though… maybe Trottingham? “Well… I’m a writer,” he explained, showing me his notepad. It was already filled with words and quick sketches. It was, I would grudgingly admit, rather impressive that he drew and wrote far faster than I could writing with a pen in my mouth, and all without magic. He then returned to writing, which would have been rather rude if he didn’t glance at me apologetically. “I want to say sorry in advance if I seem to ignore you. It’s just that everything here is so inspiring.” I looked at him for a moment, watching him glance out the window at random intervals. I looked outside as well. Honestly, I thought the scenery wasn’t that impressive. I must have said it out loud because he replied, “Maybe not for you.” I looked at him, and he was giving me a rather warm smile. “For me, however, the scenery is making the trip worth being spun and squeezed like an old sponge.” I almost laughed at that. Actually, it came out as a snort. “Well, I’m glad you find it rather funny,” he began, his body now taking a somewhat aggressive stance. Yet he never lost his smile, and his tone remained easy-going. “I’d like to see you react from being stretched, spun, and spat out like yesterday’s garbage.” I didn’t know why, but my sardonic reply came out so easily. “Been there, done that, have you?” His smiled widened slightly, showing a bit of teeth. I shivered involuntarily, seeing some sharp edges. For a moment, I thought I might have overdone it, saying something maybe a little too unfriendly. Again, however, something in his expression seemed to mitigate the feeling, as it never fully came out as predatory. In fact, I thought he looked like he was enjoying the conversation. “Too many times to count,” he replied with equal ease. It was a bit disconcerting on how I was starting to enjoy the conversation as well, and found myself wanting it to continue. “What kind of books do you write?” “Oh, nothing much. Just some mystery novels, and thrillers.” I wasn’t sure what he meant by ‘thrillers’, but mysteries were certainly a book genre we had as well; I had gone through a phase as a teenager where I had eagerly devoured every one I could find. My interest was definitely piqued by this strange human. His strange accent, his easy-going nature, but it was mostly his pale green eyes. He was now studying me through them with almost the same intensity as when he had watched the scenery out the window. There was… I didn’t know how to describe it. It was amusement, curiosity, interest, enjoyment, and other subtle expressions in his face. It gave me a strange, yet familiar feeling. Talking to him got easier as time passed, and I used the conversation to satisfy my other curiosities, like the thing he was using to write with. He called it a pen even though I saw no quill feather or tip on it. It was nearly the length of his hand and at least partially metal, though the bulk of it didn’t appear to be, just the ends. I didn’t know what the rest was made of, but there was clip at the upper end which he demonstrated made it ideal for putting in his chest pocket. When I asked how it worked, he took it apart to show me, startling me again with how dextrous his hands were. He had it disassembled in seconds, but there was no way I could do that to such a small object with just my hooves. “The ink is in the cartridge, here,” he held up a very thin object that almost ran the length of the container, half-filled with a dark fluid that somehow didn’t run out the open end. “And it feeds this nub,” he showed me the tip, turning his pen over repeatedly in his hands, drawing a quick line on his notepad to demonstrate. With such a small amount of ink to work with, I was certain it wouldn’t last very long and said as much, but he shook his head and grinned, saying a single ‘cartridge’ could last for weeks. “But doesn’t it dry out?” I next wanted to know as he reassembled it with equal ease. In answer, he clicked the opposite end, which made a sharp sound and caused the nub to retract inside its casing. “Only if I leave it exposed,” he grinned, for the first time taking some pleasure in my startled expression. It didn’t want to admit it, but it was a very clever design, and I could certainly see using that instead of a quill. I had to continue down the aisle, but not before I asked him his name. “John,” he replied (no, that is NOT his real name!) “Perhaps I can regale you with some of my stories later?” He offered, the barest twinkle in his pale green eyes. “Perhaps,” I agreed with a nod and a smile, wondering if it was just my imagination when I felt his eyes on my hindquarters again as I departed. * * * * * After an inauspicious beginning, our guests were feeling much better by the time the train pulled into the station, climbing the mountain and then passing through the gates of the city. If they were intrigued before, they were visibly awestruck by the Equestrian capital, at least one remarking it was a feat of art and engineering that ‘even humans’ would have trouble with, going on to say that he ‘would never have guessed’ we lived in such beautiful cities like that. I overheard that remark and found it a little patronizing—just what did they expect we lived in, barns? And why the surprise over our capabilities?—but I put on my ‘concierge charm’ as Ember had called it so many years back and stood before our guests, smiling warmly and welcoming them personally to Canterlot, announcing the first thing we would be doing is feeding them lunch—a picnic in the Canterlot gardens overseen by Celestia herself. While they were taken in open carriages pulled by earth pony guards, I was rushed ahead by pegasi chariot (flying! Ugh!) to make sure all was in readiness, and naturally little was. The food was not out, the tables were not arranged properly, the musicians were arguing, and Prince Blueblood, who was supposed to be part of the greeting ceremony and sitting at the royal table was nowhere to be found—I later learned he was boycotting the whole affair and would be spending the entire two weeks at his villa in the Dolphin Islands, wanting nothing to do with the new arrivals. I can’t say I was sorry for that given his (now-changed) reputation, but the lack of readiness in the food and entertainment was more problematic. I untangled the mess as best I could, dashing from the kitchens to the courtyard and back, wishing I could teleport like a unicorn could. By the time our guests arrived, the tables had been rearranged, the appetizers were coming out, and the music section was setting up. The latter included some rather notable figures in the Equestrian music realm, including Lyra Heartstrings and Octavia Melody, a harpist and classical musician of some renown. Rather odd how they had both settled in Ponyville… Delta was there as well to lend her singing voice to the occasion; I swore (and not for the first time!) that just her presence seemed to make things run more smoothly. She had actually been at the portal itself for the welcoming ceremony but I’d barely noticed her for all I’d had to do. She caught my eye long enough to mouth ‘well done’ at me, and I gave her a nod and tired smile back. I’d had some rough days as a concierge at the Shemareaton and Mystique, or trying to get things set up for Delta’s performances in the Gryphon Kingdom, but this… A welcoming lunch for an alien race in front of the Princesses themselves was a whole different level of pressure and stress! Yet, I persevered. On some level, I saw it as my final redemption for what had happened the year before, and in the end I’m very happy to say I succeeded. Princess Twilight herself would later commend me on my organizational skills, though I don’t think I realized at the time how big a compliment it was coming from her. Dinner and a Show Lunch went well. Speeches were given, presentations were made, music was played, and Delta stepped up to sing for the group, her voice commanding the attention of all present. A song of what else—friendship. Some of the humans seemed amused we put such a high premium on the concept, but those whispers were quickly silenced as she sang. They may have lacked magic and harmony, but even they could feel her song in their hearts. To my shock, I was invited to the royal table to take Blueblood’s place. “You’ve earned it, Five Stars,” Delta told me, and Celestia herself agreed, offering me public accolades for my tireless work. What could I do except bow? Being in her presence was overwhelming enough, never mind all the additional royalty. The only one missing other than Prince Blueblood was Princess Luna, who had stayed up long enough to greet our guests but was now sleeping and would be handling the evening affairs. It felt unquestionably good to take a load off my hooves, and it was certainly high honor to sit at such an opulent table and partake in a meal with the royals themselves. But it was also quite… awkward, certainly, none more so when our Princess of Love, Mi Amore Cadenza asked me what my initial impressions of humanity were! “They’re… different,” was all I could immediately manage, my memory flashing back to my meeting on the train with John. I spotted him up at one of the outlying tables, and as if sensing my gaze, he turned towards me at that moment, giving me a grin and wave. “Ah… you seem to have caught the attention of one,” the ruler of the Crystal Kingdom teased, and I couldn’t help but blush. “Who is he?” I told her his name, and what he did. “An author? Intriguing…” She nodded. “I’ve read some human books, including several of their romance novels Twilight obtained for me. If they were any indication, human love works quite differently than for ponies. It may interest you to know that their gender roles are reversed from ours—despite being the dominant gender in many of their nations, the males are in fact the suitors, and have to court females.” I blinked. “But that’s completely backwards!” I couldn’t stop myself from exclaiming, which earned a round of chuckles from the table as I quickly apologized for speaking out of turn. Still, my mind was already in motion, trying to figure out how such a thing would work. Males… come to MARES? I wondered, suddenly imagining myself being treated by one, buying me a drink or a meal. The idea brought about an odd and slightly heady feeling that stuck with me for the rest of the day. * * * * * After lunch, the carriages took our guests to their respective quarters, which were scattered throughout Canterlot. After being given some time to rest and get settled—and I myself took the opportunity to nap—they were gathered back up and treated to a grand tour of the city and castle by Princess Twilight herself. As dusk fell, they were returned to the castle gardens for dinner—game meat had been imported from the Gryphon Kingdom for the occasion, the smell of it cooking causing a few ponies to gag—and treated to the display of sunset by the Celestial sisters, Celestia lowering the sun and Luna replacing it with the moon. It was always a very compelling display, even for ponies, but the reaction among the humans wasn’t altogether awe. They had been seen plenty of magic by then and certainly been told that our princesses controlled the sun and moon, but hearing and seeing were two different things. As day quickly turned to night, I saw a few frightened faces and some strange gestures made by at least one human, who made a series of rapid up-and-down and side-to-side motions across his chest. “This isn’t natural…” I heard one say. “Has to be a trick…” another whispered, apparently not understanding that Equestrian hearing was better than theirs given our larger ears. The majority of our guests were fine if slightly shaken by what they saw, but at least three asked to return to earth immediately, unable to cope with it all. They were taken back to their hotel rooms promptly and though one changed his mind, the others were escorted back to the portal the next morning. As darkness fell and Luna’s starry skies became evident, I did see some real awe, many saying they’d never seen such a gorgeous display, making Luna visibly swell with pride. Minotaurian fireworks were then shot off—they were not cheap or easy to obtain, but I’d been given pretty much an unlimited budget for the festivities—and once dinner was complete our guests were invited inside the castle for the first time to visit the grand ballroom and mingle with ponies and the princesses for the first time. Just like they did for the Grand Galloping Gala (for the record, I’d come with Delta to the last one and wasn’t impressed—far from a party, it was just a bunch of a prissy ponies standing around trying to appear self-important), Celestia and Luna greeted each guest in turn, flanked by Princesses Twilight and Cadenza. I noticed immediately that most seemed more than a little nervous around Celestia and Luna now, finally understanding how powerful they really were. Our ruling sisters took it all in stride. Celestia in particular seemed to have a real talent for making conversation, and her smile and gentle word seemed to put most of our guests at ease. In contrast, Luna seemed somewhat fascinated by the technology our guests had brought with them, acceding to many requests for a picture, just as startled as I was to see her image on those screens even after her earlier visit to earth. I think she was flattered and pleased by all the attention heaped upon her. Despite all that, the social got off to a bit of a slow start, human and ponies staying in separate groups on opposite sides of the room. In hindsight, the reluctance on both parties made perfect sense—I mean, how do you get to know a new race? Once again, it fell to Princess Twilight to break the ice. She seemed to know virtually all the human guests, and matched them up with the appropriate ponies. Scientists to arcane theorists. Guardsponies to soldiers. Wonderbolts to uniformed military ‘pilots’. Musicians to singers—I saw Delta talking with one young man who had brought out an large lute-like musical instrument and was playing it for her—and before long, there were many conversations underway, humans and ponies finally getting to know each other. Yet for all that, I saw John again, not really mingling but standing outside a balcony, apparently just staring off to the horizon. I expected to see him writing in his notebook again, but surprisingly, all he had in hand was a drink. My immediate duties done and somewhat curious why he was alone, I trotted over to him dressed in my Gala best and asked if there was anything he needed. It was rather fascinating to watch his reaction. Before my question, he was looking at something with focused intensity, only for my words to snap him out of his reverie. Watching it happen the third time made me realize how easily it came for him to be lost in thought. He blinked for a moment, then focused on me. His face was almost unreadable when he gave me a rather flat “No,” before he gave me an apologetic smile. “Oh, sorry about that,” he added. “I was a little distracted.” Again, it was rather surprising how easy I replied. “You’re always distracted. Are all human writers like that?” “Well…” he seemed to think about that a little. “I’m pretty sure there’s one. Amazing writer, by the way, and very good-looking.” I felt my smile forming. “Oh? And who is this amazing and very good-looking writer?” “I’d rather not say,” he replied smoothly. “It would sound rather conceited.” “Strange,” I began, “because it already sounds very conceited.” “Quite,” he said. “I hear he has that effect on others. Rather dastardly of him, if I have to say.” I chuckled. I couldn’t stop it from coming out, and I felt a little cheated because he had such a victorious expression on his face. I tried to school my expression, but I was pretty sure I was still smiling. Wanting to change the subject, I said, “There is a party going on inside, if you haven’t noticed.” John looked at the scene behind me, before looking back at me and smiling. “Odd. It wasn’t that exciting a few minutes ago.” “A lot of things can change in a few minutes.” “Undoubtedly,” he said, almost dryly. For a moment, I pictured him as Prince Blueblood, and got my blood boiling a bit. “Want to join in?” I asked. “Well, I was never much for mingling,” he began, “even during my secondary school dances. Besides, I haven’t found anyone in there that felt interesting to me.” I frowned at that, knowing there had to be at least one or two pony authors in attendance—this wasn’t the usual court gathering after all; we’d selected our pony attendees to make a good impression as much as as our guests had in selecting the first humans to cross the portal. I decided I’d flag down Princess Twilight later, but for now, with everything in order, I decided to try and talk to him more myself. Breaking the Ice “So… what do you think of Equestria?” I asked him. “Enjoy the show the princesses put on?” To my surprise, he looked uncertain, considerably less confident than he had on the train. “To be honest, all this is rather… overwhelming,” he admitted, frowning. It was the first time I’d seen that expression on his face. “You might be better off asking me after a few days here, and after a few pints as well.” I blinked. Pints? Of what, exactly? But before I could ask, he continued, “I mean, seeing the sun and moon just move like that—“ he paused to wave his hand towards the sky “—it’s a bloody lot to take in.” I still couldn’t fathom how their days and nights just happened of their own accord, but decided it was a question best kept for later. “The Princesses are impressive. But so is much of what you humans can do without magic,” I suggested, trying to draw him out a bit. Maybe it was a holdover from my Las Pegasus days, but I hated seeing someone not enjoying themselves. “The Princesses have nothing but good things to say about humanity. Princess Twilight in particular admires you a lot.” He laughed. “Well, she flatters us, but honestly, moving celestial bodies?!” He rubbed his head for a moment. “Just the concept utterly boggles my mind. Seeing something like just makes you feel so small.” Small seemed an odd term for a race that was so much taller than we were, but I tried to put myself in his shoes—shoes he seemed less than happy to be in, I noted, making scratching motions with his hooves (I didn’t yet know they were called feet) against each other. I remembered how rough my first few days in the Gryphon Kingdom were and how bad my culture shock was; I could only imagine what it was like coming to an entirely new world where all the natural laws were turned on their heads from what they were used to. It was then I remembered the example of Miral, who had taken me under his wing and did his best to make an initially uncertain guest comfortable in his homeland. He’d done it for me and I was forever grateful for it, so it seemed the least I could do was turn around and do the same for this human, right? “Those devices of yours seem pretty magical,” I noted, motioning around the ballroom. “Do you have one of your own?” In response, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled one out, showing it to me. It was a silver rectangle with, oddly, what appeared to be the silhouette of a bitten apple on the back. “So what is this for? Just taking pictures?” I asked him, genuinely curious. He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s called a smartphone—a personal communications device that I can use to call people halfway around the world,” he explained, causing me to gape. “Not here though, unless you installed cellphone towers and launched communication satellites just before we arrived.” His sardonic grin returned. I had no idea what that meant, but at my request he showed me some of its other capabilities—it held massive amounts of music and pictures he could peruse with a simple swipe of his fingers; I was amazed that such a small thing could hold so much. “What kind of music do you humans have?” I asked next. I didn’t tell him that the fact they had music at all surprised me—I mean, how could you create music or sing without Harmony? “Just about anything you could ask for,” he told me with a light laugh, starting to sound more like the man I’d initially met on the train, making me feel better as well—clearly I hadn’t lost my touch in drawing out guests, even when it came to alien races! “Actually, I might have a song or two you’d be interested in. Care to listen?” I blinked. “How can I?” Grinning, he tapped something with a fingertip and music started playing, right out of the device. It was hard to hear and I told him as much, so he brought out these ‘earbuds’ and told me to hold still while he placed them very gently in my ears—they were a little loose, but they stayed put—before resuming the playback. I nearly jumped out of my dress at how loud and crystal clear the sound was even through those tiny speakers, though that surprise only lasted a few seconds as I took in the song. It was martial in nature, a very powerful and rapid beat made with instruments I couldn’t even begin to name, and the sheer energy of it all but swept me up in it: In the skies above the isle, Aces in Exile prevail… From near and far they arrived, joined the force Ready to serve the allied command Sent into training though they already earned their wings They were ready to fly, they were fit for the fight… Just twenty seconds into the song, I was enrapt and my heart was racing. Humans had no Harmony or innate singing ability like ponies, and yet they came up with… this? “You like that, I see,” he grinned, pausing the playback with another tap of his finger. “Here. There’s more. Let me show you the video that goes with it.” A few more taps on his device and the song began again, this time accompanied by a surprisingly clear moving picture on the screen: “I… that’s…” I was at a complete loss for words. It looked like paintings of old battles from the Gryphon War I’d seen in the Wonderbolts Museum, except instead of pegasi and gryphons in combat it depicted aerial duels between these birdlike flying machines I couldn’t even fathom existed. I knew it was a depiction of war, I knew humans were dying in those machines as they crashed or exploded under fire from strange weaponry… and yet I couldn’t look away. It was frightening, it was disturbing, it was confirmation of what some of the papers had said about humans being a violent race… and for all that it was utterly exhilarating. “When did this happen?” I finally found my surprisingly shaky voice. “Nearly eighty years ago, now,” he told me, looking quite pleased with himself. “This song refers to my country’s darkest and finest hour—the Battle of Britain. A time when my island nation stood alone against one of the greatest evils our world had ever known; an evil that had already conquered half a continent and meant to subjugate us as well, trying to break our will to fight by bombing our cities from the air. We were reeling, our allies had fallen and all that stood between us and certain defeat was the RAF—the Royal Air Force,” he told me, almost reverently. “Though badly outnumbered and fighting without rest, the RAF held the line and inflicted grievous losses, forcing our enemies to abandon their plans for invasion and buying us precious time. Time enough for us to build up our defenses and gain a powerful new ally, one that would eventually allow my country to be the stepping-off point for the liberation of the continent,” he went on with great pride. “’Aces in Exile’ refers to volunteer and orphaned pilots from conquered nations who escaped to Britain and fought for her, joining the RAF in hopes of one day freeing their homelands.” If I hadn’t already been sitting down, I would have fallen back on my haunches hard. “I can’t even imagine…” He gave me a curious look. “Come now, my dear Five Stars. I know ponies are peaceful, but take it from an author and student of history—no civilization ever passes or even comes into being without conflict. Surely there are such heroic tales from your nation’s past?” he challenged me. I flashed back to the Gryphon War memorial at the Wonderbolts Museum. He was right, and yet part of me did not want to admit it—admit that ponies had their own less than harmonious history, one that required warriors along the lines of what the song described. “Well…” At that moment, Twilight Sparkle flew up into the center of the room. “Attention, everyone and everypony!” she magically enhanced her voice. “For those who are interested, we are going to be having a showing of human cinema—a fascinating sword-and-sorcery tale called The Lord of the Rings!” There was a smattering of excited chatter interspersed with a few groans from our human visitors. “Is that any good?” I asked John, who was wearing an odd smile. “Quite,” he confirmed, a grin on his face. “It’s a series of three films. Doesn’t hold tight to the books they’re based on, but unless you’re a purist, it’s a very compelling tale all the same. It’s a rousing yarn and if you liked the music and action of this short song, you should definitely like the movie.” If it was anything like that song I wasn’t sure my heart could take it, but I agreed to watch. A Fellowship Forms I went home that night completely and utterly spent. Emotionally and physically, I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so drained. The movie had certainly lived up to John’s promise. Shown in the royal cinema room using a specially made reel, the music was amazing, the story compelling, and the sacrifices of two main characters very poignant and tear-inducing. Frustratingly, the movie had ended on a depressing note without resolution; I was told there were two more movies to come that continued the story. At that point, I had no idea if could survive two more three-hour cinematic spectacles like that, and I wasn’t the only one—many of the ponies exiting the room seemed dazed. In fact, in the end John had to help me walk out, I was so shaky. He even offered to walk me home, which was a very odd offer to me, but I declined, needing to be alone with my thoughts for a bit. As I walked home, the events of the movie played in my head over and over. The depiction of magic was interesting, if a little off even to my undiscerning eye, but what really stuck with me… were the battles. Just the sight of so many males fighting with not a mare to be seen went completely against the grain for me, yet I was assured that was the way it was on Earth. With even gender ratios, their more physically powerful males tended to be the ones who did the fighting, even in a fictional tale—and I had to be assured repeatedly it was fictional; it looked so real on the screen! I barely remembered the walk home, unsure what I was feeling or what was happening to me. What I’d seen, what I’d heard… it all found resonance within me. This new race of humanity was backwards and some would even say barbaric, yet… there was something only too right about them if they could come up with things like this, and all without the magic of Harmony! I didn’t sleep well that night. My heart and my mind simply would not settle down. When sleep finally did come, the dreams were intense, scenes taken from the song and movie, visions of music and war. And yet there was one constant in all of them—John, my first human acquaintance. He was always there, sometimes as one of those ‘pilots’, other times he was fighting in the movie… and sometimes he was just there to hold my hoof, as he’d done once or twice during the movie when he sensed me tensing up. He was like no male I’d ever met; well-learned and fascinating, witty and charming, and as I was thinking about him I suddenly remembered the appraising eye he’d cast on me once or twice. Wait. Was he interested in me? I then recalled what Princess Cadenza had said about how human gender roles were reversed, and it fell to the males to woo mares. But he’d just arrived in Equestria and barely knew me. I mean, surely he wasn’t thinking that way about me… To my great surprise, I felt a nearly-forgotten stirring in my loins at the thought. * * * * * Humanity’s first week in Equestria passed surprisingly quickly. Once our guests had gotten more or less settled and into a routine, there was less need of my services. The remaining two movies were shown by popular acclaim—I’m pretty sure Princess Twilight knew there would be a demand for them, so she had them available as well. My fears were not unfounded—the second movie was even more intense than the first, and the disconcerting presence of large Terran horses and their use as war mounts didn’t help matters. I understood they were not intelligent, to say nothing of undeniably ugly to pony eyes, yet it was still hard to watch them used in battle. Worse, John told me their depiction was accurate—that humans did ride them, and that was how they’d been used in human warfare as recently as a century earlier. And yet, once again I couldn’t look away, even through the brutal battle of Helm’s Deep. It brought tears to the eyes of many a mare to see old men and young boys drafted for the defense of the fortress, taken from their families and mothers and given weapons that they had no idea how to use; I think more than a few of us wanted to leap right through the screen to protect them. Of those watching, however, there was one mare that I noted maintained a stoic expression through all the bloodshed: Delta Requiem. After the movie’s conclusion, I asked her about what she thought. Her response was surprisingly sensible, and vaguely disappointing; “I’ve already seen all of them, the shock value’s worn off for me,” she shrugged, her tone carefully measured. It might have just been my imagination, but I got the impression that her initial reaction to the movies had been far more emotional, not unlike my own. Princess Twilight left a day’s gap between each movie to make sure we could absorb it all and emotionally recover before seeing the next. A good thought, as I don’t think I could have taken watching them back to back. By the time the third movie was shown, I found myself much more numb to it. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, but I did note with satisfaction that the key to final victory was only too familiar… Friendship. Friendship between races, friendship between nations… and the simple bond between two hobbits that allowed them to destroy the movie’s namesake and defeat evil along with it. It was undeniably epic, and the poignant note it ended on left tears in many eyes one last time. John was with me for both movies, occasionally whispering explanations or interesting asides—like how Aragorn’s actor had broken his toe when he kicked an orc helmet, making his scream all the more anguished, or how Saruman’s actor was originally supposed to play Gandalf. Several times I found myself pressing against him hard, resting my head on his shoulder or just clutching his arm. Sometimes it was to seek comfort, others it was out of a mare’s instinct to protect a stallion as I had a very irrational but nonetheless real fear that was he was going to be swept up in the movie fighting. In response, he started laying a hand on my shoulder or withers, pulling me closer, trying to reassure me. We ended up walking the gardens and talking outside for several more hours. He offered to walk me home again, but I demurred, reminding him that if he did, he’d have to stay the night given that humans weren’t allowed to walk the city without escorts yet. “And would that be such a bad thing?” he asked with a cocksure grin—something I noted he’d been wearing more and more as his stay had worn on, and his sharp wit was starting to come out in full force as well. “Does my company displease you, my good lady?” I stared at him a moment but, suddenly flustered, I couldn’t think of any witty comeback of my own. “Goodnight, John,” was all I said, turning away before he could see the flush of my cheeks. An Invitation Accepted The next day was the sixth of their visit. There were no tours or group events scheduled, making it an off-day for me, so I took John to the Wonderbolts Museum, reasoning as an author and self-described ‘student of history’ he’d be interested in it, doubly so given that song he had. I was right—he seemed fascinated by it all, especially the Gryphon War exhibits, closely examining the old armor and wingblade harnesses. Before long, we ended up in front of a large painting depicting the seven founding members of the Bolt Knights in battle: Blindside, Sky Sentry, Wind Whistler, Thunderbolt, Fell Flight, Swift Strike… and their leader, the indomitable Captain Firefly. John meticulously read through every caption and description. He was visibly impressed by their story, finding it only too familiar. “Never before was so much owed so few,” he said softly to himself. I recognized that as a line from the song, and asked him about it. “It was a paraphrase of something said by our Prime Minister at the time, Winston Churchill. He was referring to the pilots of the RAF. Given what I’m reading, it would appear it applies here too,” he shook his head in wonder. He wasn’t allowed to take pictures, so he feverishly sketched what he saw, filling out page after page of his notebook, leaving me fascinated anew at the rapid, practiced motions of his hands and fingers. The latter were easily the equal of unicorn magic in manipulating objects, and I had no idea how he could wield and move them independently like he did. He knew I was watching his fingers in motion, always giving me a teasing smile that seemed to anticipate my questioning. Maybe it was a little petty of me, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. I was pretty sure he knew that too, and his smile would get even more annoying. Not as annoying as him constantly opening doors for me, though. I gathered that was a thing men did for women in his world, but the novelty wore off rather quickly, especially when he seemed to go to rather extreme lengths to beat me to it. I was beginning to hate the humans’ longer stride. We ended up spending the entire afternoon there, and I treated him to dinner at the local Chineighse place afterwards, which surprised him, both for the food being strangely similar to something he knew on earth and the fact that I was buying. He protested that on his world, the males treated females and not vice-versa. I raised an eyeridge at the statement—no matter how many times I saw evidence of their reversed gender roles it still surprised me. “Well, you don’t exactly have bits to spend,” I reminded him with a grin. “And your company is payment enough.” I wasn’t sure where that came from, except that I really was enjoying spending time with him. Initially I’d just been trying to help him overcome some initial jitters, but he’d ended up helping me as much as I’d helped him, and greatly broadened my horizons in the process. I was honestly starting to think of him as a friend. And if the growing tug on my thoughts were any indication, possibly even more than that. * * * * * We lingered again over the remains our meals, the company good and the conversation better… though I think the owners were hoping we’d leave, made uncomfortable by the tall and potentially meat-eating alien in their establishment. He regaled me with more tales of his life and home nation, his thus-far modest success as an author, and even asked me to tell me about my life in return. Surprised again—mares were supposed to let males talk about themselves, not the reverse—I initially demurred, telling him that my tale was not worth recounting. But in the end he pried it out of me, wanting to know how I’d gotten to where I was. So, I relented and told him about my herds and lovers, the jobs I’d held… and Miral. He saw my expression drop when I talked about him and my previous trip to the Kingdom. “A griffon, you say?” his expression went thoughtful for a moment, rubbing his chin with his hand as he considered his next words. “Wow. Guess you really aren’t enemies with them any more. Sounds like you still have feelings for him.” I made the admission that months of therapy finally allowed me to. “I do,” I acknowledged, my eyes closing tightly for a moment. “So what was so special about him?” John wanted to know. That caught me short. “Well…” Hard to believe, but it was something I didn’t have an immediate answer for. It was something my therapist had encouraged me to explore ‘when I was ready’, but that day never quite seemed to arrive… until now. “He was… different,” was all I could immediately come up with. “He was…” “Exotic?” John suggested with a slightly wry grin, leaning forward in his seat—he’d gotten used to lower pony benches and chairs, though he did still find them a little awkward at times. Like all our visitors, he’d also had to learn the hard way to duck his head through doorways that were generally too low for him; it’d taken a few bumps before he’d finally remembered. “Very,” I chuckled, my mind flashing back to that night in the field, remembering our round and all that had followed it. My eyes glazed for a moment at the memory, but I quickly shook it off, not wanting to get turned on in front of my new human friend. “Not just that; he was sweet and a genuine friend. But… things happened too quickly. I just couldn’t deal with it afterwards and it left me an emotional wreck.” “I’m sorry,” he went downcast, looking genuinely sad for me. “Still, I admire you, Five Stars.” That earned him an odd look. “You admire me?” “Sure,” he said, taking a draw of his drink. “What you did is something humans would have a great deal of trouble with—experiencing love and physical intimacy outside your own race. That’s a level of trust and tolerance precious few ever achieve. From what you’re saying, such a relationship is… unusual, even here.” “It is,” I confirmed. “But not unheard of. I guess in the end, I just wasn’t ready.” He looked like he wanted to ask something else, but thought better of it. “Well, it is getting late… can I walk you home?” he asked hopefully. I couldn’t help but laugh. “You don’t give up, do you?” His wry grin grew. “Well, they are letting us stay out past curfew now,” he reminded me. “But you still have to be escorted. If you came with me, you’d have to stay the night,” I reminded him back, surprised at sudden giddy feeling that was trying to take hold of me. Something I hadn’t felt since… My thoughts were scattered as he answered. “Milady, I assure you on my honor and my knee I will bear up under such cruel torment as you describe!” He put his hand to his chest as he spoke, causing me to burst out laughing as he affected an olden noblepony accent. “Well, then. Who am I to resist the wiles of a writer?” I wondered aloud, the giddy feeling starting to grow again. “Sure.” “Let us be off, then!” he said brightly, looking very eager as we settled our bill. We turned towards the exit, and upon seeing the door, I glanced at John. He looked back at me, grinned… and then as one, we ran for it. Annoyingly, he beat me to it again. A Man and a Mare We arrived at my apartment just ten minutes later. I had chosen that eatery because it was close to home, because I knew he could eat most of what was in there… and in hindsight, because it gave me less room to back out if he wanted to come home with me. It’s weird, but even at that point I wasn’t quite sure how I was thinking of him. He wasn’t a stallion, he wasn’t Miral, but he was very definitely male—the most unusual and yes, exotic male I’d ever met. He didn’t act like a pony or griffon, and I didn’t know at that point how typical he was of humans. To me, he was just… John. And increasingly, I liked John. I unlocked the door and let him inside before he could open it for me. He gave me an exasperated look. I felt myself grinning. “Yes?” I asked. “I’ll give you this one,” he replied, ducking his head slightly to enter, “however, I still have a leg-up on you on the door-opening game.” “Whine, whine,” I said, closing the door behind me. He looked around. It wasn’t that much—a small living area with a sofa and table I used for reading, a study where I wrote letters and handled most of Delta’s business affairs, a kitchen with an icebox I’d barely touched since our guests had arrived, now bereft of pretty much everything except some old eggs and apple juice. “Make yourself at home,” I invited him. “I can offer you some water, or some juice…?” I winced at my lack of refreshments, but then again I’d hardly planned on having one of our human visitors over as a guest! “Water’s fine, thanks,” he replied, looking around as I lit and turned up a lantern, casting a warm orange glow throughout the room. “Sure. I’ll get it for you in a minute,” I said, stepping in to my washroom to use the toilet. One thing I did not like about the clothing I’d been wearing is it made doing my business more difficult, and that combined with the fact that one of the first things I did when I’d gotten home was shed my clothes meant that I forgot to redress afterwards, exiting and walking to the kitchen, passing through the living room to do it. Or maybe somehow I meant to do it. Either way, I didn’t realize my mistake until I brought the water out to him and noticed his cheeks were quite red. “What?” I asked, only to answer my own question when I realized what his wide eyes were taking in. My own eyes went wide as well. “I’m s-sorry, I’ll dress immediately!” I turned to leave, unable to believe I’d made such a stupid faux pas—they’d drilled human nudity taboos into us over and over in the lead up to the visit, and made clear we were to remain dressed around them at all times. “No! No. Really, it’s…” he had a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, and his spicy smell was getting stronger. I haven’t mentioned it yet, but humans, I’d figured out by then, actually smelled pretty nice. Earthy, sweet, sometimes spicy, but almost always pleasant to the Equestrian nose. “It’s fine. You shouldn’t have to accommodate me just because we humans can be such terrible prudes about such things. I know it’s normal for you. And…” he swallowed as he said his next words. “Truth be told, I’m rather enjoying it.” Well, he was half-right—it was normal for most ponies, but not so much in the confines of Canterlot, where clothing tended to be a bit of a status symbol. Still, the last thing he said gave me pause. “Enjoying it?” Enjoying… ME? “Very much,” he confirmed again, his eyes roving over me and for the first time I heard a nervous note in his voice. “I find you very… pretty.” That had to be one of the clumsiest compliments I’d ever heard, but it was one you’d hear so rarely from a stallion to a mare. I sensed his eyes on me again, but when I turned back towards him, he was looking to the side. However, his flushed cheeks gave him away. Okay. I wasn’t imagining this, he was ogling me. Eyeing my bare form and particularly my hindquarters, which he hadn’t seen before. “See something you like?” I couldn’t resist asking as I sat down on the adjacent sofa and lounged out, putting a little wriggle in my hips, seeing what kind of response I could get from him. His flush intensified. “Well, uh…” he shifted slightly. “I was admiring… your cutie mark,” he finally managed. “I like it a lot.” “Oh?” A flush was starting to creep into my cheeks as well. I stared at him a moment, then grinned, my eyes turning hooded. “Like a closer look?” I got off the sofa and all but sauntered up to him, presenting my flank for inspection. What are you doing, Five Stars? I asked myself through the flush in my cheeks, but the only answer I got back was… something I very much needed to. John went a deeper hue, but forced his pale green eyes to look. “Well. Um… as it consists of five stars, I get that’s what you’re probably named for, but… the orientation of the stars is odd. What does it mean?” He said, sitting down and putting his hands in his lap what to my eyes seemed slightly awkwardly, I swore I could all but feel the heat coming off his body. “Well, I got my name long before my cutie mark…” I told him, trying to focus, going on to explain that they came from the logo of my late father’s aborted hotel chain, and in turn from a constellation said to be particularly favored by Princess Luna. It wasn’t easy. I was really starting to enjoy the effect I was having on him, this exotic male from another world whose rules were completely different than my own. And most of those rules, it seemed, worked in my favor as he was both admiring and paying deference to me! It was an undeniable turn-on, feeling like I was being appreciated just for being a mare and not just taken for granted as one… If only our stallions behaved that way! My thoughts now turning decidedly sexual as they’d been threatening to do all evening (if not all week!), I went with it. Maybe it was the earlier memories of Miral, maybe it was a yearlong drought finally catching up with me, maybe it was I’d finally come to terms with things, or maybe it was just the attraction brought about by exoticness, much as had happened before. But was that enough? I suddenly wondered, reminding myself of what had happened with Miral—was I going to make the same mistakes all over again? No, I sensed. This wasn’t like before. I didn’t have any alcohol in me this time, and I wasn’t being blindsided. What happened with Miral was pretty much a bolt from the blue, but I think deep down I’d sensed this coming for some time; pretty much ever since I first spoke to him on the train. And thus, when he asked if my mark was part of my fur somehow, I replied with a final, fateful question: “Would you… like to touch it and see?” He just about fell out of his seat. * * * * * “You’re… you’re sure?” he asked, his cheeks now very flushed, and the front of his ‘shorts’ visibly ‘tenting’ to use two terms I didn’t even know by then. In response, I grinned and shifted a little closer, turning my rear fractionally towards him. “Feel free.” “O-Okay…” He made several halting motions with his hands before he finally worked up the courage to do so, laying them on my flank. A wave of warmth went through me at the contact, only redoubled when he began to run his fingers through the fur of my flank, centered around my cutie mark, and I couldn’t help but take a sudden breath. “It… it…” he started to knead the area in more earnest, seemingly unable to restrain himself. “It really is just fur…” he finally admitted, his own breathing starting to come harder and quicker. My doubts fading and internal boundaries quickly falling—somehow, I sensed this was not wrong, but only too right—I got more teasing and shameless. “If you aren’t convinced, try the other flank as well!” I offered as I turned completely away from him, facing my hindquarters directly at him, the heat and almost-forgotten scent of arousal starting to come thick off my marehood. But I didn’t display it—not just yet, even as I heard him take a shuddering breath as not one but two hands were now placed on my hips. It was just like Miral’s talons on me, except—even better! (blasphemy!) His fingers weren’t sharp so they didn’t scratch, but they could knead—oh, could they knead! I found myself wriggling my hips back into his grasp trying to soak up more of his touch as he began running his hands up and down my sides and over my hips repeatedly. More than once I felt his thumbs trailing more than once back towards my nethers like he was trying to work up the nerve to explore them; I could only imagine what it would be like to have those wonderfully dexterous, probing fingers inside me! The thought alone made me wet with anticipation, but still he didn’t make a real move for it. “You can go further, you know…” I told him, my voice now audibly husky. “I wasn’t sure…” he admitted slowly, his hands still not moving off his flanks, fingers flexing hard against them. “I don’t know all your body language or how you say yes.” An odd question, given I certainly hadn’t said no, and one I wouldn’t really understand why he would ask until recently. “Well, let me give you a free lesson on mares, then.” I grinned, wishing I could see his face for what I was about to do. “Here’s the biggest cue that she’s ready and eager…” With that, I flagged my tail, displaying myself fully to him—letting him see my swollen marehood and wetness with his own wide eyes, winking the opening at him, hard. Judging by the sudden hurk! sound he made, he nearly came in his pants. * * * * * The next few minutes are but a blur of memory to me, even as at the time they felt like they were taking a small and very pleasurable eternity. As ready as I was and erotic as I found the idea, I nearly climaxed myself at the first touch of his fingers to the lips of my marehood, an explosion of tingling sensation that caused my legs to buckle, hard. It was the first time I’d had human hands explore me, but as many a Gentleman can now attest, definitely not the last! It was all I could do to hold on and not come too quickly as he stroked, stretched and stimulated me with those wonderfully blunt talons of his, ones that reminded me of Miral’s yet were far more nimble and agile, able to go places and do things his couldn’t. They probed me deeply, inserting one, then two fingers, their reach and range of motion finding sensitive spots I didn’t even know I had, taking me to ever greater heights of ecstasy, leaving it all I could do to continue standing. But John wasn’t done yet. “You’re… you’re so… this is… I’m just… ” he was a writer, and yet at that moment he never quite seemed able to complete a sentence, letting his actions speak for him. If I’d thought nothing could equal what I was experiencing, he quickly proved me wrong as I suddenly felt a new sensation—hot breath washing over my nethers. My eyes snapped open and I realized his intention just before his lips contacted my own. At that, I did collapse against him. “Mmmmph!” Unable to stand, I buried my head in a cushion from the adjacent sofa, my loins afire from his efforts as he worked me with fingers and tongue in an act so few pony stallions would ever perform. He was like all my lovers rolled up into one at that moment—every bit as good as Cayenne, every bit as desirable as Braeburn, every bit as eager and wanting to please as Cruise Control, every bit as fun and kinky as Aces up and Double Down… and yes, even every bit as exotic and erotic as Miral. I moaned. I writhed. I couldn’t imagine how anything could ever be better than what I was now experiencing! This wasn’t just rutting, he was making love to me as precious few males ever had! Worshipping my pony form, my very femininity… If this was what humanity was about, then why had we ever feared them? I don’t know how long we spent like that. Like I said, it’s blur now—a beautiful blur of pleasure and ecstasy, to say nothing of the sheer rightness of an act that I would have been appalled at anypony even suggesting before they arrived. And yet, now here this alien male was… in my apartment, attending and pleasuring me as nopony ever had… I guess in some senses, he was the very first Gentleman! When I finally did come—it might have been the moment he started sucking on my clit; I really can’t remember, I was so lost in the moment—It was like a supernova or storm breaking a yearlong drought in the Kingdom. It was wonderful, it was magical, and it’s no exaggeration for me to say I felt reborn at that moment. I rediscovered who I was, remembered what I’d willfully deprived myself of for so long as for the purposes of penance and healing… And learned what my real purpose and destiny was to be. Needless to say, I came so hard I passed out, screaming my new lover’s name. This is not the end of our story. Far from it in fact, but… well, I need to take a break. As you might well imagine, this is a very heady and emotional tale for me to tell, and though it’s certainly for entirely good reasons this time, I still need to step back from it for a bit. I’m aware that I’ve probably given enough information in this story for John’s true identity to be guessed, but that’s fine this time—I’ve already been in touch with him, and he’s given permission to reveal his real name. I already have his letter in hoof to share, and will do so at the end of the next article. Until then… I hope you’ve enjoyed what has been in some ways the true climax of this story, both figuratively and literally! This was a pleasure to tell, and I’m not done yet. And to all who may still neighsay for whatever reason, whether herd traditionalist, religious conservative or the so called ‘social justice’ crowd on earth, I’m sorry you still can’t see how stupid and self-serving your objections really are. What John and I did, what Gentlemen and clients do, what humans and ponies do… is wonderful, beautiful, and helps cement the bonds between our races and worlds. At the end of this story, at the end of twenty articles, all I can ask now is… How is any of that wrong? > Part 21: A Night To Remember > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – A Night to Remember By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post Magazines November 2 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: I’m back! Tanned, rested and ready, and wondering just what the hay I’ve returned to (hard not to pick up some Equestrian idioms when you spend a month over there!) I’ve been filled in on what happened during my absence, certainly, and can only shake my head in wonder and disgust. Invasions of our building, damage to our printing presses, our workers now under threat from the so-called social justice crowd… and a visit to our offices by no less than Prince Blueblood. As a young girl, I was always taught to turn the other cheek in the face of bullies and insults. As a teen, particularly one who grew up in a working class neighborhood, I learned the limits and general ineffectiveness of that advice, and as an adult, I came to believe that the courts and simple common courtesy were the proper recourse when your good name and very livelihood were attacked. For the most part, I still believe that holds, but one thing this trip and spending some serious time with Hot Topic, whose philosophy on running a large publication is certainly far more direct than mine, taught me was that there’s a time you have to take a stand on your own behalf, and not count on others to do so for you. In the end, that’s what Jamie did, and I daresay the simple sense that we were standing up and fighting back for real did more for morale here than any previous court ruling or statement of support. Officially, I have to reprimand him for actions unbecoming a journalist, making himself part of the story. Unofficially… well, at this point, I wish I was more like him. I’ll start trying to be now. It would seem I’m returning to something of a hornet’s nest again, though being far more rested and plied with gifts and well-wishes from my new friends in Equestria, I’m ready to face the music and our latest adversaries, who clearly have little idea of anything out of their insular little social justice cliques. To that end, I’ve compiled a list of the universities they attend and ordered their schools stricken from our internship program. Since they see fit to boycott us for the high thoughtcrime of publishing Five Stars’ articles, we will now boycott them. Until there are serious changes and some administrators in those places that display some actual horse apples (to use the pony vernacular) and start reining this idiocy in, we will not recruit in such places and I have ordered our lawyers to start drawing up a lawsuit aimed at not just the students involved but their colleges themselves, for enabling and supporting their lawbreaking. Now that those unpleasantries are dealt with, down to business—here comes another of Five Stars’ articles. Yes, that means yet more explicit human-pony content ahead, and worst of all, a mare singing the praises and sexual prowess of a man. I know, we’re terrible people, promoting patriarchy or bestiality depending on who we talk to and what day of the week it is. Excuse me as I toast our evilness with some imported Sweet Apple Acres Special Reserve Cider, stronger than whiskey and smoother than sake. Or in the words of its makers, “kicks like a mule, tastes like a million.” —Kalido Tenna, Chief Editor, New York Life Magazine Manehattan Post Executive Editor’s Note: To our readers, old and new, from Earth and Tellus alike— We have lost all contact with Hot Topic, who has not been in touch with us in over a week now. She’s done this once before, when she went deep undercover to expose corruption in city hall, so we hope that’s what’s happening again. Still, it’s not like her to suddenly just drop out of sight, and we’re getting worried. It would seem the disappearance of her Gentleman was merely the tip of the iceberg, but after a recent HERD-inspired attack on one of Five Stars’ former herdmates (a story kept out of the papers until today, one we will now leave to Five Stars to tell), there are certainly ponies out there who may wish her injury or even worse. I would never say she couldn’t take care of herself—she’s one of the toughest mares I know—but Hot Topic, if you are reading this… please be careful and remember if you need us, we’ll come flying. Let us know you’re okay if you can. And yes, another lurid article from the mistress of men, Ms. Five Stars, is ahead. For the sake of fragile psyches and feeble-minded, we offer this ‘trigger warning’: explicit and indecent interspecies action ahead. —Extra Edition, executive editor, Manehattan Post Magazine Dear readers— Well, it’s been awhile, hasn’t it? I apologize for not getting this article up in the last issue as scheduled, but something very serious came up. Readers may recall that in a previous article, I received and published a letter from the lead mare of my first herd, Harvest Moon. In the letter, she claimed that she’d changed her ways after losing control of the Shemareaton, and asked for the chance to mend fences. I declined, stating that that wound was simply too deep and I had my doubts as to how sincere she was. Looking back, I now regret that decision fully. Within this issue of both magazines is a singular article from Harvest herself. She wrote it and I very happily edited it for her, and now will excerpt part of it here: “Sign here, please.” Three small words, those. Ones I’d heard many a time before; ones I’d said myself many times. Words ponies everywhere hear multiple times throughout their lives. But this time was different; this time, it felt like the lawyer’s words were that of the human Devil, and I was signing away my soul. In some respects, I was. The Shemareaton had been my pride and joy for many years, the fruit of all my labors. I’d built a power base in Manehattan as the hotel’s head, and had enjoyed the influence that came with being in a position of prestige and power. And all of it was now crashing down, as I signed this one last paper: the notice of sale. It was unavoidable; according to the board of investors, the loss in profit in recent months was being attributed directly to my presence at the hotel. While I could potentially keep the hotel afloat with my own sizeable savings, that would have been a delaying action, at best. The board had made it clear that if the Shemareaton was to survive, I would have to leave. Celestia’s mane, that’s a pill to swallow! I thought, as I signed the paper. Buck Five Stars, anyway! How could she do this?! From what I’d been able to glean from my network of contacts, the erstwhile member of my old herd had somehow turned public opinion in Manehattan against me; this in turn had caused the loss in profit that the hotel had seen. I couldn’t wrap my head around it; how could Five Stars, an earth pony with no truly outstanding attributes except an uncanny knack for annoying me, have managed to sway an entire metropolis against me? Finishing my signature, I passed the notice back to the attorney. He looked it over, nodded, and rolled it up, putting a legal seal on it. “Our business is concluded, then. Farewell, Ms. Harvest Moon.” I nodded curtly in reply and turned to leave, pausing only to grab my luggage from next to the door. I’d prepared for this day by packing my entire life into two large saddlebags, as well as a larger trunk that I secured to my back. While my lifestyle had been rather sedentary as of late, I was nonetheless an earth pony, which meant that my strength was still enough to carry several times my own weight on my back. I walked towards the front door of the Shemareaton, all the while thinking, This is just a minor setback. There will be plenty of opportunities for a mare like me in cities beyond Manehattan. All I have to do is reach out for them… With that in mind, I walked out the front door, for what would be the final time. That is just the opening of her story, which describes her departure from Manehattan and events to follow… culminating in a HERD-inspired attack on her and another member of my first herd, Ember Iris, former lounge entertainer at the Shemareaton and now a superstar singer in Las Pegasus, who was on vacation in Ponyville with her herd. While the attack was ultimately unsuccessful, Ember suffered a broken wing and Harvest was gravely injured during the encounter when she… well, I’ll leave that story for her to tell. All I’ll say here is that we feared the worst when she wouldn’t wake up after the surgery. Yes, I said ‘we’. Ember, Acacia, and myself stood vigil over Harvest for a full week following the attack. When I heard what had happened, I departed Manehattan promptly. As much as I’d detested her after being forced from my first herd, I never truly wished ill of this sort on her. And when I heard that she’d gotten so injured saving Ember’s life, I realized that I’d neglected to take the advice I myself gave within the same article I published her letter in—namely, to keep in touch with people from your past, lest you be denied the opportunity to do so in the future. I learned that lesson the hard way with Miral, and nearly had to do so a second time here. Harvest is now recovering nicely, with Ember looking after her until she gets discharged from the hospital. I offered to recommend a Gentleman to her, one who specializes in physical therapy, and she said she’d definitely consider it, to my delight. After such a selfless act, we’ve made amends now—by which I mean not just me but all former members of my first herd (even Cayenne, who sent me a video recording of his own well-wishes to share with Harvest!). She has more than earned our forgiveness, and I will take care to keep in touch with her from now on. I had thought the HERD crowd had been dealt with, discredited and dismembered to the point it was no longer any threat. My mistake. It grieves me greatly now that all former herdmates of mine may have to watch their collective backs, though in the case of Ember and Acacia, I’d remind those who may wish them ill that they’re backed by two stallions who will not hesitate to deal harshly—and very inharmoniously—with any threats to their mares or foals. Cross them at your peril, folks, as the remaining HERD members of Ponyville learned the hard way. As for myself… two griffon veterans of the Cloven War stand ready to defend me, and make no mistake—even without them I’m no pushover. Having won a round with a griffon before, I’m fully capable of defending myself, and have plenty of friends in high places. Come after me or my former herdmates again, then in the words of my first human lover, I’ll make bloody sure you regret it. But enough not-so-idle threats. For now… back to the story of me and John, picking up mere minutes after he’d given me my first time with a man and earth-shattering orgasm in the living room of my Canterlot apartment. The First Gentleman I awoke a half-hour later to find my head cradled in John’s lap, my body now covered with the throw blanket off the back of my couch. Still drifting a bit, I focused with some difficulty on his face, feeling like I was all but floating. “Welcome back, Five Stars,” he told me with a note of relief, kissing me on the forehead. “You kind of scared me there…” I stared back at him in a daze. “S-scared you?” “When you, well, screamed and collapsed there. I wasn’t sure why. May I assume it was good?” he asked with the air of a stallion who was trying to make sure his chosen mare had actually enjoyed herself. My only response to that was to stare at him in wonder, then prop myself up and kiss him, full on the lips. That actually didn’t work too well at first as our faces and muzzles weren’t shaped the same (which is why one of the first lessons we teach Gentleman about intimacy is proper kissing technique!), but we finally figured it out and I thanked him properly, raining kisses on him. “You don’t know how much I needed that…” I told him, hugging him tightly and gratified as he reciprocated, snuggling me close as so few stallions had done over the years. “Are all men like you…?” I had to know, an eager note of hope in my voice. “Are all mares?” he rejoined, running his hands over me again, visually marveling anew at the feel of my fur and exotic form beneath his fingers. “I’ve never seen a woman so eager or enjoy a small spot of foreplay so much!” he explained, his cheeks flushed. I gaped at him in disbelief. That was just foreplay? He’d brought me to one of the most powerful climaxes I’d ever had! And how could a human mare not like this kind of treatment? “A ‘spot of foreplay’? I mimicked his accent for a moment, then proceeded to explain exactly why I was so astonished. “By Celestia, John, that was better than a lot of ruts I’ve had!” I laid another kiss on him and then began yanking at his shirt buttons with my teeth. “What you did for me… stallions almost never do!” He looked back in some confusion but made no effort to stop or resist me as I began to undress him none too gently; I broke one of his buttons in my desperation to get those ridiculous garments of his off and see him for what he really was. “Never do what?” He watched me in some amazement as I all but attacked him, looking half-excited, half-worried as he perhaps wasn’t entirely certain of my intention—as disheveled and desperate as I was at that moment, I must have looked like a wild animal to him! I spared him but another glance as I continued my efforts, finally freeing half his chest, the sweet and not unpleasant smell of his body mingled with the spiciness of his arousal all but wafting off him, making me even more heady. He really didn’t understand, and that just made him—and human men in general—even more desirable and endearing in my eyes! “Most stallions just want to rut a mare. We’re expected to see to their pleasure first! And they certainly don’t give oral!” I explained very shortly to him, eager to return the favor—I’d be the first mare to have a human in history, and whatever he was hiding in his pants, I now wanted it in my own muzzle, my mouth watering at the thought! He blinked in genuine surprise both at my words and my strength as I all but shoved him on his back so I could yank his shirttail free. “They… don’t?” “No!” I said very breathlessly, somehow retaining enough of my senses—Celestia knows how—to explain to him that oral was mostly reserved between mares or colt-cuddlers (and then I had to explain the latter term to him!). “Stallions will rarely do that for mares. I’ve been lucky that I’ve had a couple that would over the years, but most won’t. And they certainly can’t do what you can with your fingers!” I paused long enough to hold his hand up in my hoof, inspecting them up close. I’d initially found them a bit odd and spindly, but they were superb tools of pleasure! I could still feel them on me, caressing and probing me, stimulating me in ways no aura or even griffon talons ever had! “Glad to be of service, then…” he stared at me in wonder again until I released his hand, at which point he made a show of lying back and putting his hands behind his head as I continued my efforts, letting me take the lead. “So tell me, then… are all mares this eager? You act like you’ve never been made love to in your life!” “Not like this!” I repeated, now laying a line of kisses down his chest and belly before working on his ‘fly’, though I had no idea what to call it at that point; all I knew was that it was in the way, and these accursed fasteners they used on their clothes were very hard to figure out! “Haven’t… been rutted… in a… long time…” I had to tell him between breathless kisses, deciding to spare the remainder of my life’s story for another time. I’d gone without for so long it seemed like an entire year and a half of desire and need was now breaking free and seeking satisfaction all at once, and given this unexpected opportunity with this incredibly unlikely and exotic male, I wasn’t going to be denied! My self-imposed celibacy sentence had been served in full, and now… And now, I would be the first to know the charms of a human male! He may not have had magic, but what he had done for me was magic as far as I was concerned, and I would return the favor in full. Everything about him was enticing to me at that moment. His muscles were hard but the skin that overlaid it was deliciously soft and warm to my muzzle, nothing like I would have thought it felt. The short hairs on his chest and belly were odd but intriguing, a bit tickly but not prickly, and were surprisingly the same blonde color as his mane. I couldn’t seem to get enough of his scent, either, as the sweet/spicy/earthy combination that he had only served to heighten my arousal with every intake of breath—no joke, my nose hovering over his crotch alone was enough to make me dizzy. And yet, it wasn’t just his body, his foreplay, or even his very alluring scent that was attracting me to him at that moment, or even my own desperation after a nearly-eighteen month drought. It was John himself. After all the time I’d spent with him, just talking and getting to know him, I well and truly liked him. He was different not just from ponies, but from many of the other humans I’d met. He was charming and clever, perhaps a bit odd and introverted at times as all artists and writers could be, but he was also genuinely friendly and interested in not just me, but my race and world in general. He’d drawn me out when no other pony could for well over a year, helped me rediscover a part of myself I’d all but buried… And best of all, he liked me as well! Whether by happenstance or the influence of harmony, whether by chance or by mutual choice, the stars had aligned for both of us at that moment, and human or pony, for at least that one night we were truly meant for each other. * * * * * As philosophical as I’m being right now, and as turned on as the memories are making me, I hasten to add that I was not having such deep thoughts at the time! In truth, I don’t think my mental processes went much deeper than wanting to return the favor and wanting to get him inside me… Of course, to do that, I had to figure out that fly of his, and frustratingly, he wasn’t helping me, teasing me by letting me struggle with it, watching in some amusement. “Having some trouble there, love?” he asked me, and I could only growl a bit in response. That damned clasp was giving me fits, too small for my hooves or teeth to work, and his bulge poking me in the face or the musky, spicy smell coming off it wasn’t helping matters. I finally solved it by simply giving it a good yank and breaking it. His zipper came much easier, thankfully; though it was small I was able to get a grip on it with my teeth and yank him down. And after so much effort spent to get him undressed, I really wanted to see what he was packing! Apes, as a rule, weren’t said to be well-endowed after all, and humans were a kind of ape, though when used by my fellow ponies the title tended to be more derisive than anything else. The thought brought a chill to me—what if one of the reason men were so good at foreplay was as a form of compensation—because they were so small they couldn’t satisfy females otherwise…? I got my answer quickly as I finally got his undergarment down (clothes inside clothes? Why?) and revealed his human stallionhood fully. It was different, but certainly not unpleasant to my eyes—a smooth and gently curved shaft, slightly tapered with no medial ridge or sheath, surrounded with short blonde fur and capped with a bit of a flared head… and yes, it was at least slightly smaller than the stallion norm. I had no idea if he was normal sized for a man or not (he was), but that was fine—I’d learned through many encounters that size wasn’t everything, and what he had was certainly sufficient for the task! “Like what you see?” he asked me almost idly, his human organ twitching under my scrutiny. It was both exotic and alien to behold, though the former certainly had more sway on my psyche at that moment! “Very much…” I told him honestly, giving it a tentative touch with my hoof. He twitched slightly away at that—because he thought my hooves might be too hard, but I quickly disabused him of that notion by gripping and giving him a gentle stroke, surprising him with how soft my hoof could be and how well it could grip. Despite the fact he had no sheath, the outer skin moved quite readily, and I was gratified to see his body tense under my efforts, his hips giving an involuntary buck. “And you…?” I asked as I experimented with his phallus, taking great care, observing his reactions carefully to different touches and motions. He seemed to most like pressure at the base and a squeezing motion as I stroked, so I began focusing on those. “That’s… brilliant…!” he told me, using the word in a context I’d only heard once before, from a Trottingham native. “Didn’t think… your hooves… could do that!” he admitted to me, wrapping his fingers around my hoof, visibly surprised by its texture and gripping ability. I grinned at that—it would seem we both had some surprises for each other! I think that was the first time I had the thought that humans and ponies were exceptionally compatible for such different species—our relative sizes were perfect for each other, and we seemed to go for some of the same things. “They’re still nothing compared to your fingers, John…” I told him almost wistfully, wishing I had that kind of dexterity—never mind sex, it would make writing and using tools so much easier if I didn’t have to use my mouth! My mouth… I’d almost forgotten my earlier intentions, and my grin turned devilish for it. “Or your muzzle… but I’ll do my best!” I announced as I moved in close and gave the top of his organ its first lick. He hadn’t been expecting it and took a sharp breath at that. “Five Stars… pl-please y-you don’t have to…” he began, trying to be a Gentlecolt even though I could hear the need in his voice, and it made me smile. “But I want to…” I told him, enveloping his organ entirely, feeling his entire body stiffen as I did so and a faint cry escape his lips. I could sense every twitch and throb of his phallus, taste its salty muskiness—so similar to the taste of stallion, only (blasphemy!) better!—and best of all, feel his body all but writhe beneath me as he tried to restrain his thrusting hips. He loved it, and it long last it made me feel complete again for it. In an odd way, it was like I was back in Las Pegasus seeing to the entertainment and enjoyment of a guest again… and my own in the process, just as Rising Star had once told me all those years earlier. Those encounters had made me happy because I’d been helping someone else to have fun, seeing to my own in the process—and if both host and guest, man and mare were enjoying themselves, then wasn’t that what this was all about? Like I said at the beginning of this article, it’s funny how some lessons have to be relearned over time. I had no idea what lessons he was taking from this, but he was clearly in great pleasure, his eyes going glazed as he watched me work. “Y-you keep that up, love, and I-I won’t last!” he warned me through gritted teeth. I eased off, but only just, using long experience with the act to keep him on the ragged edge while I considered my next move. On the one hoof, he’d gotten me off orally, so it seemed fair to return the favor… on the other hoof, doing so meant that there’d be a wait of uncertain duration until he could rut me properly. Then again, I was ascribing stallion stamina to him when I had no idea what the human refractory period was. Would he mate more like Miral and the griffons, each short duration events lasting less than a minute but literally a dozen of them in an hour? Or would he trade frequency for duration, as ponies (not always successfully) aspired to in their encounters? Or was it none of the above? For all I knew, if I got him off now, he wouldn’t be able to come again for another day! That worry cinched it—the opportunity was before me, so I would avail myself of it there and now, while we were both so turned on that there would be no way we could not go through with it and enjoy it! So reluctantly, I let him go, his organ slipping out of my mouth and his body relaxing fractionally as I did so, coming back down from the edge of orgasm I’d been keeping him. “Bloody hell…” he stared at me in a daze, his expression one of worship as I switched back to slowly stroking them. “That was brilliant! Are all mares like you? That was the best head I’ve ever had!” I’d never heard that term before—‘head’?—but guessed it was slang for what I’d just did. “Not many, sorry…” I told him apologetically, even though I wasn’t sorry at all—if what I’d done was unusual in his world too, I might be able to use ability and willingness to do oral to keep males of both species wrapped around my hoof! “But there’s something else I’d like from you now, John…” I told him huskily, turning around to present myself again. “My John Thomas?” he asked with a wry grin, before realizing that I would have no idea what that term meant. “I mean my twig and berries!” he tried again, pointing down at his lap. I blinked again at that, though I got the image readily enough. Seriously, what was wrong with just calling them his manhood, I asked him? “Oh, you don’t like those? Then how about frank and beans? Maybe dobber? How about dick? Cock? Knob?” he recited a long litany of other slang terms before I finally silenced him by putting my hoof over his mouth. “There’s only one thing I want to call it right now,” I told him salaciously, then emphasized my next words by turning back around and presenting my flank to him a second time, stepping over to straddle him while giving him the inviting wink with my marehood I’d already learned he liked so much—it was good to know my charms were appreciated by pony and human stallions alike! “In me!” With that, I lowered myself onto him, rubbing his shaft across the length of my opening, letting him feel the outer lips of my marehood, feel the heat and wetness within. “So… d-do you treat all your alien guests this way…?” he asked breathlessly as I ground my hips against him, savoring the moment and the act to come. I may as well have been in heat for the way I was reacting then. I couldn’t ever remember being so eager to have a stallion inside of me outside of the times I was going through my heat cycle! Well, maybe excepting Braeburn… “J-Just the ones who like seeing me naked,” I told him coyly, letting him position me properly, his rigid shaft now pointed right at my marehood, its tapered head gently prying me open and beginning to slip inside me with surprising ease… And then, with a single push, he went all the way in, causing us both to gasp as he instantly sank into me, almost to the hilt—far further than a pony stallion would usually go when taking a mare from behind, which was generally no further than the medial ridge. Words failed us both for a moment as we… well, settled in. “Blimey… you’re so… hot…” he told me at some length, and flattered though I was, I didn’t take his meaning until later, when we discussed it in bed afterwards—he didn’t (just) mean it in the figurative sense, he meant it literally—my body was very hot to him; it turns out ponies have slightly higher normal body temperatures than humans, and as overheated as I was on top of that, he felt it quite keenly. Certainly quite fair, as I felt him quite keenly! The slight upward curve of his organ worked very well for me as it pressed and rubbed against the internal walls of my marehood, and his hands locked onto my flanks and kneading them just added some delicious seasoning to the whole affair. He began thrusting into me and before long we’d started to synchronize our hip motion; I pushed back as he pushed forward, trying to get as much of him in me as possible. A minute passed, then two, then three. He’d already outlasted Miral and most stallions as I found myself all but swimming in a haze of pleasure again, not resisting as he pulled me back on top of him and then rolled me onto the side, where he could spoon me. His left hand clutched at my chest (I’d later realize he was doing something men would normally do with women, clutching at my nonexistent ‘boobs’, though it certainly worked for me too!) and dug into my fur like griffon talons while his right reached low and found my teats, fondling them quite happily, his fingers able to tweak and tease them quite deliciously. He was pleasuring me three ways at once, and as if I needed any more evidence, that alone cinched it—human lovemaking was amazing! I can’t pin down the exact moment I came—or when he did for that matter; I was so completely lost in the stimulation and utter ecstasy he was giving me. Our banter, our chemistry, the moment… it was all so perfect, and exactly what I needed to break out of my long drought and rediscover my long-suppressed sexual side. He told me afterwards I screamed his name, but all I can remember is a flash of brilliant light and a feeling afterwards that I was all but floating. All I knew as I drifted off again in its wake was this human stallion, this man—was my dream lover, one I never wanted to let go. The Mind of a Man Needless to say, that was not the end of that night or our time together. Just the beginning as we stayed in the living room after that, sleeping together on the rug since my bed wasn’t big enough for the both of us. We alternated sleep with sex and snuggling, and even talked some during the latter, about everything from our anatomical differences to what our respective societies would say about us doing what we did—I was surprised and a bit appalled to hear that many humans would consider me an animal and our act wrong for it—while he was equally astonished to hear the story of my herds and lovers and just why I’d been in such a long drought. “I had no idea…” he told me, snuggling me close—the gesture alone brought tears to my eyes when I realized he genuinely meant it and wasn’t only interested in sex. “I’m sorry.” “Not your fault,” I told him, unable to restrain a sniffle, my heart feeling a warmth and comfort it so rarely had before; only rare instances with Cayenne or Cruise Control. Make no mistake, I had given this kind of comfort more than a few times in the past myself, but had so rarely received it. “It was mine. I couldn’t deal with it, and I hurt myself, Miral and so many others after. I bucked up so badly that for a while there, I didn’t think I could ever have sex again, let alone with a non-pony.” “And here you are with me,” he grinned like he was flattered. “I think you’ve atoned, love. And I’m honored you chose me for the purpose.” I burrowed in even tighter against him at that. He was just so wonderful, and I wondered again what I’d done to deserve him. “I’m just honored you chose me!” I told him. “But I do have to ask… why? I mean, what do you like about me?” I was afraid to ask, but at the same time, I had to know. “What, do you mean about you, or ponies in general?” he asked back. “Well… both?” I invited him to explain. He chuckled at that. “What’s there not to like? You’re fun, you’re pretty, you’re smart, you really took the time to get to know me when I wasn’t exactly projecting an aura of approachability… and far more up front than most girls I’ve known! I mean, if you were a woman I was interested in back on earth, I’d probably have to chat you up, wine you and dine you for months, constantly watch my speech and manners, and all in the hopes that you might decide I was worth seeing. Might even have to hide that I’m an author lest they think I don’t make much and wouldn’t be worth the effort. It’d cost me more than a few quid and there’d be no guarantee of success. But with you…? I can be myself. You like me for me and don’t have your standards so insanely high they can never be met. You don’t know how rare that it is sometimes back home.” His mood turned brooding for a moment. I didn’t know what to say to that as he went on. “As for your race in general… well, again, what’s not to like? Your world is pristine, your cities gorgeous. You’re all so colorful and beautiful. You can fly, use magic, or grow crops far better than we can. Your eyes are large and expressive and very pretty to look at, and, well… you’re naked and you don’t care. It’s normal for you and you’re not so hung up on appearances or pretensions.” I blushed again. I was flattered to be sure, and yet… “that’s not entirely true, John. Believe me, we have our share of pretentious ponies here in Canterlot. I’ve had to deal with more than my share as Delta’s manager. Do understand, we’ve been trying to put on our best face for you.” I reminded him. “And us, you,” he agreed. “We heard about your skewed gender ratios and that you ponies were polygamous for it. Speaking for myself, I’ve had decidedly mixed luck with the ladies in the past, and when I heard this place had a four-or-five to one ratio of females to males, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t kind of thought that this place might be a man’s dream, actually…” That earned him an odd look. “Really?” “Really,” he told me. “Looks like it wasn’t an idle thought. But tell me, Five Stars… What do you like about me? And what do they tell you about us?” he wanted to know. I flushed at that, suddenly remembering some of the articles I’d read. “That you’re backwards and warlike, completely lack harmony and pollute your own world. That your lack of magic means you lack… well, souls,” I grimaced as I spoke. Why had I just told him that? We were warned in no uncertain terms not to question them on matters of religion, ideology, or history, and were casually discouraged from asking anything that was too direct or probing. Then again, I’d just rutted him. What got more direct or probing than that? To my relief, he took no offense as he chuckled and pulled me closer. “Well, with regards to lack of magic and occasionally warlike, guilty as charged, I’m afraid…” he told me, somewhat wanly. “We can be the most petty and prejudiced people imaginable when it comes down to it, and we can come to blows over some pretty ridiculous things… and yet, you can make a strong argument that it’s because of that we survive,” he told me, turning thoughtful. I stared at him, uncomprehending. “What do you mean?” “Just what I said,” he shrugged, speaking in perfect earnestness. “We can’t control our sun, our moon, or our weather, and that means we have to be a pretty tough bunch to just take what our world can throw at us. Between blizzards, hurricanes, tornadoes, or just dealing with endless London fog, if we didn’t have the desire to conquer and compete all in an effort to reach better places, we’d still be living in caves…” “I still can’t imagine that…” I shivered, unable to comprehend an entire world where the weather was wild, and celestial bodies moved of their own accord. I never did get used to the wild weather in the Gryphon Kingdom, something Miral had teased me about endlessly. For the first time, my thoughts cast back to him, and I felt a moment of guilt as I wondered what he would think of me now, bedding an alien primate in his place. Never mind him, how did I feel? And more to the point, how would I feel the next morning? Was I going to freak like I did before…? “I just don’t understand how you could advance living in a state of constant conflict as you seem to,” I said to cover up my sudden nerves. “Because it’s that conflict that drives us, love.” As if sensing my anxiety, he raised and kissed my hoof. “It’s what drives us to move forward, to learn and grow. To surmount our circumstances and reach better places. In order to evolve, we must be challenged as both individuals and societies. Otherwise, we’ll never change and eventually die out. And ‘harmony’ or no, I can’t fathom that that truth wouldn’t hold for your world either.” I blinked. The physical and sexual pleasure he’d been giving me had been grand enough, but now he was adding intellectual stimulation to the mix! “But all the conflict you have… all those wars, all those deaths… is that really necessary?” I remembered what I’d read in the New Yoke Times. He shook his head somewhat sadly. “Well, it’s true we’ve had some truly terrible wars in the past, but I dare say our propensity for it is exaggerated. Armed conflict is not normal or constant for my race any longer, at least outside of certain areas of the world. And it’s often not so much conflict as competitiveness. We love trying to one-up each other; we can and do make a game out of just about anything. We get very passionate about our sports and cheer on our local and national teams quite lustily. And come now. It’s not like you’ve had no conflict in your own world’s past. From what I could tell at that Museum, that war you had with the griffons was quite large. Surely you had ancestors of your own who fought in it…?” I blinked, surprised again at the change of subject. “Well… one that I know of,” I admitted, though not proudly. “One of my distant ancestors was a unicorn mare. An archer in the Equestrian Army named Artemis Arrow.” “Artemis?” He chortled like he somehow recognized the name. But how could he? “Oh, the irony…” He laid back and put his hands behind his head, looking like he was trying his hardest not to laugh. “Irony…?” I echoed. He gave me a lopsided grin, giving my mane an affectionate ruffle. “That a peaceful and supposedly harmonious race of herbivores makes reference to the goddess of bows and hunting from Ancient Greece? Or that she was also the goddess of virginity and you’re descended from a mare named after her, now in bed with me? Take your pick, love.” My blush got deeper, both from embarrassment and that his point was valid; I had studied the Mulympian Gods in school and knew his characterization was correct. What was ‘Greece’, though? The name of the place they were originated, said in some circles to be the cradle of pony civilization, was Graze. “Well, um… it was a different time; threats were many and names back then tended to be a bit more… severe. Her medals remain in my family and from the one painting I saw of her, she looked a lot like me. Though I’m not sure how much she really fought. My grandmother said she was less a soldier than a spy…” I told him in embarrassment. “A spy? Truly?” To my surprise, far from being horrified, that only piqued his interest further. “Well then, I would definitely like to hear more! I write spy novels, you know… and with as many different races and past conflicts as your world has, it would be fertile ground for new a epic of intrigue!” he told me eagerly. “Who knows, Five Stars… in my next novel, maybe I’ll even include a character based on you!” he suggested, his hand beginning to track lower on my belly again. “Oh really?” My breath caught. “Do I get to be the sultry seductress then?” “But of course!” he said brightly. “After all, all spy thrillers need a femme fatale. And if I’m truly to write a story based in your world, I might need to conduct some more research…” his voice trailed off lasciviously as his hand began to reach between my legs, causing my breath to catch as he found and rubbed my teats again, trading them back to hardness. Despite my suddenly shaky breaths, I giggled at that. “Who am I to deny the wiles of an expert author?” I shifted my flanks towards him in offering again, feeling his malehood beginning to press against me again. “I have this new human lover, you know. He’s an amazing writer, and very good-looking!” I teased. He acquired a lopsided grin. “Oh? And just who is this amazing and very good-looking writer?” “You may have heard of him,” I grinned and flagged my tail, pushing back against him, inviting him to take me again. “He’s quite the charmer, and the first human to ever rut a mare…” I’m going to leave off this article here, as I’d rather write about the events following that encounter and our remaining time together separately. But not, this time, because things went sour. Far from it in fact, though our parting was difficult when it finally came. Looking back, that night I spent with him became something of an ideal for an average Gentleman’s evening with a mare. Sex and snuggling present in equal measure, taking the time to converse and really getting to know the mare he was with, providing as much comfort and companionship to me as intimacy… He was the perfect Gentleman even before Gentleman existed, just by being himself… and being there for me when I was ready for him. Make no mistake, many stars had to align on both sides of the portal to bring us together like that, and yet it seems now like it was truly destined; like my entire life—and I daresay his—had been leading up to that one wonderful night. I didn’t know then where it would lead at that point any more than he did, but as I lay there with him, I swore to myself that it would not end badly; that I would remember the lessons of Miral and have no regrets the next day. In the end, I kept that promise… but I’ll save that for next week’s article. He and the rest of our human visitors still had not quite a week remaining in their stay, and I intended to take advantage of my new human lover and our time together fully before he left! > Part 22: A Week Together > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – A Week Together By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post Magazines November 16 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: So to no surprise, our new social justice friends tried once again to occupy our offices. I’m still not sure how you get rape culture and racism out of Five Star’s articles, let alone patriarchy when you’re talking about a mare-dominated society, but when did facts or basic freedoms ever matter to these people? It would also appear that city hall and the mayor’s office has decided we are not worth protecting, giving us only token police presence and being deliberately slow to respond to our calls. Fortunately, we have no lack of friends at this point, including many sentries in the sky. A pegasus brought down a cloud to dump rain all over their protest groups and tent camps on a cold November morning, ending one effort. When they tried to storm our lobby later, unicorns removed them magically while earth ponies and griffons were far more direct, physically tossing them out and then daring the local constabulary to arrest them for it. Needless to say, they did not—I’m happy to report the rank-and-file officers have some sympathy for us even if the mayor doesn’t. I wouldn’t want to get them in trouble by saying they deliberately looked away, so I’ll just note they seemed to have more sense of duty and justice than their leadership does. The illogic of these groups never fails to amaze me. One tried to claim that being touched against their will by a unicorn aura amounted to rape, and our stallion editor’s response to that was to lift her high in the air, asking her if she hated his touch so much she wanted to be dropped two stories to the ground. In another instance, one of our new tiercel friends announced he was taking out the trash, bodily picking up one shrieking girl and flying out to deposit her in a dumpster. When she then tried to claim he was raping her, he sneered and said, “If I did, I didn’t enjoy it, considering how little fight you put up! There’s nothing warrior about you!” and then kicked the lid closed on top of her to applause and hoofstomps. Well, as promised we are serving them and their schools papers today, suing them for not just the physical damages and security costs, but millions in punitive damages. We sincerely doubt the protestors can pay, being liberal arts majors who qualify for little except selling lattes at coffee shops, but their schools certainly can, considering the tuitions they charge. We’re expecting a long, hard court battle ahead, but we’re confident in our standing. In the meantime, enjoy another article by the mistress of men, Five Stars. No trigger warnings because quite frankly, at this point I don’t give a damn what she writes as long as she continues to piss these people off. —Kalido Tenna, Chief Editor, New York Life Magazine Manehattan Post Executive Editor’s Note: I’m relieved to report that we did hear briefly from Hot Topic this past week, via a note delivered by means I’d rather not reveal. She assured us she was fine and asked us to investigate a couple things for her. I’m not at liberty to say what other than that the topics were a little surprising; but we did inform her about the attacks on Five Stars’ former herdmates and advised her to watch her back. She promised she would, and told us in no uncertain terms to keep running the articles and not to worry about her. The first instruction we can follow, but not the second. We want you to come home safely, boss. On another note, our security here at the Manehattan Post has been bolstered by the surprise appearance of none other than Lady Delta Requiem, who arrived earlier this week without fanfare. She told us that, given what was going on at the New York Life, she was taking it upon herself to keep us safe from vandals and violent protesters. We’re certainly glad to have her, as she demonstrated her skills by bodily tossing a very irate earth pony mare twice her size out the doors of our office. Given that earth ponies are renowned for their strength, this is no small feat. Lady Requiem informs us that she is doing this in part to help assuage Five Stars’ worries over all the events of late. Given their relationship, I understand the sentiment. She’s also lending her skills to the main office of Gentlemen for Mares. I find it impressive that she’s able to split her attention between guarding two separate offices so easily, though she informs me she has her ways. I’m certain Five Stars appreciates the lengths Lady Requiem is going to as well. Speaking of which… before we once again turn our pages over to our now-famous guest writer, Lady Requiem has a message for all would-be vandals and protesters: If you wish to test your luck against me, I welcome you to try. Ponies - or people - who think they can bamboozle me with ‘social justice’ rhetoric and other nonsense have never met me before. I am the Court Bard of Canterlot. I’m a master of all sorts of verbal sparring techniques. I’ve talked ponies into buying ice in the middle of winter. I’ve convinced gangs and mobsters to turn themselves into the authorities. Your ridiculous reasoning and laughable slander is beyond pathetic. I will give you exactly the amount of respect you give those under my protection. Keep that in mind. Thank you for your words of wisdom and warning, Lady Requiem. Now with the pleasantries out of the way, we invite our rational readers to enjoy Five Stars’ next article and advise the easily offended to vent their selective outrage elsewhere. —Extra Edition, Executive Editor, Manehattan Post Magazine Dear readers— I’m sorry for yet another delay in getting this latest article written, which will be coming weekly from here on out, but the reason this time was a happier one. To make a long story short, I’m not in Manehattan at the moment; I’m currently writing this from a sprawling and recently erected movie production campus in the deserts near Las Pegasus. Yes, you read that right. No, they’re not making a movie based on my life (I wish!), but perhaps one of my past lives… Why am I here? Well, not long after my last article was published, I got a very surprising invitation based on something I said in it. Remember I told John I had a unicorn ancestor named Artemis Arrow during the time of the Pony/Gryphon War? Well, ponies apparently did some checking in the Canterlot archives and found that she was indeed an intelligence agent of sorts (which John should be VERY happy to hear!), and even met Captain Firefly at least once. So in short… as the new Rise of Firefly movie trilogy is in production now, being produced by a joint human/pony/griffon entertainment consortium, I was asked if I wanted to play the part of my ancestor in the first movie! I was stunned by the offer. The last time I ever acted was in high school, where I had a minor role in a Hearth’s Warming pageant. I initially demurred, saying I wasn’t sure I felt right doing that and didn’t think I could take another leave of absence again so soon after vacation and staying in Ponyville with Harvest for a week, but once Platinum, my fellow trainers and even our Gentlemen themselves found out, they all insisted I do it! So what could I say except yes? Arrangements were made quickly to make sure word did not leak. They flew me out here in the company of my bodyguards and even put me up on their improvised campus, part of which had been done up on the edge of the Great Gorge to look like an old Equestrian Aerial Corps (the pony air force of old) border base. I was very surprised when I saw it and the other sets—they’d really gone all out; it looked very much like the real thing! I stepped off the chariot (my bodyguards flew alongside) to a VIP welcome consisting of a large chunk of the cast and crew. It was a bit intimidating being in such exalted company, comprised of both Wonderbolts and Silver Wings performance fliers (it was especially gratifying meeting Captain Spitfire, who told me how much she enjoyed her favorite Gentleman!), as well as famous pony and griffon performers—but imagine my surprise when such famous company asked for my autograph! I was doubly shocked when I encountered Princess Celestia on my last day there, to say nothing of very gratified when she recognized me and greeted me warmly. As everyone has no doubt heard, she has agreed to play herself in the movie series on the condition that she acts as the final authority on authenticity; that both sides of the conflict are told and events are not embellished from what they actually were. I was there long enough to watch the first of her scenes, and hearing her affect an olden accent was a bit jarring, to say nothing of seeing her in battle armor! That was later, though. Upon arrival they gave me the script of my scenes, which apparently were taken directly from Firefly’s memoirs and official reports (Equestrians back then were nothing if not good record keepers!) and let me study them overnight. They weren’t kidding—my ancestor really did meet her, though it appeared their encounters weren’t exactly happy affairs. And I had no idea the kind of things Artemis did, some of which really were straight out of John’s novels. The next morning, they dolled me up, cut my mane short in a military manner (I could have it magically regrown, but I’ll keep it that way for now—I’m sure it’ll give everyone back home a good laugh when they see it!), gave me a faux unicorn horn and an old Equestrian Army uniform consisting of cloak and hood over chain mail armor, and then strapped a bow and quiver full of arrows to my back, all period-authentic. The final touch was some temporary touch-ups to my cutie mark, adding some additional stars to make it more in the shape of a longbow. When they were done and turned me towards the mirror, I started upon seeing myself. I was the spitting image of my ancestor… at least from the one painting we have of her. My scenes were shot over a period of several days, the last one coming today. And I have to say, they were initially very difficult for me to do, and not just because I’ve had no real acting experience. It was the role itself, and what it required me to be. In one scene, I had to play the part of an interrogator, be deliberately mean and manipulative to an injured and frightened young griffon (who played his part superbly) and I was fighting back Miral flashbacks to start, forcing me to request a break. Fortunately, the griffon in question, a young and rather slight teenaged tiercel named Lyan Trishal from a Kingdom theatre troupe, helped immensely. I ended up having lunch with and chatting with him, taking an immediate liking to him—young and earnest, he told me that he’d lost friends and family in the Cloven War, that he was an avid reader of my articles, that he’d gained the courage to be with a Caleponian mare thanks to them, and that part of the reason he wanted the role of Gavian Ravenoff was that “if it hadn’t been for him, there might be no Kingdom, no Equestria, no friendship between us… and no place for actors and artists in griffon society. He was not only a great painter and warrior, but the first true friend between our races, and I’m honored to play him.” He didn't eat much, as the role required him to be frighteningly gaunt to start, given Gavian Ravenoff had originally been a homeless and half-starved fifteen-year old orphan. When I asked him why he and the other griffons were so eager to participate in a story that might not show them in the best light, he told me that “The Great War was as revered a time” to them as it was to us for the cunning and courage, to say nothing of the sheer sacrifice it involved on both sides, showcasing both nations and races “at their best and worst.” “Gryphons have never shied away from our history, and this is a chapter in it that should be remembered. Not just for what we did, but for how it changed us… and you,” he finished and then went on to give me some acting tips, instructing me to “not hold back” on him—that to sell the scene, I had to be mean, and he didn’t hold it against me. Talking to him really did help, and I felt much better afterwards. We took our places for the scene again, and at the moment “action!” was shouted, I felt the strangest sense of deja vu. I’m not one to believe in ghosts or past lives, but all of a sudden my voice changed, the accent I was affecting got stronger and more natural, and I fell very firmly into character. It was heady but also downright scary if I’m being honest; I honestly felt that I was experiencing a past life at that moment. In fact, our performance was so good they only needed that one take! And so it went. I regret I can’t say much else—you should see the ‘no spoilers’ clause in the contract I signed!—but I’m at least allowed to say I do take part in a battle scene, and one that should be quite compelling to say the least! For my final sequence, in fact, I was awarded the same Opal Arrow medal that was originally given my ancestor (passed down through my family as an heirloom), and the chills that went through me at that moment are still with me now. In the end I’m glad I did this, and not just for getting to take part in a huge historical production like that or the good publicity it’ll gain me and G4M. It really made me think, took me back to a far less harmonious time in Equestrian and Tellusian history. A time when the races of our world were not at peace, when we were every bit as warlike as some ponies like to so sneeringly put down humanity for. I really think I did touch a past life there, and it was an experience, though unquestionably eerie, I’m very glad to have. For in the end, Lyan was right—we really do need to be reminded of our roots like that once in awhile, reminded of the mistakes and sacrifices we made as individuals and societies to get where we are now. It’s a revered story on both sides, and to that end, they’re really going all-out for this, even to the point they’ve been having the pony and griffon actors train and live exactly how soldiers did then. The main pony leads were subjected to intense Royal Guard training, while Sapphire Spotlight, the pegasus actress playing Firefly, put herself through through a brutal six-month training regimen to be ready for the role and spars frequently with her griffon counterparts to make combat scenes convincing. The campus is sprawling with multiple full-scale mock-ups of military bases and more minor sets, there’s a thousand griffons and ponies encamped here as extras, and a small army of artisans from all races at work making period-accurate costumes and uniforms, weapons and armor. In fact, as there was plenty of security on site and their services weren’t really needed, I even convinced my bodyguards to participate! As they were veteran soldiers, they got roles to suit their experience; they’ll appear in two major scenes (but you won’t know who they are!). After my scenes were done, they took a series of promotional photographs of me with the rest of the cast. There’s even a picture of me and my bodyguards taken in period costumes, one dyed gray and done up as a Raven assassin, the other black with red stripes as an elite Red Talon warrior, but I’m afraid I can’t share them just yet. Not because of anonymity concerns—they’re unrecognizable (and VERY intimidating!) in that garb, so there’s no issue with them being seen like that—but as it’ll be part of the official promotional materials, it stays hidden for now. Don’t worry; it will be shared in due course! Sorry to go off on that tangent, and for yet another distraction to sneak in on my writing, but this past week was just so much fun and interesting. I can’t wait for the movies to come out! To quote our Gentleman, in fact… for all the effort they’re throwing into them out here; it’s going to be epic! But now, back to the story of me and John, the final chapter of our time together I’ve been waiting nearly a year to tell. Because as good as that night was, it was the week that followed that really sealed the deal… and made Gentleman for Mares possible. A week that made me fall in love with not just a man… But with all mankind. Emotional Intersections I woke up that morning feeling as well as I could ever remember feeling. So at peace, so alive… and so unlike what had happened previously with Miral. If I had feared not being okay with things the next day, I needn’t have. I also needn’t have worried that John wasn’t able to go again quickly. We went at it nearly hourly for the first half of that night—apparently, I wasn’t the only one who’d gone without for awhile; he said he’d last been with a lady three years earlier. When I asked him how I compared to human women, he hugged me tight and said “you’re so much more fun than she was!”, going on to explain that his last lover had been very demanding, wanting things strictly on her terms. “She decided where we’d go, what we’d eat, and even when we’d make love,” he turned brooding for a moment. “And even then, she called the shots—she wanted it her way and no other, I had to do all the work, and if she didn’t enjoy it, it was my fault for ‘not respecting her feelings’ or some other rubbish.” I was shocked at that—I mean, how could a human female not like this treatment? But I was further stunned by a separate thought I initially kept to myself, one calling back to something Princess Mi Amore Cadenza had said at the first day’s lunch our guest attended… In their society, the stallion attended the needs of the mare? He saw my confusion, and immediately asked if he’d said something wrong. “No! No…” I immediately assured him, hastily adding that I very much appreciated his efforts, and now wanted to pay him back properly. In short, I wanted to know what he liked! Now it was his turn to look at me in surprise. “But… you’ve already done it!” he told me in wonder. “Just by being with me! Just by taking the lead! I’ve never had a woman jump me the way you did just then! Let alone go down on me with abandon like that.” After he explained what ‘go down’ meant, I was starting to understand where he was coming from—happy though I was to meet a stallion who attended my needs, he wasn’t used to having his own attended to! And for the first time, I had the thought that if all men were like him and all mares were like me, then we were not just sexually, but emotionally compatible! In short we each wanted and needed what the other could offer… In short, as races and cultures, we were made for each other! I kissed him full on the lips again—we’d learned the trick to doing so quickly enough, at least—and shared my observations with him, again asking him what he would like me to do for him! “It’s the least I can do for my guest!” “Do you treat all alien men this way, love?” he asked me with a grin, though I could tell he was genuinely pleased and flattered by the offer. I’d figured out ‘love’ was a term of endearment, and one I preferred greatly to the other term he tried on me once or twice—‘pet’. “Only those who invade my world and my bed,” I told him, to which he noted somewhat dryly we weren’t actually in my bed! I thwacked him on the flank with my tail at that, then he finally relented. “Well… there is something I’d like to try…” he eventually admitted, then began to shift around me a bit, only to stop short. “If you’re willing, that is…?” When I asked him what it was—I mean, what else could we do that we hadn’t already?—he said that “it would be easier to just show you…” and then gently rolled me over, pushing me on my back, taking a minute or two to just run his wonderful hands and fingers through my fur of my sensitive neck and belly, giving my teats some attention as well. Though delighted at the sheer worship he was giving me, alternately telling me how exotic, wonderful and beautiful he found me, I still wasn’t sure what he wanted until he moved to straddle me. “So how would you feel about doing things a bit more human-style?” he asked, moving to position himself in front of me and pushing my legs apart. For the first time that night, I froze—the last time I’d been taken belly-to-belly by a stallion was the night of my honeymoon with Aces Up and Double Down, and I suffered an immediate and very unwelcome flashback. He felt me stiffen and take a fearful breath, and immediately froze himself as he recognized my sudden distress. “Five Stars? Did I say something wrong…?” I shook my head hard—why of all things did that have to be dredged up now? “No! No… it’s not you. Just… some bad memories from the last time I did it…” a sudden tremor had entered my voice. “Oh!” he quickly backed off, releasing me and letting me hurriedly roll back over. “I’m so sorry, love…” “N-not your fault…” I quickly reassured him. I was sorry too, if only for the fact that had instantly killed the mood and my enjoyment of his efforts, silently cursing the lingering hold that night still had over me. “Just… hold me…” I asked him, and he did so promptly, spooning me from behind and letting me clutch his arms to my chest with my forelegs. Deciding he was owed an explanation, I gave him a short one. “Bloody hell…” was all he could immediately come up with as I finished. It was an odd invective to me, but I remembered reading somewhere that hell was the human version of Tartarus. “In my country, you’d go to jail for that.” “They did,” I told him shortly. “And if you don’t mind… I really don’t want to talk about it any longer.” “Of course,” he told me, holding me tighter and kissing me on the head. We did nothing else for the rest of the night, stroking my fur silently until I’d relaxed again and finally fallen asleep. Friends and Lovers I slept much better than I might have if he hadn’t been there or had left. A couple times memories of my honeymoon horror story tried to rear up in my dreams, but each time John appeared to save me, either riding in on a horse like Aragorn or flying one of those birdlike war machines he’d shown me the first night he was here. Mares normally save stallions in most pony romance novels instead of the other way around, but here his warmth, his scent, his comforting presence and protective arms made me feel safe, a warmth in my heart growing that hadn’t been there for a very long time. We’d become friends, we’d become lovers, and now… even though I’d just met him he had all but become my coltfriend, being there for me in a way that not even Cruise Control truly had. And that was what cinched it for me that both he and humanity were special. In the end, I needed his company and companionship as much as I needed the sex, and completely unlike too many stallions I’d known, he had provided me both on my terms without any hesitation, putting my needs ahead of his. He didn’t pressure me, he didn’t leave my side even after I said no, and though disappointed, he didn’t try to suggest it again for the remainder of the trip, perfectly happy with doings things my way. I would have been perfectly content to just stay with him that next day, talking, cuddling… and once I was over my fears again, tucking. Unfortunately, much as we both wanted to, we couldn’t. There was another tour event scheduled that day, an airship journey to Cloudsdale where our human guests would visit the great pegasi city, tour the weather factories and see how pegasi traditionally lived. Thus, my alarm clock went off with the rising of the sun, and we reluctantly brought our first night together to an end. John’s attendance was actually optional at this event—it was assumed (quite correctly) that our human guests might not be too keen on flying or the idea of walking on clouds via magic spell, and indeed, only about two-thirds the group decided to go—but mine was not. Even aside from my desire to spend time with John, I didn’t really want to go either (you KNOW how I feel about flying!) But I was still the chief coordinator and liaison for these affairs, so my presence was required. I had to be there early to make sure everything was ready, at least a couple hours before our ten o’clock departure. A Better Morning After We showered together, though the quarters were a bit cramped and he had to crouch down to be under the showerhead much as he had to duck under doors. He also didn’t have a change of clothes with him, so he had to make do with the ones I’d already damaged in my desperation to undress him, for which I was profusely apologetic. “Don’t be,” he told me with a toothy grin—and having had those teeth actually used on me, it was a sight that caused me far more a thrill than fear—tapping me on the nose lightly as well. “Seeing you so keen to have me was one of the best parts of the whole thing!” he added with a wry note, positioning and tightening his still-intact belt to cover his broken fly. Blushing, I reared up and put my hooves on his shoulders, where we shared one last lingering kiss before departing. “You really have no idea how special you are, do you?” I asked him, tears in my eyes. “Back at you, love!” he rejoined with a trademark twinkle. “Now what say we go and get ourselves killed trying to walk on clouds…” he suggested a bit more nervously, and honestly, I agreed with the sentiment. As I had little I could provide him in the way of breakfast, we stopped at a short-order diner I knew first. He was somewhat surprised by the variety of options (though I’d say the staff was more surprised to see him as they didn’t quite know how to treat him), but did enjoy his omelet and fruit medley; I told him to save some room for a stop at Donut Joe’s. “Have to say, your food is first-rate, but I really am starting to miss a proper British full breakfast,” he noted as he licked his fingers clean from the latter, by which I took to mean he normally ate meat at one. We were trying to have some available for most group dinners, but I was beginning to understand how omnivorous human tastes really were. After that, we stopped a fashion shop and asked for a quick repair on his pants. We got looked at a bit askance for it, but they were able to improvise a fix to the unfamiliar garment, and then we continued on our way. That brought another issue to the forefront—whether our new relationship should be concealed. John, it seemed, could pretty much care less what anyone thought of it, and normally I wouldn’t either. But these weren’t exactly normal circumstances given the positions we were in; he being one of the first human visitors to Tellus and me being the chief organizer and human liaison for their visit. Hiding it was a tall order as we arrived at the assembly grounds where the whale-shaped EAS [Equestrian Airship] Equanimity was already awaiting boarding, its crew readying it for flight. I had to take my leave of John to attend my duties and suggested he take in the Canterlot Gardens in the meantime. “Just don’t go hitting on other mares, John!” I warned him half-sternly, waggling a hoof at him. “No promises,” he twinkled back. In fact, our new relationship stayed secret for all of about three minutes, as Delta took one look at me and immediately knew what had happened—“You were positively glowing, Five Stars!” she later told me—but did make a point of pulling me aside and asking me if all was well, for both me and him. I assured her, of course, that it very much was, and hoped I wasn’t in any trouble for it. “Not from me,” she promised, “and especially not if you’re both fine with it. Besides, as you’re not the only one to do it, it would seem it’s going to happen whether we want it to or not,” she chuckled. That caught me short. “Not the only one…?” Indeed. In truth, we had taken no small amount of pride in our pairing just for thinking that we were pioneers and it was the first of its kind. So imagine our surprise and disappointment to find out we were in fact not the first pony/human couple in history! That honor, as everypony well knows, goes to Lyra Heartstrings, who as it turned out did so two days ahead of us with the human musician I’d initially seen talking with Delta that first night. We did talk and share our experiences afterwards before she returned to Ponyville, and I have to say that in some ways, it turned out she was even more adventurous about it than I was! Pegasi Pride I spent the next hour making sure things were ready for the trip, and as usual, there were issues. Some of the catering for an onboard lunch hadn’t arrived, the cloudwalking potion supply was short two containers, and there was a letter from a still-absent Prince Blueblood formally protesting my appropriation of his airship ‘for such a vulgar affair’. Thankfully, I didn’t have to deal with that—Lady Requiem wrote him a reply that isn’t fit to share—but the catering was another matter, as I had to ‘light a fire’ underneath the catering company in another human adage I’d later learn, threaten to make an adverse report on them to the royals which would mean their business being dropped from consideration for future affairs if they didn’t get the food delivered on time. Needless to say, it was. Through it all, John was never far from my thoughts and I hoped, me from his. Though the good feelings I’d taken from the night were definitely still with me, I couldn’t help but still worry that he was disappointed that I’d turned him down at the end there. I swore I’d make it up to him somehow, but part of me still fretted he’d hold it against me as some stallions might… Still, the notion brought a smile to my face. For if nothing else, the fact that I was worrying about not getting to be with him again meant that I really was okay with what happened! Despite the issues, the airship was boarded and lifted off at precisely 10am. Our guests lined the decks and railing, drinks in hoof, though some were less eager to be closer to the edge than others. In all honesty, I was one of them. I knew full well we had unicorns and pegasi at hoof in case anyone somehow fell (and you’d really have to try!) but the fear of falling stayed with me, so I could hardly hold it against our guests. Still, everyone seemed to greatly admire and appreciate Canterlot and the surroundings mountains as seen from the air, given a gorgeous panorama of middle Equestria as we reached our cruising altitude and set off for the great city of the sky. In truth, I had never been there either, and wasn’t entirely certain to expect. I knew our trip itinerary, of course—an aerial tour and lunch on the airship followed by a two-hour walking one for whoever wished it (hence the cloudwalking potion), seeing the weather factories and flight schools followed by some museums and sparring exhibitions. Once we were at cruising altitude and speed, it took two hours to cover the hundred and fifty miles from Canterlot to Cloudsdale (the city moves with the seasons changing its location throughout the year). Magical wind suppression fields kept the outside observation decks still usable by tamping down what might have been a hurricane gale to a refreshing breeze, and I have to say, seeing their awestruck reactions of our human guests as the great pegasi city came in view really made the entire trip worth it. I could hardly say I was unaffected either—the massive columnar structures hearkening back to classical times, the multi-tiered rainbow falls, the winged ponies flitting to and fro punctuated by the occasional griffon or even adolescent dragon… One other thing the visit drove home for me is how alike pegasi are to the griffons in that they did treasure their history and warrior heritage. Since I mentioned it before, the old Equestrian Aerial Corps museum is located here, and there are statues and monuments everywhere dedicated to past pegasi heroes. As much as I wished I could take John with me and tour the former, we didn’t have the time and I wasn’t exactly familiar with the place. Lacking wings, I could hardly navigate it by myself, either! In the end, about fifty or so guests mustered their courage to take the walking tour, downing the cloudwalking potion. “Makes my tongue tingle,” John said to me as he sipped it, adding that it tasted like orange (probably flavored that way to match its orange glow!). Trust John to be the first to volunteer to test the potion by stepping out from the walkway onto the cloud, and I did cringe to see it, even though pegasi and unicorns were standing by in case by some stretch it didn’t work on a human. It did, though he was visibly surprised by it. “That’s brilliant…” he said as he tested his footing, then crouched down and experimentally pressed his hand against the surface, finding it surprisingly yielding but also able to support his weight. “It’s like memory foam!” he called back, and that finally convinced some others to try as well, people stepping gingerly off the ship to test their footing. Not everyone was able to handle it, as several got severe vertigo (as I was prone to have in such circumstances) and had to be returned to the ship (to the snickers of some passing pegasi), but in the end, we got a group of about forty together for the walking tour. We did make one interesting discovery as we started out, though—the potion allowed their drinker to walk on clouds, but not their possessions. We found that out when a purse was dropped and fell right through the cloud base. It was retrieved by a passing pegasus, but we advised everyone to keep their devices in their pockets and not take them out until they were walking on solid surfaces once more. And so the afternoon went. We started by visiting the Junior Speedsters’ flight school, where foals put on a show demonstrating their recently-learned aerial skill, then the nearby weather factory, where everyone was quite happy to have solid ground underneath them again. They were first given a demonstration of how olden pegasi could manually create wind and weather with wings and hooves (rather remarkable seeing a pegasus stallion take some humid air and then compress it into a cloud!), and then shown how it was now done on a mass scale using a mixture of machines and magic. Demonstrations went on to include lightning and snowfall, and they even pieced together a weak whirlwind that they sent passing through the crowd and was just enough to toss your mane about. Our guests could only shake their head and take an occasional picture for the most part, though I did hear some mention of how ‘incredible’ or ‘unnatural’ it all was. For his part, John just walked about in wonder again, though he did catch my eye just once to shake his head in amazement at me. “Your world truly is remarkable, Five Stars,” he told me later, saying even he as an author and avid ‘sci-fi’ reader had never imagined such places as this could exist. “But I’m very glad I have now!” The afternoon ended with a private tour of a pegasi history museum, showcasing their warrior past with separate rooms dedicated to various eras and wars they fought in. To little surprise, John seemed most interested in the military exhibits, and I promised him a visit to the Aerial Corps museum later if he wished. The pegasi service branch of the one-time Equestrian military had been disbanded half a millennia before, but was still a revered organization in pegasi history. We returned to the airship for dinner, which then took station a thousand feet away as the pegasi put one one final show for us, creating ice glitter in front of the setting sun. It was a beautiful effect, and one that earned a raucous round of applause. Perspective We arrived back at Canterlot two hours later—we couldn’t stay in Cloudsdale overnight because we weren’t sure the cloudwalking potions would last long enough, and we were reluctant to give a second one for danger of addiction (a valid concern, as it turned out). As our emotionally exhausted guests were escorted back to our quarters via carriage, I asked John if he wanted to return home again with me. “Oh! Um… sure?” he said, his voice strangely dull, and he said very little on the ride back. When I asked him what was wrong, he told me “it’s not you, love. It’s just… feeling a mite overwhelmed again.” He shook his head. “It was all marvelous, believe me. It’s just that… well, once again, what you ponies can do… it dwarfs anything we can. It makes me feel… I don’t know. Small. Inadequate,” he admitted, though I would hardly have used either word to describe him! “I mean, we don’t have magic, we can’t control weather… so why would you want anything to do with us? With me?” He finally asked forlornly, sitting on my couch with his head on his hands. “John…” I called to him, putting a my hoof on his arm, considering my next words carefully. “I didn’t fall for you because you were human or because of your music or what you could do. I fell for you because you’re you,” I immediately assured him. “And believe me, if you’re at all representative of humanity, you have plenty to offer us. Your technology, your science, your…” I trailed off. “My body?” He suggested slightly wanly. “Well… maybe,” I admitted with a blush. “The point is, if we thought you were irredeemable or without anything to offer, we wouldn’t have gone to your world or invited you through to ours. The princesses were impressed with your race, and they were impressed because you accomplished all you did without our magic or harmony. I mean, cities of millions? Worldwide travel possible in hours? Trips to your moon? The entire vast knowledge of your species available at the touch of a hoof? We don’t have any of that!” I reminded him. He sighed and repeated a line he’d told me the first night I met him. “They flatter us, truly, but… every time I think I’ve got this world figured out, it hauls off and gobsmacks me again,” he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a wet blanket. It’s just so bloody much to take in. And please forgive me, but… I’m afraid I’m not in any mood to be frisky right now.” I blinked at that—did he just apologize to me for not being in the mood? “I wasn’t asking you to be,” I told him, genuinely concerned for him. “It’s been a long day for both of us, and we’ve been on our hooves for hours. It’s nearly ten, so let’s just go to bed,” I offered. “Mine won’t fit both of us, but you can take it if you like. And I’ll do the sofa. Or we can just snuggle up here?” I asked hopefully. “Here,” he told me, somewhat shortly. “And thanks for understanding. Guess I really don’t want to be alone right now…” “It’s my pleasure, John,” I assured him, and this time, it was me holding him, and he fell asleep long before me for it. * * * * * I stayed awake for a long while that night, just thinking. Mostly, I was just trying to see things from John’s point of view. A male from a non-magical race visits a magical world for the first time and gets overwhelmed by what he sees. Was it my fault? Perhaps the Canterlot trip was too much for our guests? Or in John’s case, was it just that on top of everything else we had done the previous night? I didn’t really think so on the last score, given he seemed perfectly fine with it and was in fact disappointed he hadn’t gotten to take me on my back, but I couldn’t help but worry. Regardless of the reasons, he was a treasure, as far as I was concerned—a ‘keeper’ in human parlance, but one I in fact couldn’t keep past his departure date in five days. So, was I being a fool myself? Was I bonding myself emotionally to somepony—excuse me, someone who couldn’t stay with me? Even if he was willing to have sex again later, was it even worth doing anything more with him at this point for the eventual heartbreak it might involve…? I didn’t find any firm answers to those questions that night, save one—that even if it meant a wrenching cost to me later as we were separated, I did not want to stop seeing him, stop spending time with him, either socially or sexually. I had enjoyed our time together far too much for that, even if our last night had ended on a slightly sour note, and in truth… I really was starting to feel a bit randy again. Somewhat surprisingly, the fact that I was taking care of a stallion was causing some more traditional mare instincts to rise up within me—I really thought of him as mine at that point, and at that point, he was, quite willingly. So, I would be there for him, just as he had me; I would make certain he enjoyed the remainder of his stay as much as possible… And I also resolved I would have a new and larger bed delivered before he had to leave so we didn’t have to sleep on the floor. Making the Most of It Those remaining five days went all too quickly. The final guest visits were to Celestia’s school for gifted unicorns (“Hogwarts this ain’t!” at least one guest was heard to say, and having seen those movies by now, all I can answer to that is—thank Celestia it’s not!) and out to Ponyville to see some earth pony farms, including one where everyone got ‘the best dang cider of both worlds’ and all the apple pie they could eat, the earth ponies owners giving our human guests a tour of their orchards and showing how they could use their great strength to haul huge loads and buck the apples from the trees. A second farm down the road offered carrots and other vegetables, while a third dealt with grapes and served up some superb juices and berry cobblers. The idea behind these trips was that they’d seen what Pegasi could do, so we would also show them Unicorns and Earth Ponies as well. In between it all, John and I spent as much time together as possible. He did seem to recover well after a good night’s sleep, dealing with the exhibits of unicorn and earth pony abilities much better than he had pegasi, apologizing immediately upon rising that morning for ‘acting like a bloody wanker’. We talked things over some that morning—about expectations, about what we would do from there. He agreed wholeheartedly he did not want to stop seeing me for what little time we had together, and had in fact been worried that he’d lost me after the way he’d been the previous night. I might have annoyed him when I laughed at that, explaining that “the way you felt was the way I felt the previous morning!” and then he joined me in laughing, remarking what a “pair of bloody fools” we both were. I’m happy to say, it wasn’t long before we started up again—just the next night in fact, where we went to an expensive restaurant and hotel (compliments of Delta!) and had a very good night together! I don’t think I’ll go into it this time, as we do need some moments private between us! I’ll just say it was every bit as wonderful and magical as that first night had been, and by the end of it we were very practiced and experienced lovers. But all good things must come to an end, and before we knew it, it was the day of departure. Our human guests had been here a full two weeks, and with their electronics now out of power and many saying they were ready to go home, it was time to send them back to their world. John and I slept in as long as we could that final morning—we got two nights with my Prince-sized new bed, anyway—staying in each other’s arms for as long as possible. But with a noon return time, and a final speech and presentation being given before that, we had to part ways. I used my final round of duties as a distraction from his pending departure, getting everything ready for our last event, held just as the first night’s one was in the Canterlot Gardens. Our guests were having one final group lunch before leaving, and we were also to witness a signing ceremony—the final details of the Equestrian/Terran trade agreement had been hashed out behind the scenes, establishing a set of rules for trade and tourism across the portal. “Twilight Sparkle has been instrumental in this agreement, just as she was instrumental in opening the portal and doing so much in bringing our two worlds together,” Princess Celestia said with the air of a proud mother. “It is my great hope that this pact will bring great benefit to both sides, and is in keeping with the highest traditions of friendship and harmony,” she said as she signed the document, and the human ambassador did the same to the applause and hoofstomps of all present, my own included. That had been on the event schedule. The next thing to happen was decidedly not. “Before we bring down the curtain on this visit, and return our honored guests to their own world, there is one final ceremony I invite you all to witness. Twilight Sparkle, step forward,” The Princess commanded, and her former student did so promptly, if in some surprise. Celestia regarded her for a moment as Luna and Cadance stepped forward as well; the former having made it a point to stay up long enough to see our guests off even if she did look noticeably tired for it. “You have made me very proud, my former student,” she began as Twilight bowed low, flaring her wings in royal greeting. “When I first sent you to Ponyville some years ago, you knew little about friendship or harmony. You have learned much of both in that time, and you put it to work here, working tirelessly to see that not only this treaty would be signed, but that this first visit of humanity to our world would be a success. As I look out among our guests today and see the friendships they have forged with their pony hosts, I cannot but be proud, and realize that were it not for you, none of it would be possible. And for this, you have earned this greatest of all honors…” She extended a wingtip and tapped her on one shoulder, than the other in turn as Twilight’s eyes grew wide, perhaps finally realizing what this all meant. “For all you have done and the friendships you have brought to be, not just between ponies but between two very different worlds and races, I bestow your formal title, and it is well-earned. You are now and forever… The Princess of Friendship!” The applause and hoofstomps that followed were thunderous. Sweet Sorrow It was less than an hour later that our guests were boarding the train that would take them back to the portal, retracing their initial steps. A bittersweet occasion to be sure; I did remember somewhat ruefully at that point that when they first arrived, I couldn’t wait for their visit to be over with, and now that it was… I wanted them to stay! Or at least wanted one particular human to… What do you give your soon-to-be-departing alien lover as a parting gift? Well, I took a page from my time with my dentist friend so many years earlier, and offered him… an amber jewel etched with my cutie mark I’d had made the previous day. “I’ll treasure it always,” he promised me, but felt bad he couldn’t give me much back. As far as I was concerned, he’d given me plenty, but if he insisted he wanted me to have something of his… “How about your pen?” I suggested, pointing at his pocket. “First thing I noticed about you, after all…” He put on a look of mock horror and covered the pocket protectively with his hand. “My dear Five Stars! An author never gives up his pen!” he informed me, then paused and grinned. “Except to the fair lady who won his heart,” he finished slyly, then knelt before me like I was royalty and presented the pen to me like a sword in front of everyone, to the laughter of human and pony alike. He was a ham to the end, and I couldn’t help but laugh as well for it. We sent our guests back through one by one, Twilight Sparkle and the princesses seeing each off personally. When it came John’s turn, we hugged hard, and didn’t let go. I had waffled over doing it to this point, but I finally relented and reared up to give him a long, lingering kiss in front of everyone, to mixture of shocked and approving sounds. “Write me?” I asked him, and he promised he would… “when they get the cross-portal postal service set up, that is…” Finally, it was his turn to pass through the portal, at which point he turned back towards me and bowed low before me. “Until we meet again… Miss Five Stars.” “Until next time… John…” I told him, then watched with a tear in my eye as he blew me a kiss and walked backwards through the gate, his gaze on me the whole time… And then he was gone, impossibly far away. A Changed Mare I’ve heard it said that a mind stretched by a new ideas never returns to its original dimensions. Such, I sensed even then, was going to be the case with me. Having known my first man, having spent a week with him as friends and lovers, I was a changed mare. I wasn’t quite sure what it all meant yet, but I knew one thing as Delta gently led me away… That I not only wanted to know a man’s love and favor again, I wanted other mares to experience it as well. And with that, I now bring down the curtain on this climactic tale. With its end, I’m now nearing the end of my story—there aren’t more than two or three articles remaining at this point as I detail the aftermath of these events, my first meetings with Platinum Corona and the eventual formation of G4M; we’re also planning one final Q&A session for our closing article. But I could hardly write this without including a letter from that wonderful first human lover, a man I remember fondly even now: Dear Five Stars— Needless to say, I’ve followed your articles with keen interest these past few months, though I regret they were nearly half-done before I became aware of them! But you know me—I tend to get engrossed in small details and miss the bigger picture. It’s my gift and curse as a writer; I see little things that everyone else misses while overlooking the larger ones everyone else sees. I’m just very happy you were one of those things I saw, as overwhelmed as I was when I first arrived in Equestria. In fact, it wasn’t until after I met a young unicorn lady at a bookstore in Fillydelphia I can only describe as your doppleganger that I learned of your works! You write superbly, I must say, and though I can’t say I dabble in the romance genre much, you’d make a mint in it! I knew then that you’d likely want to get in touch with me before telling our story, but traveling Equestria trying to drum up interest for my latest novels under an alias as I was at that point, you weren’t likely to find me. So, I tried to find you instead, making a point of swinging through Manehattan on my latest bookselling meet-the-author tour. I didn’t give you warning because I wanted to surprise you, only to visit G4M headquarters and learn that you were on holiday in the Crystal Empire. Thankfully, with the help of a secretary and a friendly Gentleman or two, I was able to meet Platinum Corona and explain my purpose in coming, and leave a letter with her for you. We missed connections then, but I sincerely hope we will not a second time! I’ve little to add to your description of that week, except to say I really did have no real understanding of all the things you’d been through before I read your articles, and now it makes more sense why you reacted badly to being on your back again at first. In the end, I’ve had far more favorable experiences with mares than human women; I hope you consider it flattery that my latest partner looks almost exactly like you! But you never forget your first, and I’d never forget you. That week remains as deeply etched in my memory as it does yours, and it gratifies me greatly to know that I was able to play such a big role in your life as you did for me Perhaps the stars did align for us, as you say, but it still wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t you—if you weren’t willing and able to take a chance on an introverted and rather unsuccessful author with a thin resume who just happened to win a lottery for the one of the few first seats to Equestria. If you weren’t to take the time to get to to know him; if you weren’t willing to draw him out of his shell and make him notice you. It goes without saying that I feel no more shame about our time together now than I did then, and certainly do not regret it. Which is not to say I’ve taken no guff for it—one of my ex-human ladyfriends called me a ‘perv’ among other choice terms when I told her I preferred the company of mares. My response to that is quite simple: if the definition of ‘perv’ is enjoying the company of lovely equine ladies that enjoyed my company and appreciated my efforts far more than my human girlfriends ever did, then guilty as charged. When it comes down to it, you’re bloody right—men and mares were meant for each other. So where am I now? In Equestria, where I much prefer to be, hawking my latest works and finally finding some success as an author. In truth, I’ve been writing and touring under a pen name simply because I like the spy thriller allure of it. But now? I think me and my works will do better if I reveal myself fully and reap the publicity whirlwind. You’ve put yourself out there and made yourself the public face of both Gentlemen and human/pony relationships, so as your first man, I feel I can do no less. I’ve no doubt you’ll fret about me revealing my name in light of what happened to your old herdmates, but fear not—I’ve plenty of friends and lovers now, and part of the reason I write spy novels is that I know many tricks of the trade! To my first and favorite mare, Shaun “John” Rhys, aka RS Bradley PS: I read over your article draft, and you’re right—I am VERY delighted to know your ancestor was a spy! I look forward to seeing the movie, and be assured I’ll be writing a character based on you and her into my next book! Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Shaun. It feels so good to tell this story and remember that week; writing these last three articles made all the bad moments I had to relive over the yearlong course of this project worth it. Still, I do think you’re being a bit modest. You’re putting it all on me for drawing you out, but you forget that I wasn’t exactly easy to approach at that point either. Your charm, your wit, your willingness to engage me, and above all else your basic warmth and decency were what drew me to you back then. I said it earlier, I’ll say it again—you were the prototypical Gentleman long before the idea for them had ever crystallized in either mine or Platinum Corona’s head. Whenever I give training classes, I’m always remembering the time we spent together as an ideal for how a Gentleman’s evening with a mare should go. I’m very sorry we missed connections a month or two back—to borrow your own phrase, you’re bloody right I would have been shocked (and delighted!) to see you! Your letter was welcome, and brought tears to my eyes to read. It was quite hard not sharing it or giving away the fact that I’d been in touch with you, but I’ve had plenty of practice keeping secrets and slipping out unseen over the past ten months. I’d worry that someone might get wind of our plans, but that’s not a concern now. For by the time this article runs, we’ll have already had our rendezvous… and hopefully made up for lost time! (PS: And this time… you are more than welcome to take me belly-to-belly!) > Part 23: A World Apart > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – A World Apart By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post Magazines November 23 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: Well, with the Thanksgiving holidays upon us and a break from school, the SJW crowd from local universities has stopped bothering us for the time being aside from ongoing Twitter and Tumblr harassment, going home to eat organic tofu and generally make life miserable for others, screaming bloody murder over everything from cultural appropriation to the latest election results. For the rest of us saner folk who live and work in a place called reality? We’ll be marking the day with a massive party from a surprising source—Cayenne Kick, Five Stars’ first herd stallion and now a three-year resident of Manhattan, has invited the staff, friends and family of the New York Life Magazine to break in his brand-new sports bar restaurant with a Thanksgiving dinner cooked and catered by him and his new staff! We of course offered to pay, but the tab was picked up by no less than Prince Blueblood, who also provided the start-up capital to our Equestrian friend and helped secure his lease. The Prince, who is now wrapping up a two-month tour of Earth, has promised to attend himself, on the condition that he be allowed to give a speech and pay for the entire event. It does our hearts good to know that we’ve got such good friends out there, and it gratifies me greatly that we’ve garnered so much goodwill in addition to the hate. The last year has been trying at times, but it has also brought us all together and shone a bright and unflattering spotlight on the not-so-tolerant crowds on both sides of the ideological aisle. I’ve never considered myself particularly ideological except for a fervent devotion to my profession, but having become a part of the story over the past year in many ways, I’ve gained new appreciation for the subjects of our stories and, I believe, become a far better journalist for it. Are we advocating a position, as some claim? In the beginning, it was not so much as simply allowing that position to be heard. But it’s impossible to go through what we did and not take sides, so yes, I daresay we are. And the irony of it is, it would never have gotten so much exposure without the vitriolic reaction and backlash it generated. Only two more articles remain plus the final Q&A session, which Five Stars will detail at the end of this article. But, by the time this article is read, we will have already gorged ourselves on good food and good times; Cayenne has promised that whether pony, human or griffon, he’ll have served up a feast suitable for “a Princess, President, or Queen!” We’re holding you to that, Cayenne! And keep in mind our resident food critic will be there! —Kalido Tenna, Chief Editor, New York Life Magazine Manehattan Post Executive Editor’s Note: Unlike other human holidays, there’s no equivalent to ‘Thanksgiving’ on this side of the portal, and in truth, we have a hard time comprehending a holiday marked by ritual slaughter and eating of animals (“Speak for yourself!” a griffon member of staff tells me upon reading that!). Then again, that holiday seems to be limited to just one human nation as opposed to shared by many, like Christmas and Halloween, so perhaps it’s understandable. Many of you have written to us, worried about Hot Topic, and believe me, we share your concern. Unfortunately, her gift and curse is that she’s the most stubborn, determined mare I’ve ever met and doesn’t back down to anypony, pursuing her goals with a single-minded interest that occasionally lands her—and us—in hot water. Our worry is that this time, given what she’s already uncovered, she may be in over her head. I can say no more at this point, except to promise we’ve dispatched her what aid and information we can, and she is making progress. What we worry is that she’s making enemies too, and after what happened to Five Stars’ former herdmate, it’s not something to take lightly. There are simply too many people out there, ponies and otherwise, who wish this whole endeavor ill. We had one more encounter with human and pony protesters during the past week, who have now shifted tactics away from direct attacks on our offices and staff to harassing our papercolts/fillies as they sell our magazines. That lasted a day before Delta Requiem intervened, giving them what I can only describe as a very stern talking to, after which they left and did not return. Then again, I’m not sure that’s what did it so much as some humiliating bouts of bad luck they had—a pegasus stallion tried to intimidate her with a storm cloud only for its lightning to backfire on him, frying him and sending him to the hospital, while a human girl suffered an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction when her blouse suddenly popped open as cameras rolled. I really don’t get why that’s so embarrassing, given that a mare’s teats are always exposed and nothing to be ashamed of. But her schoolfilly shriek was really something to behold! Regardless, we are hopeful that a breakthrough is at hoof. Our office and business seemingly secure, Lady Requiem is now helping Hot Topic directly in her search, and she has promised to bring all her considerable influence and authority to bear in its pursuit. And as for this article, if you read it but don’t know by now what you’re in for, you really need to get out more. And probably get laid. —Extra Edition, Executive Editor, Manehattan Post Magazine Thank you, Extra Edition. I wish you to know that my thoughts and prayers go with Hot Topic as well, as do those of the Gentlemen I train. Gentlemen are a very close-knit group, bonded by their professions and the mares they tend. They ask me constantly if I know anything about the search that you’re not able to say, and I have to disappoint them. It’s hard and we’re all gravely worried as well. In the end, we want nothing more than for both her and her Gentleman to return safe and sound. I can speak from experience that Delta’s presence will certainly help things; take it from me when I say that she has an uncanny knack for uncovering information and making things run more smoothly. On the flip side, there have been times I’ve sworn she can also throw considerable sand in the gears when she’s of the mind to. Don’t trifle with her, folks. She’s a bard for a reason. I’d also like to take this time to thank Prince Blueblood once again for his support and generosity. To our fine Prince, I wish you to know that your sharp wit and open wallet does you great credit, and I do look forward to meeting you for myself someday—for all the time I spent in Canterlot, it’s rather surprising that I never did. And as for you, Cayenne… if you’re trying to endear yourself to me again, I have to say you’re succeeding! I know firsthoof how hard it is to get a new business off the ground, and I can’t imagine it’s any easier over there. I remember well how good your culinary skills were, and though I can’t say I really get what a ‘sports bar’ is, I’m sure you’ll make it work. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the support you’ve given me and the magazine, and it is my great hope that we’ll yet be able to meet up a year or two in the future, once the publicity around me has died down a bit. Speaking of which… I couldn’t let this article pass without saying I have indeed met up with Shaun again! Though the original plan had been for me to meet him in Las Pegasus and stay at the Mystique under the protection of Rising Star, he suggested meeting me here instead, where there was already plenty of security and the media harassment would be much less. “Besides, I want to see this new movie production of yours and all the sets!” he told me, so he was brought here by chartered chariot and in fact was already present when I wrote my last article, watching my final scenes be filmed. Certainly my costume and shorn mane gave him a good laugh as I reared up and kissed him in greeting when he stepped (slightly shakily) off the chariot; he seemed especially amused by the fact I had a unicorn horn, just like his new marefriend whom he claims is my lookalike. He was forced to surrender his cameraphone but didn’t care much, still having his ever-present notepad and pen and endlessly drawing in it as we toured the grounds. “You haven’t changed a bit,” I told him later after he’d been introduced to everyone and we’d been given a private suite at the actor’s inn. “Back at you love—except for the hair, of course,” he gave my short-cut mane an affectionate ruffle, scratching me between the ears—he’d improved his technique there, I instantly noted! “But you’re right, you know. After all, I’m still the same amazing and very good-looking writer you always knew!” “And still just as modest and unconceited as ever,” I retorted with an arched eyeridge, to which his grin only got broader. “I’m sorry. Maybe I misheard you. Are you accusing me of being immodest, Miss-write-an-entire-magazine-series-detailing-your-sexual-escapades-including-me?” “Touché,” I replied, and with the door now closed behind him, reared up and gave him a kiss that took his breath away. “Then let me make it up to you now…” * * * * * You’ll forgive me for keeping our time together private this time. All I’ll say is we definitely made up for lost time in the three days we spent together, and yes, I did finally allow him to take me on my back as he always wanted to. But even outside of our more intimate moments, he enjoyed himself immensely. Along the way he collected a slew of souvenirs and autographs from the various pony and griffon actors in his notebook, including those of Silver Wings and Wonderbolts. He also got on good terms with my griffon bodyguards, signed a few autographs of his own for those who liked his books or our story, and relished watching the movie scenes being filmed, especially mine. Once they were done, and they allowed me to keep the costume, he even suggested we use it in our final night together for a little roleplay! Did we? Yes. Am I telling you what it was? In human vernacular, hell no! Actually, something else happened that final night. Something I will happily tell. There was a party thrown for all the cast and crew that evening, who’d been working very hard ever since this project had been announced. A big tent was set up on the edge of the Great Gorge, giving us a magnificent view of the setting sun and then a starry night. Plenty of food and drink was had—and before anyone asks, yes, I do allow myself some occasional cider and wine now, but I do NOT let myself get soused—and there was even a dance floor set up. Trust Shaun to have something planned for me. Vinyl Scratch, the famous pony DJ in charge of the festivities and a longtime Gentleman client herself, called me out by name and asked me to come forward. “Got a special song for you, sister!” she grinned. “Courtesy of your man over there. So all you fine folks clear the floor, because this next number is just for the two of them!” she announced to the cheers of the assembled, who quickly surrendered the dance stage to us. Now I’m not one to dance, really—was never that good at it, even the ballroom affairs I’ve occasionally had to take part in—but I decided to be a good sport about it, even if I was just going to embarrass myself. The music crystal spun as Shaun faced me, a knowing smile on his face. “Hope you like it, love…” he told me as the song began to play, the human crew members erupting in cheers when they instantly recognized it. I’d underestimated him again. Just like he had with that martial song he played for me the first night of his visit all those years ago, the beat and lyrics completely swept me up and away. They were so perfect for us, and it was a love letter to me deeper and more meaningful than any words he could have put down in his books. The cheers from all watching were raucous as, tears in my eyes, I danced with abandon with him, and when the song was finally done, I reared up and kissed him, staying in his arms as the next piece, which was a slow dance, began. Needless to say, we didn’t last much longer at the party afterwards, heading back to our private suite for a final night of very illicit fun! Sweet Sorrow We parted the next day with a promise to keep in touch from here on out, and I also promised to eventually come down to Fillydelphia to meet him and his new marefriend, my reported doppelganger. He returned to his book tour, while I went back to Manehattan a very happy mare. It wasn’t just because I’d gotten to be with him again, but for what I was returning with. Memories, experiences, a slew of new friends… and a very unique set of souvenirs. As mentioned before, they let me keep the Equestrian Army unicorn uniform and archery gear, and by acclaim, I wore it when I returned to work, making a point of marching into the lounge area with it where a training seminar was being held. Gentlemen and trainers alike were delighted, erupting in cheers and laughter at my appearance—and just why is it everyone had to run a hand through my crewcut mane?—with many a picture taken. It was then that the seminar presenter and one of our unicorn handlers—“Evening Rain” from the last Q&A session—took particular interest in my longbow and arrow-filled quiver, meant for unicorns as they were. “Are those real?” she asked me, and I confirmed they were indeed working weapons, period-authentic like everything else they were using. She then asked if she could inspect the longbow, and I said yes, even though I had the very distinct impression that far from being impressed, she was more than a little annoyed with me for interrupting her presentation. After examining it for a minute, commenting on its excellent craftsponyship and remarking that she, too, had an army ancestor, she suddenly plucked an arrow from the quiver and notched it, spun the bow and fired it, scoring a bullseye on a dartboard across the room, sinking the arrow halfway into the wall. Then, with equal speed, she notched and fired two more, hitting both flanking dartboards dead center as well, and all in the space of about two seconds! “A good weapon and a fine reproduction,” she confirmed with satisfaction to the stunned silence that had fallen over the room, returning the longbow to me. “I may ask to borrow it again if I have trouble keeping my boys in line. Now then… before we were so rudely interrupted, I believe I was giving a seminar on new safety protocols…?” she reminded everyone with a sly grin as she took her place back at the podium. Our Gentlemen fell over each other trying to get back to their seats and were very attentive for the rest of her class. * * * * * The army uniform of Artemis Arrow now resides in my office on a ponykin I borrowed from our main outfitters at Rarity For You, with the medals of my ancestor now framed and mounted on the wall behind it along with the original citation scroll that accompanied them. I enjoyed my time wearing it, and plan to don it again for costume parties and Nightmare Night. We don’t have a ‘Thanksgiving’ here in Equestria as seems to be the case in the parent nations of the majority of our Gentleman, but over the last two years we’ve provided one for them, even importing some game birds for the occasion, prepared by griffon and human chefs. A recording of a ‘football’ game from across the portal was also played on the projector, which I’m told was another tradition of the day, though I fail to see what that odd and slightly violent sport had to do with feet. In the end, a good time was had by all, as I hope it was for our friends at the New York Life. But for now… it’s time to resume my story once more, picking up from the departure of our human friends. A Heart Not Whole If I’d been less depressed in the days following Shaun’s departure, it might have struck me how ironic it all was. I mean, when he and the others had first arrived, I was initially nervous about their visit to Equestria and hoped their two weeks here would pass quickly, only to wish at the very end that they’d stay longer. That I was far from alone in such sentiment was cold comfort. Lyra Heartstrings and I ended up finding each other and commiserating over dinner and two mugs of cider (nonalcoholic, in my case), trading stories and at one point trying to jokingly one-up each other with what we’d done with our respective human mates (I’m sorry to say, she won that competition hooves down!). It did help some, as we parted with a hug that made us both sniffle—for who but the other could truly understand what we felt? Delta kept tabs on me but otherwise gave me some space, reminding me that if I needed to talk, she was there. I did eventually take her up on that offer, asking her to sing for me like she had during my darkest days a year earlier, and she did so, though the effect of her lyrical tale of lost and unrequited love was not to perk me up but get all my grief out of me. Like the cork had been removed from a sparkling cider bottle, all my emotions erupted and I bawled my eyes out over my lost human lover for the better part of half an hour, admittedly feeling much better for it afterwards. She offered me some time off on the condition that I do something that didn’t involve brooding and drinking during it, but I said no, sensing that idle time was not what I needed at that point. So I threw myself back into my work, lining up her next performances, this time a series of joint appearances with the great earth pony musician and singer Countess Coloratura in Appleloosa and the buffalo lands. She’d not been present for the human visit, doing her own swing through the Gryphon Kingdom at that point, and perhaps that was for the best given how much trouble I had at times getting even less famous pony musicians like Lyra Heartstrings and Octavia Melody to work together. Artists and performers can be surprisingly temperamental ponies, a quality I know by now carries over to humans as well. A week passed, then two, when I got an unexpected caller. I opened the door to my modest flat and immediately fell to my knee when I beheld the form of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza flanked by two Crystal Guardsponies, one white and one orange—“Call me Cadance, please,” she told me with a smile for not the first time, saying that she’d come at Delta’s request. For who better to help heal a broken heart than the Princess of Love herself? Stunned, I invited her in and gave her what little hospitality I could, making her some tea and offering her some improvised cucumber sandwiches, all the while apologizing profusely for the messy state of my place—I hadn’t had the emotional energy to clean up since Shaun had left, or perhaps I was trying to preserve the traces of him in my place as much as possible. The bed and couch pillows still smelled a little like him, after all, and if I cleaned up, that would vanish. But my royal visitor accepted it all with a smile and wave of her hoof, telling me that there were times she wished she could live more simply like I did, and could have more time with her husband and newborn baby. The first natural-born alicorn in existence, Flurry Heart was the darling of all Equestria, and speculation was rampant as to what she might grow up to be. “But enough about me. I spoke to Lady Requiem. She said you were having trouble since your new human coltfriend left?” She asked me without a hint of distaste or reproach. I’d had at least a few ponies call me some choice words after they’d seen the reports of me kissing Shaun and assuming (correctly) that we were lovers, but I didn’t care. They didn’t understand. They couldn’t understand. But perhaps the princess before me could, having crossed certain boundaries herself by taking a mortal mate and becoming a matched pair with him? But I couldn’t help but feel such hopes were all but forlorn at that point. “I guess,” I said dully, my appetite suddenly deserting me again. “Tell me about him,” she wanted to know, putting her own drink down and taking my hoof in her own, not using magic. “What made him so special?” Blinking back tears, I mustered my courage and told her. Told her everything—how I first met him, the progression of events that had led to our first night together, and at her request, what had first attracted me to him—his attentiveness and wit, his willingness to see to my needs first, always putting my interests and pleasure above his. All utterly endearing, I took pains to tell her. And all so unlike the typical Equestrian stallion. “Feels like I’ve been spoiled for ponies now. Like I can’t go back to them, ever.” I couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss over that as well, and by the time I finished the story, I was crying again, having to take a break before going on. In response, she held me and waited patiently for me to do so, not pressing but dabbing at my tears with a napkin. In time, I was finally able to. “The attraction was there from the start. And I can’t explain it except to say it felt like we were meant for each other,” I told her. “We, as in you and him, or more generally as men and mares?” she asked me to clarify. I blinked at that, as I hadn’t really considered the question before. “Well, now that you mention it… both, really. Despite belonging to such disparate species, we were physically and emotionally compatible. Very compatible,” I belatedly realized. “And having tasted a human’s love, I don’t know if I can ever go back to ponies.” I slumped with the admission, wondering if what had happened with Shaun and even Miral before him had forever spoiled me for being with my own kind again. “I see…” she said, almost thoughtfully, the light going on in her eyes for a brief moment like a sudden idea had occurred to her. But whatever she was thinking, she put it aside and refocused on the task at hoof. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Miss Five Stars. I can tell how much he meant to you, and how much you now miss him. I cannot return him to you, but I can help relieve your pain,” she told me with a smile. “If you’ll let me, that is…?” I blinked at that. It was said that our Princess of Love had the power to mend broken hearts and bring estranged couples together, but how could you heal a heart that was no longer whole without the very person that made it whole? “You’d be surprised,” she told me with a grin when I asked as much, fearful of what she might do—if it involved removing memories of him, I would have instantly answered no. “To quote a human song I heard during their stay here, ‘the power of love is a curious thing.’ It can heal in surprising ways, if you’ll let it. All I do is help you let it,” she promised me, directing me take her hoof. Though not understanding, I did so, and closed my eyes as her horn lit and her magic washed over me. It certainly wasn’t the first time I experienced a unicorn’s magical touch deep inside my head. Rising Star had done it to save me some years earlier, and I’d felt a far more sexual variant of it when the Crystal Heart had been restored. But this… this was on a whole different level than those. It wasn’t intrusive in the least; she merely found and enhanced my existing feelings of love, not just for Shaun, but for all the ponies I’d ever loved, whether or not that love was sexual. My parents and siblings. Cayenne. Ember and Acacia. My dentist friend. Braeburn. Cruise Control. Everypony in my third herd. Miral. And now, Shaun. “So much love…” she told me with a whispered voice I heard not just in my ears, but my very head. “And so much pain. So much loss, but so many lives touched. And yet, for all your pain and loss, your heart is intact, still seeking… still spreading…” she added, mostly to herself. “Still seeking to be whole. And for one week, it was,” she noted, then brought all her power to bear on the inner core of my being. It’s hard to describe what it felt like, except to say that it was as if a light was shining from deep within me. Through her power, all the love I’d ever felt was brought to the surface, reminding me of everything I’d ever felt for anyone. A heart I thought was empty was suddenly filled to the brim with that love again as I remembered those feelings, and instead of sorrow it brought tears of joy to my eyes as I finally realized all I had and far from losing, all I had taken with me. I felt blessed. Touched beyond words or feeling. It was wonderful. It was beautiful. And it was inside me all along. For as much love as I was feeling at that moment, I imagine I could have fed an entire hive of Changelings for a year. And in the clarity that light from within provided, I saw the first time what I wanted and needed. It wasn’t a stallion, it wasn’t Miral, it wasn’t even a man. But of the three, it was what a man could most easily provide: To feel special. To feel celebrated. To be loved as strongly as I loved back. To be able to help and heal. To be the center of my lover’s world, even if just for one night. To be seen as exotic and desirable for it. I couldn’t believe I’d been so dense as to never see it before. It was the reason I did so well with ponies like Braeburn or Cruise Control and yet fared so poorly in herds. The reason I’d been so intensely attracted to Miral or Shaun, and why I so enjoyed even single encounters with guests back in Las Pegasus: Because I was able to cut loose and simply be me, and be appreciated for it. Because I liked the unusual and exotic, because I liked being able to help others and be helped in turn. For the most part, these were all things I simply could not do in a herd, and even outside of it, it was often very difficult to do with stallions who expected their own needs to be tended to first. When I had to share mates, both the love I could give and the share of it I received was diminished. When I was with a typical stallion, I always put their needs first, trying to show them a good time. The times I hadn’t, whether with Braeburn or Miral, I’d had the time of my life because it was mutual. And yet, even they weren't the total package for me. Indeed, of the entire long list I just recited, one and only one lover had ever provided me all six at once: Shaun Rhys, human male. I sat there just basking in my own released love for some time; I have no idea how long I stayed like that. But finally, my royal visitor lifted her spell and let me drift back towards the land of the living. “Better?” She asked me with a pleased and gentle grin, releasing my hoof. I couldn’t help it. I threw my forelegs around her, crying, this time tears of joy. “There, there…” she told me, returning the embrace and patting me on the back. “You’re a very brave pony, Five Stars. You should be proud of all you’ve done.” “Brave? Proud?” I sniffled, thinking of all the times I’d been afraid, if not an outright coward, telling her as much. “Brave,” she confirmed. “There is no courage without fear, and you’ve overcome yours repeatedly, even after as many times as you’ve been hurt. You’ve had help, certainly, but it wouldn’t have mattered unless you had the will and willingness to heal. Love cannot help you unless you let it in and allow it expression, allow it to act through you. Take it from me—this is all too often a very rare thing, and is indeed something to be proud of.” I couldn’t help but sniffle anew at that. “Thank you,” was all I could immediately manage. “No, thank you, Five Stars,” she gave me a sly grin again. “Both for giving me an excuse to leave the Crystal Empire for a bit and go back to what I used to do—helping ponies to realize love. And for showing me a new way love might be realized,” she told me a bit cryptically. “I think it may yet bear some surprising fruits.” “But how can it?” I asked her with desperate hope. “They’re not coming back for a long time. And even if they do, what guarantee is there that I or any other mare will know that love again?” “Be patient,” she told me, squeezing me tightly and kissing me on the forehead, making me feel once again like I’d been touched by a goddess. “You said nothing would be the same for you now? Well, that holds for ponies in general now. The trade agreement was just signed, and humans will return—well, once both sides have figured out how best to take advantage of it, anyway. So fear not. You and other mares will know the company of men again, Five Stars. On this, I give you my word,” she told me, and so fervently delivered, I believed her. Fast Forward A year passed, and the first hints of trade and tourism did indeed begin between the two worlds. To little surprise, one of the first human tourists to return was Lyra Heartstrings’ lover, who promptly moved in with her. He was also the first human to be granted permanent residency in Equestria—thanks to Princess Mi Amore’s intervention, I might add. After he was back for a bit, Lyra herself wrote an article in the Canterlot Daily detailing her relationship with her human coltfriend, and why she liked him so much (and I would be lying to say that the positive reception she garnered for it wasn’t one of the reasons we decided to try it for G4M!) As I read, I found myself nodding in agreement repeatedly, wiping a tear from my eye from time to time. It left me more than a little sad and envious, wondering again if Shaun would ever return. We did write for a bit once cross-portal mail was established, but he simply didn’t have the money to come. “I don’t know what the going pound-to-bit exchange rate is, but it’s a small mint for me to make the trip to the portal and back,” he explained in one of his letters, saying he didn’t want to come and just be a burden to me; finances were tight and he was still trying to get his latest book to sell. “I’ll come when I can be a proper ‘coltfriend’, love,” he told me, and no matter how many times I assured him that I’d take care of him, he said no. It wasn’t until much later that I realized I was actually kind of insulting him by making the offer—human men very much wanted to be able to take care of themselves and their mates, not be taken care of by them. Yet one more endearing quality that left me missing him all the more. Nevertheless, I trusted my heart and Cadance’ words, both of which were still telling me the same thing—be patient. So I was, and I didn’t do anything with anypony for that next year, getting through heats with nothing more than a cooler again, saving myself for the day that I would know a human’s love once more. But I never dreamed at that point the manner in which it would happen. A year and two months after my time with Shaun (and not long before the first human diplomatic foray to the Gryphon Kingdom and subsequent attack of the Cloven!), Delta called me into her private studio one morning. It was a place I rarely went and when I did, it was usually because she wanted to scold me for something. I didn’t think that was the case this time—as far as I knew, all was well; I hadn’t been drinking and had been a very good worker, her business dealings and finances were in order, and I was in fact in the middle of organizing a fresh tour of Zebrica and Saddle Arabia to the south of Gryphon Kingdom for her, which would necessitate another overseas trip. When I entered the room, Delta was not alone. There was a second, rather large mare there. She was pink with white hair, had a unicorn horn, and was wearing an odd corset and veil that masked her flanks and face. At first glance, I took her to be a Saddle Arabian from her size and manner of dress, so my initial thought was that she was going to be my liaison for the coming tour of her home nation. I couldn’t have been more wrong. “Hello, Five Stars,” Delta gave me a sly grin, one she usually reserved for the rare instances that a prank was being played. “I’m sorry to call you in here so abruptly, but my honored guest has specifically requested your presence.” She nodded to her left “Greetings, Miss Five Stars,” she said in a Saddle Arabian accent, bowing low before me. “My name is Platinum Corona. I am told by Lady Requiem that you come from a background in the service industry, are a lover of men, and are very skilled in business and finance. As I have need of a mare possessing all three qualities, I would like to offer you what I hope will be a very tempting business proposition…” Needless to say, I don’t think what the proposition turned out to be is any mystery, but the events that would follow will once again need an entire article to explain. Reading back over this article, however, I once again find myself lost in memory. I can still keenly remember the events of that day when our Princess of Love touched me; the light she unleashed within me still shines now. If there was a moment I well and truly became the pony I am today, it was then. Having put these events down on paper, I do wish I could thank her again, let her know how much she did for me and how much it meant to me. All the experiences I had would have made little difference if she hadn’t been there to show me their true meaning, and all they had done for me… To say nothing of showing me all I had already done for others along the way. I wouldn’t worry too much, Five Stars. I think I can safely speak for the Princess of Love when I say that she is very honored and flattered by this story being told, and is very proud of the work being done here; enabling so many other mares to experience the joy and fulfilment you found with your first human lover. Indeed, you can be certain I did run the idea for G4M past her, and she gave it her enthusiastic blessing; I daresay she was thinking of this meeting with you when she did. I do keep contact with her since, as you might well imagine, she is very keen on this project succeeding. I know she is hard-pressed sometimes to escape her duties and appear publically outside of royal events, but she still finds ways to make her influence known. She offered initial financial and legal support to this endeavor, to say nothing of helping secure our initial lease at what would become our headquarters building, as well you know. What you may NOT know is she was equally delighted by your visit to the Crystal Empire some months back, and regrets she was not present to greet you in person. But as you may imagine, her daughter and various other duties now take much of her time. Nevertheless, you may be assured you have both a supporter and an admirer in her. —Platinum Corona Thank you very much for conveying this, Platinum. It is still my hope I can see her to thank her directly again sometime, both for what she did back then and all she did for us later… and for all she’s still doing behind the scenes, if your report is any indication. Gentlemen for Mares would have been much more difficult to bring into existence without her… or you! One last order of business before I sign off on this article. We are indeed collecting questions for one final Q&A session, and once again, we are throwing it open to not just me, but all Gentlemen, trainers, secretaries… indeed, anyone who works for G4M. Even select clients say they are willing to answer questions this time, so those of you who want to ask clients questions may. Two articles remain before the final one, which will be the Q&A. Instructions will follow at the end of this article, but I’ll say here that the usual rules apply: civil questions only; anything too insulting or taken to be “trolling” (another human word I’ve learned of late) will be summarily ignored. In the meantime… for my human readers, enjoy your holiday if you have one, and to both my human and pony ones… thanks once again for all your support and patronage; your willingness to stand by and stand up for us. The power of friendship is once again proven by doing so; by not letting the purveyors of hate and intolerance win. > Part 24: An Unexpected Proposal > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – An Unexpected Proposal By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post Magazines November 30 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: Well, folks, with our collective bellies now stuffed as much as the birds we ate were, we return to work happy if a little hungover. Cayenne and his new staff threw, as Equestrians say, one HAY of a party! It was certainly rather gratifying seeing Prince Blueblood more than a little soused as well, firing off a flurry of rather interesting toasts following his ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new restaurant and subsequent speech as dinner was served. He thanked us for ‘showing such stiffness of spine’ in the face of our many adversaries, saying he greatly appreciated those who are as willing to ‘tell it like it is’ and not be constrained by such ‘useless civilities’ as protocol and politeness when our many adversaries refused to apply the same rules to themselves they demanded for us. That was one of many lines in his speech that earned a rousing round of applause, and he stunned us further by carving up one of the turkeys himself and partaking of it to the raucous calls of the griffons present. Cayenne, our food critic wishes you to know that, though his full review of your new restaurant can also be found in later pages of this issue, he had ‘never tasted a better bird’ and was doubly impressed by some of griffon festival dishes served, saying he’d never imagined that a slow-roasted flying boar could taste so good! “I’ll eat griffon food when pigs fly!” he had said once before, but ate his words as well as a flying pig! So to make a long story short, the party was wonderful, the food was excellent, the restaurant well-appointed, and our hosts quite gracious as well as very skilled. Cayenne himself came out to put on a show as he threw together a series of drinks and dishes right in front of us; it was rather remarkable seeing a pegasus chef in action, watching him use both his hooves and power of flight to make food! There were some protestors outside, of course, but their numbers were few on a raw and rainy November day, and we kept the local police on our side by bringing them warm drinks and some hot food. In any event, Prince Blueblood had little time for them when they tried to barricade the entrance. Rather than have them arrested, he simply requested they be left to him and for a change didn’t even bother arguing with them; he just just levitated the lot of them up and deposited them in a large and rather dirty puddle. “But that’s assault!” one of them screamed afterwards. “We’re gonna sue your fucking flank!” “Diplomatic immunity,” he answered with a smug grin, then to emphasize the point dumped the contents of several trash cans all over them as everyone applauded, then simply strode inside, telling the nearest policemen he would pay the fine for littering later. Needless to say, our mood is quite good as we enter the holiday season, and why shouldn’t it be? We’ve had a hell of year, we’re finishing up these articles, we’ve made far more friends than enemies, and there’s other good news as well, which I’ll leave to my counterpart at the Manehattan Post to tell. Welcome back, Hot Topic! —Kalido Tenna, Chief Editor, New York Life Magazine Manehattan Post Owner’s Note: Thank you, Kalido, and I’m very sorry to have made everyone worry so much. Yes, I’m back… and so is my Gentleman!!!! As I’m sure all have read by now in the front page article, I stumbled upon a Changeling plot to kidnap humans and ponies to harvest love from them orchestrated by no less than Queen Chrysalis, who, though not involved in the earlier attacks on us, was a rank opportunist who took immediate advantage of them. In fact, it would appear that it was she who leaked some of the names of our exposed Gentlemen, not the HERD crowd, trying to cause them to flee and thus become easy to capture and not be missed if it was simply assumed they were in hiding. He and several other humans were found in a Changeling hive, contained in these… pods… that kept them in a dreamlike state to extract love from them to power her army. To my great relief, Chris was alive and unharmed along with the others—they needed them alive to get love from them, after all. But in that state they had little sense of anything including the passage of time; he had no idea how long he’d been there, but immediately recognized me, saying he was just continually dreaming about making love to various clients, but mostly me the whole time! How could I not hug him for that? The last thing he could remember was getting off a train in Hoofington late at night when he was fleeing Manehattan after having his identity revealed, feeling magic wash over him, and then nothing. I couldn’t have done it without the help of Lady Delta Requiem, who acted as both my bodyguard and liaison to the authorities; she was there to protect me when I was finally confronted by Chrysalis’ agents and defeated them, I swear, by simply singing! But I hasten to add that my investigation was also aided, hard as it may be for some to believe, by other Changelings opposed to Chrysalis, drones belonging to rival hives who approached me to warn me I was in danger. They hid me and passed me information as needed, and in the end led us to where the kidnap victims were kept. The lab, for lack of a better term, was raided by the Royal Guard, and their prisoners freed. Several Changelings were captured, and the information they’ve given up is leading to other labs as well. Whatever Chrysalis was planning is thwarted now, and I take no small amount of pride in the fact that it was my stubbornness and good reporter sense that helped bring her down. I’ve heard it said that a pony is defined by not just their friends but the enemies they’ve made, and I know I’ve made a few major ones over the past year, from the HERD crowd to these social justice idiots to now Queen Chrysalis herself. Well, queenie, you can bluster at me all you want, but you’re exposed now. And that’s my job as a journalist. Regardless, my wonderful Chris is back now, and was greeted with many cheers and hugs by his friends when I returned with him to the G4M office. Not surprisingly, he wishes to leave the life now, and just proposed to me! I have eagerly accepted, needless to say, and now look forward to having him all to myself. But enough about me, it’s time once again for the mistress of men to tell her tale, as we approach what I assume to be the final act, with Platinum Corona’s introduction. My Gentleman and I are both looking forward to what happens next, Five Stars! —Hot Topic, Owner and Founder, Manehattan Post magazine I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear this, Hot Topic, to say nothing of how relieved I was to see him upon his return! I hugged and kissed him myself—I helped train him, after all—and was very happy I got to witness him getting on his knee and proposing to you in the human manner, presenting you with a ring. G4M has lost one of its best Gentlemen, but a mare has gained companionship for life. And that’s ultimately what this job is about and what makes it so gratifying, seeing scenes like this happen. I admit I felt a bit guilty that it was my articles that helped set these events in motion, but that heartfelt hug I got from him made it all go away. In fact, the first thing he asked for from me was a copy of the articles he’d missed over the past several months! We were only too happy to provide them, and threw a party in his honor. Not all endings are happy ones, I know from personal experience. But this one was. Welcome home, Hot Topic! I’m not sure what to think of the idea that dissident Changelings actually helped you, but I am suddenly reminded of that letter Aurora and Corona left for Rising Star in the aftermath of the Changeling attack on Canterlot. Two Changelings I knew without knowing it, who were perfectly friendly, if a bit secretive, and who complained that all Changelings were NOT the same but were being treated like it. As much as I get on Equestrian society for not being as tolerant as it should be at times, this is one instance where my own biases keep creeping in. I couldn’t imagine what I would do if I suddenly discovered that someone I knew was in fact seeing a Changeling, but clearly, it happens, and it’s difficult to fault them for doing what they have to in order to survive. But… I’m not going to linger on that for now. As November closes out and these articles near their end, it’s time to to describe the events that led to the establishment of Gentlemen for Mares proper, and the role I’m proud to say I played in it. To be sure, I’m going to condense it down somewhat—I doubt anypony really cares to hear about all the tax and legal issues which plagued us during the G4M founding, some of which I feel to this day were the result of various ponies trying to stop the company from getting off the ground—but there were plenty of interesting things to happen as well, and I’ll touch on them all in turn. A Business Proposal So there I was in Delta’s private studio, standing before her and her Saddle Arabian guest in some confusion. Far from being a liaison for Delta’s coming tour of her homeland, the large veiled Saddle Arabian said she had come specifically to see me! “A business proposal?” I repeated the stranger’s words back, looking between her and Delta repeatedly. “I’m not sure I understand…” “Then by all means, let me explain, Miss Five Stars,” she said with a second bow. I could just see the hints of a smile beneath her veil, though I wasn’t quite sure why Delta seemed to be positively mirthful, smiling like she was trying to stifle giggles. “I believe that you would be the perfect pony to help me a start a new business; one that would take advantage of the opening of the portal, and the many new human visitors and workers we now expect. A business that will need considerable dedication and business acumen to get off the ground—both of which are qualities I’m told you indisputably possess.” “I see, but… why me?” I said, somehow less concerned at that moment with what the business might be then the fact she was asking me to leave Delta’s employ, which was something I really didn’t want to do. I’d not just enjoyed working for her, but she’d helped me greatly as well over that time, which earned a great deal of loyalty in my book. “I was referred to you by no less than Princess Cadance herself, who was apparently very impressed by your professionalism and organizational skills during the first visit of humanity to our world… to say nothing of what you told her about your human coltfriend.” I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pain at that, and our guest must have noticed, as her eyes softened. “I see you still miss him. Well, perchance that can soon be helped…” she told me, making me immediately perk up. “For my idea is to establish a business called Gentleman for Mares.” She paused to let the name sink in. “One that, as its name suggests, provides human male company to the lonely mares among us…” A Business Case My jaw fell slack as her words registered and I read between the lines. I have to admit, I didn’t immediately know what to say or do. Certainly, my first reaction was one of revulsion—I mean, you were planning to turn human men into comfort horses? I had way too much respect for them to do that! How could I look Shaun in the eye if I got involved with something like that? Or even myself in the mirror? Again, my expression betrayed me, so she held up a hoof. “Please hear me out, Miss Five Stars. I know how it must sound, and how it must first feel. So let me start by assuring you, I do not intend to impress human stallions into bedroom service as was the case in some olden times. I merely wish to establish a company that offers very willing, well-paid and well-versed human escorts up for an evening of companionship, and whether or not it turns sexual is completely up to the client.” I wasn’t sure I believed her, and suddenly wondered if Saddle Arabia was so backwards in comparison to Equestria as to allow such things. “And… what do you get out of this?” I finally asked, more wary than ever. If this was a joke, I didn’t find it that funny, and apparently even Delta’s mirth had worn off as she saw my reaction. The large veiled mare met my gaze evenly. “It is not simply money, if that is what you are thinking. I assure you, I have plenty. I simply see a need that can finally be filled thanks to this new world we are now neighbors with. I seek to take advantage of what humanity can offer—a large number of males who, as I believe you yourself have proven, are perfectly compatible with ponies, both physically and emotionally,” she told me. “Tell me, if you could share what you felt with your human lover with the many lonely mares out there… would you?” That gave me some pause. Part of me interpreted that as sharing Shaun, which I had no wish to do regardless of how selfish some might find it. But to share the experience of human love, which to my best knowledge only myself and Lyra Heartstrings had known to the point… “I… might, yes…” I said cautiously, still far from convinced about this idea or the motivation behind it. “But… I really don’t know I feel about… turning men into comfort horses,” I finally spat out the distasteful term. “It seems demeaning and I can’t get over the idea that we’d be treating them same way as house-kept stallions of old.” “I assure you, nothing could be further from the truth, my dear,” she passed me a sheet showing proposed salaries and benefits for a typical… ‘Gentleman’ was the word she used; an odd play on gentlecolt, I thought. Needless to say, their salary was very healthy, and so was that of the ‘trainers’ they would need. “Wait…” I tapped the next sheet. “Trainers?” This time, she hesitated slightly. “Those we hire would not be immediately knowledgeable in pony culture, either societal or sexual, Miss Five Stars. So they will have to be… taught… by those who are.” Again, I read between the lines and found myself having to sit back heavily as I suddenly realized what she was saying. To my shock, I found the idea of it surprisingly heady—she wanted pony mares to teach human men how to have sex with them! But the only way to do that was… “Indeed, Miss Five Stars,” She bowed her head fractionally as if she read the thoughts going through my head. “They will learn by doing, and then, if all goes well, bring that knowledge forth to provide the satisfaction and companionship that so many other mares miss. And I see that that part of the job appeals to you.” She smiled again beneath her veil. How could I deny it? It did. Part of me was disgusted that I could so easily discard thoughts of Shaun in favor of anonymous males we’d be recruiting somehow, but… after a year-plus away from him, I really, really wanted to feel a human’s touch again. Those hands, their warm, smooth skin, that sweet and spicy smell they had, their willingness to dote and do things few stallions ever did… the more sensible part of me tried to tell me that there was no guarantee that other humans would be as good or friendly as Shaun, but Lyra Heartstring’s experience was quite close to mine with a different human entirely. Once was fluke, twice was a coincidence. And if it had happened a third time…? The more I thought about it the more I realized I really did want it to happen a third time. Meeting a Need Though this may surprise some to hear, I did not accept her offer right away, asking for some time to think it over. A full week, in fact, where I neither slept that well or, with apologies to Delta, I wasn’t all that focused on my work. I ended up apologizing to her, but she just chuckled like she’d been expecting it, asking if I wanted to talk it over with her. Indeed, I did. We discussed it a great length in a private booth over a surprisingly good dinner at a recently opened and slightly off-the-beaten-path restaurant called simply the ‘Tasty Treat’. The food was certainly delicious and quite different—their spice levels would even give yours a run, Cayenne!—and I hadn’t been idle even before this; I’d examined Platinum’s business plan, done some planning of my own in my head, mentally stepping through everything that would need to happen and even written it down in rough order it would need to happen in. I’d reviewed her documents over and over, and no matter how many holes I poked in her business plan itself, I kept coming back to one simple fact of business: Supply and demand. There were many times more mares than stallions… Thus, there was a huge demand for male companionship that stallions could simply not meet… But we had just met a world full of males, even if they were bipedal primates… Ones I had personally proven were very adaptable and compatible with ponies, willing to do things for mares few stallions ever would. In short, as insane as it initially seemed… her plan could actually work! She’d clearly put a great deal of thought into it, and from the funding sheets she’d given me was willing to invest an equal amount of capital to make it happen. She even had the backing of Princess Cadance, who I greatly liked—how could I not after all she’d done for me?—and the only thing she was missing was a pony to act point for her who knew Equestrian business laws and had experience setting up a new one. In other words, me! Trust Delta to notice, asking me gently if I wanted to do this. I still wasn’t 100% certain I was at that point, but I told her the truth—yes, I was starting to seriously consider it, but I had to know—was she okay with this entire crazy idea? In response, she smiled a bit sadly, reaching across to put her hoof over mine. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think it was crazy to start, Five Stars… but just like you, the more I think about it, the less insane it seems. Platinum Corona really wants to make this happen, and I certainly know that there’d be more than a few mares who would jump at the chance to be attended by stallion… instead of always attending them. And besides, if you think about it, the biggest market for this might be mares in heat. Imagine being attended by a male who couldn’t get you pregnant?” she chuckled, causing me to start—I hadn’t even thought about that! She was right! We talked some more, and I told her that as increasingly tempted as I was, I really didn’t want to leave her after all she’d done for me. “I don’t want to lose you either, Five Stars. You’ve been the best business manager I’ve ever had,” she told me, giving me a sad smile again like she knew my decision was already a foregone conclusion… which, as I look back on it now, it probably on some level was. “But… she may need you more. I’m proud of you, Five Stars. You hit bottom and then bounced back, and now I have no reservation about recommending you for something like this. So if this is what you wish… I will not stand in your way.” I thanked her and asked her, as I often did when I felt troubled, to sing me a song to help settle my mind. She smiled and did so, offering an improvised melody about forks in the road, of choices made and regrets for paths not taken. She wasn’t trying to make me decide either way, just think about one or two things I hadn’t, and one of them was: would I have more regrets if I didn’t take this offer and make the attempt, even if it didn’t work out? She promised me that if it didn’t, she would welcome me back just as she had before—that I always had a home with her. Knowing that made things much easier for me, and two days after that dinner, I went to the Saddle Arabian embassy and left a note for Platinum Corona saying I wished to meet with her face to face. A Business Plan I didn’t have long to wait. She found me the very next day, inviting me to dinner at the Saddle Arabian embassy. While we were served a royal feast by oversized stallions—they do grow them big out there!—I told her I was leaning towards accepting, but I had some definite concerns that needed to be addressed first based on her business proposal. Some were simply legal items—I wasn’t entirely sure what laws would apply here; whether human males would fall under the heavily restricted ‘comfort horse’ category, and I was also curious exactly how she thought we were going to find enough willing men to make this any more than a small operation serving a few mares. I mean, at that point we couldn’t exactly advertise for them, given I was fully aware (I thought) of the backlash such a business could generate on both sides of the portal, and to that end I also wanted to know how she was going to handle the negative publicity and stigma such an operation was certain to garner, which could be the kiss of death for a new business—particularly one in a field that didn’t even yet exist. “You don’t get a second chance to make a first impression,” I reminded her, and my own first impression to the very idea of Gentleman for Mares was overwhelmingly negative. “I am aware, Miss Five Stars,” she said as she poured me some jasmine tea, “and thus I was thinking that we do not go public right away, until we have an established and very satisfied client base. It can be small at first; what is important is that we gain a dedicated clientele. Be assured I am playing a long game here, and I don’t mind a year or two of losses before turning our first profit.” That brought up another point. How was she planning to structure the prices for our… offerings? Were we charging by the hour, or by the night? Would we have different levels of service? Would different Gentleman garner different rates? My questions came quickly now; I wasn’t even bothering to read from the list of concerns I’d written down earlier. What were the terms of payment? Did we expect it all up front, or afterwards? What if a mare was unsatisfied? What was their recourse, and what was to stop them from simply claiming they didn’t enjoy an encounter to not pay? I admit I was trying to trip her up a bit, simply because I really didn’t believe she’d thought a lot of this through, but it turned out she already had. “Your eye for organization and detail is not lacking, Miss Five Stars,” she grinned again beneath her veil and passed me a new scroll, one that hadn’t been in her original packet. I felt a bit sandbagged as I scanned through it, realizing that it contained the answers to most of my questions laid out in exact terms. And the fact that she had withheld it… “Yes, I was testing you, Miss Five Stars,” she granted with a bow of her head. “Please forgive me, but I wanted to see if your business acumen was truly as good as I was told and could pick out obvious problems with my proposal. Be assured, you have passed this test with flying colors, and you have satisfied me that you are indeed the right mare for the job. So it is my great hope that you will join me in bringing Gentleman for Mares to life.” * * * * * I didn’t accept the offer that night, or the next one either. In fact, I took two entire months to make my decision, running through endless scenarios in my head, spending most of my time at the library researching Equestrian law and trying to anticipate what roadblocks we might run into, as well as everything that would have to happen in what order. I filled out page after page of notes, even sketched out a rough timeline and necessary progression of events that would bring us our first clients in the space of a year… If I accepted the offer. As impressed as I was by Platinum Corona I couldn’t help but feel she was being deliberately coy and still holding some things back from me. It wasn’t that I thought she wanted to treat males like commodities like comfort stallions of old—I mean, if that were the case, she just needed to find some backwater towns or villages with some down-on-their luck colts she could pay a pittance—it was that I couldn’t shake the sense that there was more happening here than I knew. A couple times I started to write Shaun to ask him his opinion of the matter, only to realize it would take a month or more to get an answer back, and then he’d probably just feel guilty again about not being there for me. No, I wasn’t going to put him through that; this decision had to be mine and mine alone. But uncertainty still stood over me, as it had often in the past over difficult choices I had to make. Typically, I’d reacted to them by avoidance or escape… until the last time, anyway, when Delta had been forced to set me straight over my bad reaction to what happened with Miral. And as it happened, it would be the memory of him that finally pushed me to accept. The Cloven War Ten days after my dinner with Platinum, there was a fresh uproar in the streets, and no little consternation for it. Word had reached us that the Gryphon Kingdom had suffered a surprise attack and was now at war, in a struggle for survival against an ancient and implacable enemy called the Cloven of the Sun… one that had nearly annihilated them a millennium past. Human soldiers—marines, I’m quickly corrected by a Gentleman who was present there (“Ooo-rah!” said Gentleman salutes and shouts)—were apparently involved as the attack had happened during a diplomatic trade mission from one of the major nations of Earth, and they had sent a sizable military detachment with their diplomats, having heard (I guessed) that the griffons respected power and combat prowess. They were said to be fighting quite well, and the griffons themselves were putting up a very stout resistance. My thoughts immediately went to Miral. Was he okay? Was he fighting? I still couldn’t fathom the idea of males in combat to the extent that we now knew humans had them involved, but the gryphons did so as well as they lacked our skewed gender ratios. Initial reports were not good, and the Royal Guard and Wonderbolts were trying to find a way to get there fast enough to help. As is well known, they and the Princesses eventually did arrive at the end, assisting in the climactic battle that, as it turned out, was only made possible by the presence of human soldiers who brought weapons and tactics to the table the Cloven were not ready for, buying sufficient time for the gryphons to solidify their defenses and Equestrian forces to help turn the tide. It was but a three-week war, but countless griffons and ponies fell in it, including many Caleponians; I later learned that many of the places I’d visited during Delta’s tour of the Kingdom were captured by the Cloven, and all inside killed or… converted, shall we say. The thought still gives me chills to this day. But even without knowing it, I couldn’t sleep during that period. For all the carnage said to be happening, my thoughts were of just one individual. What had happened to Miral? I’d nearly forgotten about him in the wake of what had happened with Shaun, but I still had strong feelings for him, and I found myself poring over news reports and even visiting the gryphon consulate asking for news. I was told there was long list of ponies and griffons who lived in Equestria asking the same question as me, and I could only be given the same answer—they had no information and likely wouldn’t for some time. I prayed for his safety and swore on the sun and moon that if he survived, I would get in touch with him again, meet him and hug him, apologize for how I’d treated him… But it was already too late. When the war ended in triumph for the Kingdom, news of individual griffons filtered back slowly. Eventually, the long list of individual inquiries the gryphon embassy was answering finally caught up to mine, and I received a brief statement: Miral was listed as missing, having not been seen since having taken a group of human visitors out on a tour of a steadholt on the first day of the attack. I felt a tightness in my chest and sense of intense coldness clutch at my heart. It didn’t say he was dead, and my mind tried to spin all sorts of fantasy scenarios where he had somehow survived, fighting heroically, and yet… I knew then and there he was gone, and all I could do for it was cry. * * * * * In the end, that letter was what pushed me to accept Platinum’s offer. In the end, life was too short to vacillate endlessly like I was doing, a fact now driven home by the Cloven War, and in an odd way, I reasoned that I’d be honoring Miral’s memory by helping to build a business that would offer interspecies affairs such as we had shared. I had no idea what he would think of me for doing it, but it was the only way I could think to give his death and our time together meaning, by helping other mares to find happiness in the arms of other races as he had once done for me. Thus, I went to the Saddle Arabian embassy and told Platinum Corona I would accept her offer the following day. An Offer Accepted Far from being delighted, Platinum was actually quite concerned at first, saying Delta had informed her about the letter I’d received, as I had opened it in her presence, wanting her emotional support in case it said the worst. She said she understood if I was upset and in mourning, and didn’t want me to make this decision out of grief. My response was instant: that I wasn’t doing so out of grief, but out of love, both for Miral and Shaun, seeking to honor all they’d done for me. I told her that I was through endlessly agonizing over a decision that should be easy, and the letter had simply shocked me to my senses. That I would do everything in my power to bring Gentleman for Mares to life, if she would still have me. Her response was to bow deeply, saying she was honored to have me with her. She then asked me to come by the next day so we could start the process in earnest, even offering me an office and quarters in the embassy. But before I could do that, one other matter had to be addressed. And that was to tender my resignation to Delta. For as much as I ended up agonizing over the wording of it, trying to thank her as profusely as I could for all she’d done for me and apologizing for leaving her employ, in the end, she accepted it with surprising ease. “I knew this would happen since pretty much day one, Five Stars,” she told me with a slightly wan grin, and immediately wrote me a very fat severance cheque. I offered to stay on until she could hire somepony else, but she said no—that if she couldn’t handle her own affairs for at least a few weeks, then she was just as helpless as the pretentious Canterlot ponies she disdained. She hugged me goodbye, told me to come to her if I ever needed anything—an offer I did not avail myself of until just recently when I asked her to help out with security and finding Hot Topic’s missing Gentleman—and wished me well. And just like that, my long tenure as her business manager was done. In its place, I was now heading into the unknown, having no idea what awaited me. And yet, somehow, deep down I at least knew this: For all I’d been through and as far as I’d come, I was now up to the challenge. Full Circle After taking a few days off to clear my head fully and make sure all my thoughts and ideas were in order, I started work, taking Platinum up on her offer to give me an office and apartment in the Saddle Arabian embassy. It was bit of an adjustment at first, suddenly finding myself in a slightly alien culture again—there were times I felt like a small foal among all these much larger mares and stallions wearing exotic dress—but I also couldn’t argue with my well-appointed office and suite. The first thing we needed to do was secure a headquarters. And though I initially thought Canterlot would be the natural choice since just about every other major company had theirs in the capital city, I quickly realized that would dramatically raise our rent costs and perhaps subject us to more stringent oversight. No, for our purposes we needed a city that was more laid back, one that had a lower cost of property or at least cost of doing business, something that was reasonably close to the portal but also had many other attractions close by, a place located aside major travel lanes and offering a very wide variety of entertainment options. And given that list, there were but two real options: Manehattan, or Las Pegasus. The former I didn’t want anything to do with at first, having started my journey there and left it in the unhappy manner I had all those years earlier; there was also a definite danger, I feared, that if Harvest got wind that I was attempting to put together a new business venture in the city, she’d try to shut it down out of spite. But Las Pegasus had bad associations with it as well; just the thought of going back there caused me to break out in a cold sweat. Ember and Acacia were there, to be certain, but so were Aces Up and Double Down, who I still could not forgive at the time and did not want to see. Rising Star would help us if asked, of that I had no doubt, but… I finally smacked my forehead hard with my hoof to cut off these thoughts. I couldn’t make this decision based on my personal feelings, so I set about looking for buildings for rent or sale in both locations, or at least lots we could build on. The latter would mean a delay, but also give us more control over what we needed. Land was at a premium in Manehattan, while some was still available in Las Pegasus, but rental and building rates there were astronomical anywhere near a favorable location. The more research I did, the more Manehattan looked like the right place. More cosmopolitan and less of a resort city, a vibrant metropolis that had just about anything you could want short of massive interspecies orgies. Okay, that’s an exaggeration (or at least it only happens on New Year’s!), but the point was, it was a bit more down-to-earth, as humans say, and it seemed more likely we’d be able to do things on our terms there. It had the added advantage of being on both sea and air travel routes with a constant stream of ponies in and out, to say nothing of proximity to attractions like Antlertic City, Neighagra Falls or the scenic Foal Mountains. And if Harvest objected? Well, I had the backing of a Royal Court Bard and a wealthy Saddle Arabian diplomat, so I rather hoped she would. In that case, I’d happily use my new friends to rub her face in the fact that she no longer held power over me. My decision made, I presented my findings to Platinum and headed off to Manehattan at her expense. The train ride took but a day, and I stepped off at midtown to behold a city I hadn’t seen in nearly ten years. I’d be lying to say I didn’t have some flashbacks to many memories as I saw the skyline again, both good and bad, but I quashed them by reminding myself that I was not even remotely the mare I was back then. Before, I was just a hotel concierge chased out of her herd and trying to leave her pain behind. But now…? Now, I was a far older, wiser and in some ways sadder mare, but also one who finally knew exactly who and what she was. Harvest could kiss my flank; I was going to make this city our new home and headquarters. I could go on, but this seems like a natural stopping point, and as it turns out, duty calls. G4M is opening a brand new branch office, and I’m actually due to head out to it and teach a few classes there to newly-hired Gentlemen. I look forward to meeting them, and their new trainers as well. No, I will not be training them myself, as I don’t want to impose on the mares assigned that duty; I’m simply giving a few seminars on pony culture and how to deal with the peculiar pressures of being a Gentleman. So where is this branch office? You’ll find out in due course… as well as what happened in the first year of G4M’s existence. Hard as it is to believe, just two more articles remain, and I once again remind all readers that we will be having a final Q&A session to cap off this year-long run, so be sure and submit your questions to the magazines! It’s been a blast despite all the low points we encountered, and I cannot thank both magazines and all our many readers enough. Truly, I had no idea how my life would change (yet again!) for writing all this; the celebrity I would find and all the reunions this trip down memory lane would lead to. Maybe I should be saving these thank-yous for later, but I’m already feeling nostalgic now. Our Gentleman just had ‘Thanksgiving’, after all, and now I find plenty to be thankful for myself… though you’ll forgive me, Cayenne and everyone else, if I decline the offer to actually eat a flying boar or bread-stuffed bird! > Part 25: Birth of a Business > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – Birth of a Business By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post Magazines December 7 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: Cold weather arrives, and with it the first light dusting of snow as holiday decorations go up in our office. Despite the damp and chill, the mood is good here as we reach December and hit the holiday season. Despite the lawsuits, despite the harassment, despite the danger we were occasionally in and everything else that happened along the way, the New York Life magazine has had a very good year financially, between issues flying off of newsstands and all the revenue our online issue had gotten, to say nothing of the donations we racked up. The latter’s purpose remains as it was originally was; a legal defense fund that keeps us afloat no matter how much lawfare our enemies wage, while the former is, of course, for shareholders and the employees who stuck with us even through all the low points we experienced, determined to keep the presses running and the issues coming no matter what. Christmas bonuses will be very healthy this year, and well-earned. It seems our adversaries aren’t out of tricks yet, however. Though protests have dwindled as the weather turns and interest is lost along with their anything-but-social-justice cause, they’re now trying to ‘dox’ us, publish the names and addresses of our members, homes and families and invite people to ‘let us know how they feel’. Ignoring the point that they make sure everyone knows how they feel by screaming the loudest and acting obnoxious on a regular basis, I’d be more worried about that if we didn’t have eagle and equine eyes in the sky watching over us, and police on the ground as well. We have escorts, even if you don’t see them, as at least one group of five protesters found out when they tried to corner one of my intern editors on a subway and found themselves facing down not a young woman but a trio of protectors, including an earth pony, unicorn and griffon. Suffice it to say, given the injury and embarrassment they suffered, to say nothing of being escorted off in handcuffs to the applause of other travelers, they won’t be trying that again. Or maybe they will. They’ve demonstrated amply they’re utter idiots incapable of learning. Our lawsuit, by the way, against the colleges where many of them come from is going forward but won’t be heard until next year. If victorious, we plan to use the money for college and scholarship funds and donate a decent chunk to proper free speech causes as well. Hard to believe, but this is the second-to-last article. Been a long road since their start in January, but even for all we’ve been through, I wouldn’t have given them up for anything. We made money to be sure, but made a lot of new friendships too, and I know which I value more at this point. I used to scoff at this, but friendship truly is magic, and this whole ordeal drew us together in ways I never imagined possible. In the end, I daresay we’ve done good deeds for a good cause, regardless of what others say, and with the end of these articles now in sight, I’m proud of our decision to run them. But enough about us. It’s time to turn it back over to the most terrible creature on either world, the mare whose name is now mud with both stallions and feminists for celebrating men and masculinity. Take it away, Five Stars! —Kalido Tenna, Chief Editor, New York Life Magazine Manehattan Post Owner’s Note: Yes, I only get how truly terrible she must be since I visited Manhattan myself, Kalido. I wish you and your staff all the best this coming holiday season, and invite our many friends at the New York Life Magazine across the portal to attend the coming wedding of myself and Chris, aka “Scoop” (no, that really was his call sign! Probably one of the reasons I originally selected him as my Gentleman a year or two back!), tentatively scheduled for next summer in the Crystal Kingdom, where Platinum Corona has somehow retained the services of no less than our very Princess of Love, Mi Amore Cadenza herself to conduct the ceremony! There’s been no further incidents here, I’m happy to say, though we’re keeping watch for changelings via various methods. Queen Chrysalis, I’m warned, doesn’t take kindly to having her plans thwarted. Well, since I know you’re probably reading this, take it from me, Your Highness… you’re not as high and mighty as you think. You give all Changelings a very bad name, and most want nothing to do with you. I learned that in the course of tracking down Chris. We’re wise to you now, and we’ve got plenty of people and ponies watching over us, so come after me or Chris again at your peril. But enough idle threats. Chris and I have been making up for lost time, and his G4M contract has been voided by Platinum Corona given what happened to him, meaning he’s now a free man… one who has selected me, and I couldn’t love him more for it. —Hot Topic, Owner and Founder, Manehattan Post magazine Once again, my congratulations to you both, Hot Topic! I’m definitely looking forward to the wedding next summer, and I’m truly honored by your request for me to be a bridesmaid along with his handler and other trainers. I also hear he’s already selected his own ‘best man’ and ‘groomsmen’ for the occasion among his Gentleman and stallion friends. One interesting side effect of these articles is that for all the anger we’ve received from jilted stallions, we’ve actually had a few stallions start coming to us asking for training in becoming better lovers for their marefriends and herdmates! That is particularly gratifying to me, as I have said that one of my goals was to make stallions not take their mares for granted and realize that there’s more to rutting than, well, rutting. It would seem some have actually taken that to heart, and are actively trying! It’s funny, actually… I seem to recall that in the last Q&A session, a human question writer asked if such training would be made available, and the answer is now yes—it’s starting to become a bit of a side business for us; we now have a few stallions sitting in on our classes! And do they get training? They have to pay for it, but yes, they may. Which, by the way, is a very interesting reversal—stallions paying for mares to have sex with them? Who would have thought such a thing would ever be? I did complete my duties at the new branch office. As it’s now attracted its own motley group of protestors, it would appear the secret’s out, so there’s no point in me not saying it’s in Hoofington, an industrial city on the edge of the Everfree. I consider it a mark of our success in that even places that aren’t large cities or entertainment centers can support a G4M branch office, and I visited for what was actually the second time in several months in order to give our Gentleman a few final lessons as well as their final exams… though this time I had to take my bodyguards with me. To this point, they haven’t had to intervene directly to protect me, as just the sight of two large and intimidating griffons tends to keep trouble at bay. Still, as I was down there, I couldn’t help but reflect that these few men together with a ‘handful’ of secretaries, trainers and security staff were all that we originally started with in Manehattan too. Our beginnings were even more humble there, in fact, given that we didn’t have any existing experience or established procedures to draw upon, and if I said I thought then we’d take off the way we have, I’d be lying. Back then, the struggle was just to get G4M off the ground with nothing more than myself and Platinum’s business plan. We had to learn as we go, and believe me, we made more than a few mistakes along the way… Return to Manehattan Manehattan, I decided, really hadn’t changed much in twelve years. Still the same hustle and bustle, still the same sights for the most part, the only real difference was that there were at least a few humans around. To my surprise, I already found myself appraising them as potential Gentleman, though at that point I didn’t know how I could judge them without first bedding them. I daresay Platinum was right and part of me was definitely looking forward to that part of the job… Still, that had to wait, as the first thing I needed to do was secure us a headquarters. I spent the next week or two inspecting several sites and contacting their owners, asking if they’d be willing to part with their property for the proper amount of bits. Several offered to rent us their buildings at exorbitant rates in place of selling, but I declined. Not for the cost, but because I didn’t want them to hold power over us and kick us out when they found out what we were doing. Yes, I was deliberately coy about that to start, only telling them that we sought to open a new human/pony entertainment agency. And if they asked for details, I said that it was to promote cultural exchanges between our two peoples. I mean, that was the truth, right? So, Platinum had agreed with me that it was better to own than rent, and was willing to spread enough bits around to make it happen, though she did ask me not to break her Saddle Arabian bank with an expensive purchase. So my interest was more geared towards older and occasionally run down buildings in the old midtown theater district. I got uncomfortably close to the street the Shemareaton was on a few times, and found myself looking around for Harvest once or twice, but I needn’t have bothered. Even during our herd years she rarely left the hotel. To my surprise, I did run into somepony I knew, finding my old coworker at the Shemareaton florist, Morning Glow, now running her own open-air flower shop on the street! We hugged and caught up over lunch, and she told me she’d had to leave the hotel too as Harvest got ever-more overbearing and intolerable. She of course asked me what brought me back, and against my better judgment I told her the truth simply because she’d been too good a friend to lie to. I could see her mind grind to a screeching halt as my words registered, and suddenly I had a new appreciation to how I must have looked when I heard the suggestion for the first time. In the end, all she could do was ask a single word: “Why?” When I gave my answer, I don’t know which shocked her more—the business I was hoping to start, or the fact that I told her the main reason was that I’d been with a human and loved it, and now wanted to share what I’d experienced with other mares. Her brain spent the better part of a minute processing that, and then she asked with some trepidation how it was, being with ‘a primate predator’? So what could I say to that (other than correcting her to say they were omnivores, not griffon-like predators) except to share the whole story of my time together with Shaun? By the end of it, she was enrapt and her mind clearly turning. I daresay she’d had the exact progression of reactions I had—initially thinking it was insane to suddenly realizing it could actually work. We ended up chatting for hours, and she even offered me some business advice based on her experience trying to run her own small flower stand, telling me about the pitfalls she’d encountered just trying to get her various licences in order. I wasn’t sure how relevant it was to me, but I did take note of a couple ponies she said not to run afoul of. So why am I sharing this anecdote, you ask? Well, much like when I later asked myself why I’d told her about G4M, the answer won’t become apparent until later. But, suffice it to say for now, I ended up very glad I did. A New Home During this time, I stayed at a posh hotel—not the Shemareaton, obviously, but I admit I did make it a point to stay at one of its main competitors as perhaps some minor spite against Harvest (and I do apologize to you now for this, Harvest, but back then, my memories of you were not at all pleasant ones!) Actually, I wouldn’t even have stayed in a luxury hotel at all but for the fact Platinum insisted, telling me to eat and sleep well while I was out there. Which I did, but I still had a job to do. By the end of two weeks, I’d narrowed my search down to three properties. One was an expensive office building that was already mostly ready to go, one was a cheaper but slightly dilapidated old nightclub that had seen better years, and then the last being a complete wreck of an old theater building that hadn’t been occupied in three decades being offered at rock-bottom price. The last might have tempted me more except I had it inspected and was told that the total cost to bring it up to code and renovated for our needs would result in double the cost of the most expensive choice, so that was out. The first I also crossed off the list simply because we’d still have to renovate for our needs on top of its already high cost, while the second… The old nightclub already had most of the features we needed, from the large first-floor entertainment area to the back offices and most of the work needed was cosmetic; the combined cost of purchase and upgrades was cheapest. So, after clearing the place with Platinum via dragonfire letters—also my most expensive option for sending correspondence—I got the place inspected to catalog all the issues (there were a few I missed!) and tendered an offer. A week of back-and-forth, offer-and-counteroffer later, and the papers were signed by Platinum. It was her money, so it became her building, and we started moving in our still-meager company possessions the very next day. Spare No Expense I thought I had a pretty good idea of what she wanted to do with the building, but this was one instance where Platinum insisted on directing things herself. She consulted with the architects and interior designers I lined up, and in the end went with what she thought worked best, saying only that she ‘chose based on what would make both Gentleman and client, handler and trainer feel most comfortable’. There were times I thought she was being a bit too finicky, but I had to admit it all ended up working out quite well. Within a month crews were going to work, transforming the interior and facade to meet her specifications, even if they didn’t quite understand for what. I do recall hearing some snickers on the crew when they learned that some of the adjustments they were making, like higher doors, were for humans. Apparently, teasing the few seen in the city via flagged tails and other means was a favorite pastime with the local mares. I wasn’t sure if that boded well or not. I wasn’t idle during this time. I was trying to secure our various business licenses and submit our articles of incorporation. Bureaucracy demanded its due and I managed to pick my way through the obstacle course it presented—I do have to say, ‘red tape’ is a pretty good way to describe it as I often found myself trapped in a tangle of it, with each city agency pointing me to another one for some standard I needed to meet or sign-off I needed to get; more than once the references ended up being circular. I shared my frustrations with Platinum a few times, but she just chuckled and reminded me to be patient and that I didn’t have to have it all done right away—that it’d be many weeks before the renovations were complete and longer than that before we could start business operations, suggesting that I instead start focusing on how we were going to recruit both men and mares to our ranks. We’d discussed that some before, and we both agreed it was best to begin with a small and select group we personally screened. It’s a model that remains in effect now for setting up new branch offices, like I said before; most recently with the Hoofington branch. Start small, grow large, branch off when you get too big for your horseshoes and start the cycle over again. Much as I may have wanted to start in on recruiting Gentleman first, Platinum rightly vetoed that suggestion even as she chuckled at my enthusiasm. We needed to get our staff settled first, she reminded me, meaning we needed to find and hire a dozen employees that would range from doctors to trainers to ‘handlers’—an unfamiliar term at first to me; ponies had no real concept of ‘hands’ before humans and thus no words based on it—to say nothing of security guards and barmares from the front lounge area, which was going to more or less remain a nightclub that would serve two purposes—help us pull some money right away while our real business got going, and also, when the time came, become a meeting area for Gentlemen and their clients; a place where humans and ponies could go to mingle generally. I suggested to Platinum that such an idea could actually end up undermining our business if ponies and people found themselves without our help or having to pay for it, but she just chuckled at that. “If they do, so much the better, Five Stars, but somehow I don’t think that will be an issue. Take it from me—these things will not happen on a large scale without considerable help.” And just what made her so sure? “I am more experienced in these matters than you might guess. Saddle Arabia borders Zebrica as well as the Gryphon Kingdom, and believe me when I say that pairings between them tend to happen out of sight, not in it. Our task will be, in time, to bring such unions out of the shadows and make them acceptable to all.” I told her that sounded like she was planning to make her own business one day obsolete, but she just chuckled again. “It’s but a means to an end, my dear Five Stars. And by that time, if we are fortunate enough to still be in business, than I will consider its work complete, and we will evolve it into something new.” I had no idea what that meant, but it was also so far in the future as to not be worth worrying about. I had enough on my hooves as it was! Recruitment Platinum set some strict yet sensible rules for our pony recruitment process, and number one was that even for security guards and secretaries—in other words, ponies that wouldn’t be directly involved with training or managing Gentlemen—we would not hide from them what we were doing; they had to be okay with it or they would not be hired. That meant, of course, we had to spill the beans to them as we lined up our first interviews. First up was a security force for guarding our building and playing bouncer if needs be. To that end, I deliberately looked to non-ponies—griffons, minotaurs, etc—both for added muscle and the fact that they wouldn’t react as badly (I hoped) to what we were proposing, given their societies had equal gender ratios. Still made for some awkward moments when I explained what they would be needed for, and a couple still walked out. I ended up hiring an adolescent dragon, two griffons, and hiring out a buffalo security team from a local firm to start, putting them on retainer for when they’d finally be needed. Now that that was done, next came the secretaries and administrative types—ponies and others to handle appointments, scheduling and complaints. We screened our initial candidates carefully, and I admit we looked for mares less on the basis of prior experience than those we thought would be more amenable to the idea of G4M—in other words, unherded mares, mares with ‘misborn’ foals, mares who had previously lost their herds. On the one hoof, that cut us off from a potential talent pool, on the other, we didn’t need anypony having a bad reaction and giving us away too soon. I think they knew something was up when we had them all sign nondisclosure agreements even before the interview took place, and indeed, we did have some horrified reactions to the news of what we were planning at first, just as I or Morning Glow initially had. But Platinum and I had planned for this—we explained ourselves quickly, showing them the salary and benefit sheets to prove that human men were going to be willing and very well-paid escorts and were not going to be impressed into service like the comfort stallions of old. And when they inevitably asked why I would have anything to do with such a thing, I told them about my own experience with a man and how I’d come around to the idea of G4M myself. We had to go through a dozen candidates to hire four mares—all of whom remain with us to this day, incidentally, though not necessarily in their original positions—though one did try to go to the police with news of what we were doing despite the non-disclosure agreement. Thankfully, she was laughed off and didn’t try again when we pointed out she was in breach of contract and thus financially liable. But finally, we had a front office, who I immediately put to work setting up our accounting and scheduling system. So we now had a business plan, a building being renovated, a security team and initial administrative staff. It took eight weeks from beginning to end, and yet that was the easy part. Still remaining to be hired was the two hardest employee classes of all: Trainers and the Gentlemen themselves. Left Alone Platinum had to return home to the Kingdom for a couple months to take care of some personal matters—“my husband misses me, and I miss him,” she told me apologetically, surprising me given I’d no idea she was not only married, but in a matched pair—but said she’d be back in two months when the renovations were complete, and until then, told me to oversee the continuing work on the building and start thinking hard about who we were going to bring in as Gentleman. She wanted to hire three trainers and five Gentleman to start, which I thought was a very tall order. I mean, the portal had only been open for civilian traffic and tourists for about eight months, and I’d barely seen five men in the city since I’d been there! That might be an exaggeration, but not by much, and either way, when the time came my work could be cut out for me. I asked Platinum if she had any advice for me regarding new Gentleman recruitment before she Ieft, and she said simply, “When you meet a good prospect, you’ll know. And when it comes to approaching them, just be yourself and do what you do best!” I caught the smile beneath her veil as well as the wink of her eye beneath the dark makeup she typically wore. The vote of confidence was appreciated, even if I had absolutely no idea what she meant by that. Just what did I do best, other than being one of just two ponies in all Equestria who had bedded a human? I had no immediate answer, but thankfully I didn’t need one as I spent the next three weeks overseeing the remainder of the building upgrades and looking for two new trainers. Why just two when we needed three? Because I’d made up my mind early on that I was going to be a trainer. I initially told myself that it was because I couldn’t ask anypony to do something I wasn’t willing to do myself, but that wasn’t the real reason. When I looked at myself honestly, it was because I wanted to. At long last I remembered a lesson it’d taken far too long to learn; that I was happiest when I was seeing to the needs of a guest and/or someone I liked for mutual fun and enjoyment, not when I was locked down into a herd and force to share a single stallion. Besides, I’d very much enjoyed showing stallions a good time in Las Pegasus and elsewhere, particularly down-on-their-luck ones. And just like then, as a recruiter and trainer I could pick and choose who I wanted to be with; decide who was deserving of recruitment, and then train them until they were ready to attend other mares. As far as I could tell, it would be win/win for me and the men I’d be training… But I still couldn’t do it alone. Platinum’s design called for each prospective Gentleman to have no less than three trainers—one unicorn, one pegasus, and one earth pony so they’d learn the sensual ins and outs of each race. I had the last one covered, of course, but where was I going to find a willing pegasus and unicorn mare for the job? The answer came in surprising fashion as I took our staff out for coffee one day after work. Tea and Trainers It was warm late summer day as we sat outside a coffee and tea shop, about a block away from the new building. We were in a waiting mode at that point, waiting for Platinum to return and the renovations to get finished before we could even begin to go searching for our first human recruits and start their training. In the meantime, we were just going to run a human-friendly bar and nightclub to give us some income and something to do, but with a likely minimum of a six-month wait before we truly opened for business, I asked our new administrative crew if they had any ideas or thoughts as to where we might find trainers. I was little surprised when they suddenly fell silent and looked back and forth, seemingly asking each other who wanted to go first. “About that…” our secretary, a unicorn mare named Vanilla Mocha, offered cautiously. “We’ve been talking it over, Five Stars, and well, we’ve decided…” they again fell silent as I was now wondering what was going on. Were they having second thoughts and now planning to quit en masse? A pegasus named First Flight finished for all of them; we’d hired her as a physical trainer to make sure our men were in shape. “We’ve decided that we’ll be the trainers!” They suddenly all smiled like they’d been playing a big joke on me, and indeed they got me good. “I mean, why not? It’ll be a while before we have any real work taking appointments or doing bookkeeping, so why shouldn’t we? We’re okay with all this, and we’ve all heard your stories…” “So why shouldn’t we join in on the fun?” Amber Ale, an earth pony who was our future barmare, rejoined. “You got us curious whether humans are really as good as you say, and we’ve all found stallions lacking, either in bed or just from our lives. So why shouldn’t we give a bunch of upright apes a try? And hay, if we’re gonna work for this company, crazy though it is… we may as well commit to it fully!” I was shocked to say the least. Speechless, even. “You shouldn’t feel you have to…” was all I could immediately offer, but they just shook their heads and grinned. “But we want to, Five Stars,” the final member of our new clique, a unicorn bookkeeper named Double Entry chuckled, throwing back her drink and leaving me wondering if the fact that she always ordered a double espresso was a pun on her name. “We all do. And besides, speaking for myself, I don’t like the idea of sending mares out to meet men when I haven’t tried them myself and confirmed that the stated net worth of their assets is valid!” Spoken like a true accountant! So what could I say except thank you? “Well, we do have some conditions…” Double Entry suddenly brought out a scroll. “Like some extra pay for extra duties…?” It wasn’t that hard a bargain to drive, given that we’d still be saving considerable money for not having to hire more ponies. So I gave them all a fifty percent raise on the spot, and reported the news back to Platinum via the Saddle Arabian consulate in the city. Now that I had trainers, we had to come up with our training curriculum. Platinum already had some general guidelines around that—Equestrian culture and etiquette lessons coupled with physical training not the least of it—but the particulars were left up to us, so I held several brainstorming sessions with my new friends in the completed back conference room. Despite some occasionally vociferous disagreements on the proper order of things, we ended up hashing it all out over the period of a week—seminars, classroom curriculum, even a gym training regimen. One of the biggest debates we had was whether we would bed new Gentlemen sooner rather than later. It sparked quite a difference of opinion, as First Flight and Amber Ale thought we should introduce them to the bedroom only after their physical training and schooling was complete, while Double Entry and Vanilla Mocha though we should test them immediately to get an idea of their strengths and weaknesses, and perhaps know right away if they were truly Gentleman material… Whatever that meant. In the end, we compromised; it would be a minimum of two weeks schooling before the first attempt at anything sexual, and each recruit would get a minimum of two weeks with each trainer before being passed on to the next. We came up with a three-month program, followed by a probationary period before a new recruit became a full-fledged Gentleman. We also set a rule that there would be no bedding of Gentleman before they entered our employ or outside our job duties… I look back on that now and laugh. Needless to say, that was a rule that didn’t last! Our curriculum and ground rules set, I sent a magically sealed series of scrolls to Platinum via the Saddle Arabian consulate for her to look over, and then we spent another week tackling the flying elephant in the room: Just how we would recruit Gentlemen? Well. The answer we not so much came up with as eventually discovered would surprise us all and end up throwing most of the rulebook we wrote out the window. To tell it, I have one final article to write: the tale of one of the first Gentlemen we ever hired; the trials and tribulations we—and he—had getting him to that point. We learned a lot from bringing in those first five Gentlemen, him most of all. For he was the very first Gentleman I recruited… and became my very first man since Shaun. Who is he? For now, I will simply identify him by his callsign, which he now permits me to give: The Attorney. As I close out this article, I would like to share one final letter with everyone before our final Q&A session. Since I’ve picked on her a bit more these last two articles, I think it’s only fair that I give a progress update on Harvest, who’s been recuperating for several weeks now. She wrote me recently, and this is what she had to say: Hey, Five Stars, Harvest here. Can hardly believe how time flies by. Seems like only yesterday you were visiting me in my hospital room. Good news, though; you won’t have to do that anymore. I’ve just been discharged, as my wound has healed to the point where the doctors say I can move about safely, so long as I don’t strain myself. I’d also like to thank you for your recommendation of a Gentleman who specializes in physical therapy. Ice, despite his callsign, is a very warm and caring man, and I doubt I’d have been discharged as soon as I was without his efforts. The doctors say that they’ve learned a few things from him, and will work to incorporate his techniques in future cases. I’m still not at one-hundred percent yet, and Goldie has made it clear to me that until I’ve completely recovered, I’m restricted to working the stall. Ice has been helpful in that regard, as he can help me move the stall and set everything up without aggravating my wound. He’s made it clear that he intends to stay with me until I no longer feel like I need him; I certainly can’t complain about being doted on by a stallion, even a human one! On another note, Ember’s returned to Las Pegasus to reunite with her herd, but she says she’ll make an effort to write and visit regularly. It’s refreshing to know that, despite all the wrongs I’ve imparted on the members of my old herd, all of you are willing to give me another chance. Oh! Speaking of which, Cayenne managed to send me a gift while I was in the hospital; a magically preserved box of some of his dishes. Let me tell you; it was absolutely heavenly after having to eat hospital food for days on end. I wonder if the hospitals do that on purpose; make their food as bland as possible to make you appreciate home cooking? Anyway, I’m rambling right now, and it’s almost time to set up the stall for another day. Take care, Five Stars, and I’ll see you around… maybe sooner than you think! Your friend, Harvest Moon It’s very gratifying to hear that, Harvest. Though he wasn’t one of my recruits or trainees, I do know Ice well, and I have no doubt he’ll take very good care of you. From what I hear, he asked for the callsign himself, saying it was in reference to a human film about their elite flying school. I can speak from direct experience that those hands of his are magic; he gives massages like you wouldn’t believe. Then again, why do I need to tell you that? You already know! I’m also rather envious you got to try Cayenne’s cooking again! He’s as much a sweetie as he ever was, and I’ve received word his new restaurant—or excuse me, ‘sports bar’—is already doing well; apparently he’s parlayed his own notoriety into a successful launch! And believe me, I know from G4M that’s the most critical part of any new business. Never get a second chance to make a first impression and all that. I guess it’s rather fitting that this series has reached no less than twenty-five articles, plus the Q&A sessions. It’s a nice number, and the culmination of an entire year of work. I’ll have much more to say at the end of the final article and Q&A, but I would like everyone to know now that this is not goodbye—I do intend to occasionally pen more articles as circumstances warrant or the mood strikes me. This article series has been about me, but G4M is not and never has been about me. It’s about mares and the men who serve them, to say nothing about everyone and everypony who make it happen, the many hundreds we now employ… and many thousands we have now served. In the end, it was Platinum’s invention brought it to life, and I’ve been honored to play my part in it. And I have been honored to have you, Five Stars, but humility does not become you—after all, Gentleman for Mares would never have come into being without you or the journey that brought you here! I just took your idea and ran with it, Platinum. You were the one with the vision and determination to see it through, and I was just your agent. What’s funny to me is, for all I’ve done with the company, it’s being a simple trainer of Gentleman which I’ve enjoyed most of all. Nothing funny about it, darling! For I doubt you’d’ve been as willing to help me originally if you weren’t enticed by the idea of it and getting all the human love you wanted in the bargain! And you knew it all along, didn’t you? Well, I’m glad. I enjoy my work immensely, and take great pride in it… and yes, I take great pride in the role I played in bringing G4M into being. Happy, Platinum? What’s important is that you are, Five Stars, as are the mares we serve! Couldn’t have said it better. Still one article to come, but as humans say, it’s been a blast, folks. I’ll have a longer-winded goodbye and long list of thank-yous next week, then again with the final Q&A session which we are still accepting questions for, but until then… back to work, doing what I love the most about my job; the same thing I found I loved so much when I first started doing it three years ago: Training new Gentlemen. > Part 26: The Attorney and The Earth Pony, 1/2 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – The Attorney and The Earth Pony By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post Magazines December 14 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: The middle of December, and all’s well. Holiday bonuses are going out, and money continues to flow in. As we finally reach the end of these articles along with the end of the year, I feel a little reflection is in order as we look back on everything that happened and all we’ve been through since January. When I was first approached by Platinum Corona in publishing these articles, I’m sure my initial reaction was much like that of many of Five Stars’ coworkers and future Gentlemen had when the subject was first broached: no way. Never mind how exploitive and repulsive it seemed to me at first; I feared it would be the end of our magazine if we ran articles defending such a thing. But Platinum was persistent, saying that they really wanted their story told, and she’d initially come to me because I’d shown a willingness to broach difficult subjects in our pages before and attempt to be evenhanded about it. In the end, she sent me letters encouraging me to do this from several Gentlemen and their clients, including the one that’s going to be described here. They all uniformly said that they weren’t being exploited but in the end had volunteered, that they were well-paid escorts doing work they loved, that they cared deeply for each other and the mares they served, and that for many of them, Equestria had allowed them to, quite simply, “be a man and be appreciated for it.” It was the last part that got me the most interested. I mean, as a journalist, the question had to be asked: why would a man willingly volunteer for something like this? Why would a mare willingly resort to this? What was it all about, and how did such an organization even come to be? As the proposed articles would consist of Five Stars telling G4M’s story by telling her own, explaining why the business worked in the context of her own less-than-happy experiences with Equestrian herd life, I began to get more interested and realized that just like G4M, there was a real need being answered here, and as such, there could be an actual market for these articles. Still, I had to get past the idea of including sexually explicit content in our pages. I’m no prude, and I knew we’d hardly be breaking new ground given the preponderance of adult stores and materials available in our city or the fact that our tabloid rivals have no qualms about pushing the boundaries of lurid content as far as they can… but that didn’t mean I wanted to stoop to their level. And yet, in an odd way, that’s what finally swayed me—I ultimately decided that the story of G4M did deserve to be told, and I’d much rather take the risk of having it told here than in the hands of those who would only seek to exploit it for shock value. By running it in our pages, I knew we’d be giving it far more credence and consideration than it would have been at some of our cross-city rivals. And the rest, as they say, is history. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have some severe moments of doubt over our decision to publish the articles given the many enemies we made and the hard times we faced. But the friends we made, and I daresay the good it has done, more than make up for it. No regrets, and no apologies, least of all to the hateful folks on both fringes who claimed they were acting in the name of morality or tolerance. Believe me, you weren’t, folks. And you can consider this final article a middle finger to all of you. You didn’t stop us. You didn’t shut us down. If anything, in the end you drew more attention to us and G4M, and now we both reap the rewards. So thanks for your unintended help, stick that up your collective craws, and go collectively buck yourselves. Wow. I guess more of Hot Topic rubbed off on me than I realized. Oh well! Before I sign off, I would like to thank all our loyal readers and everyone who offered both moral and monetary support for us over this past year. You really did make a difference, and we dedicate these final chapters to you. Oh yes, and for what is hard to believe is the final time… this article contains sexually explicit material describing an interspecies affair courtesy of the great mistress of men and founding member of G4M, Five Stars herself. If, after twenty-five chapters you’re still shocked and triggered by this, my sympathy level for you is zero. —Kalido Tenna, Chief Editor, New York Life Magazine Manehattan Post’s Owner’s Note: And I, for one, am very glad you did so, Kalido. There were no such qualms on this side as far as publishing the articles goes, given that I was already a Gentlemen for Mares client and as a rule couldn’t care less about what anyone thought of me. I’ve never been afraid to buck protocol or convention, so why would I do so now over something I already quite willingly avail myself of? My motivations were far more direct—I wanted more mares to experience what I had, and decided this was the way to get the word out… though I didn’t anticipate the intensity of reaction we’d garner. I’ll admit there were times I thought my magazine was going to have to shut down as me and my workers ended up under threat, but much like you, it was the equally strong support we received and the revulsion that attacks on Gentlemen generated that sustained us. In the end, I’m too stubborn of a mare to surrender, in particular with regards to a magazine I founded nearly thirty years ago and have devoted much of my life to. I also knew that to give into such tactics would have been to encourage more of them, and to that end, I would have kept this magazine running all alone if I had to, even if that meant writing each article, operating the printing presses, and hawking the issues on street corners myself. It didn’t come to that, thankfully. In the end, all the threats and anger only drew me and my staff closer together, just like it did our New York Life counterparts. In the end, we closed ranks and swore an unspoken oath that we would see these articles through no matter what, and if that meant going down with the ship, so be it. Maybe I’m too old-fashioned, or maybe I’m just too ornery for my own good sometimes, but some things are worth taking a stand for. Freedom of speech and press are two of them, and I fear both have taken a beating in recent years. It was an ordeal, but it all seems to have turned out well in the end. I keep my paper, get my Gentleman, and G4M itself is now doing roaring business, opening new branch offices everywhere. As we reach the end of these articles, I consider my mission accomplished, and to the victor goes the spoils—Chris and I have decided we will marry during the Summer Sun Celebration in the Crystal Empire by the Crystal Heart itself, and then honeymoon there. —Hot Topic, Manehattan Post Magazine And I can’t wait to be there, Hot Topic! Lady Rarity has already demanded the right to make the bridesmaid uniforms, and I was in for measurements not long ago. She promised to make me ‘stunning’ and the ‘envy of all’ along with my fellow trainers and handlers—second only to the bride herself, of course!—and given her reputation, to say nothing of all she’s done to dress our Gentlemen, I have little doubt she’ll keep her promise! In fairness, I wouldn’t say that we’re opening new branch offices ‘everywhere’, but we do have four now, with two more planned for next year. We’ve come a long way from the small operation we initially were two years and change ago, when we were struggling to get our hooves under us and just hire our first Gentleman. And for the final tale of my story, I would like to tell how I recruited my first Gentleman, an individual who’s still with us to this day. His story, I’ve found, is very typical of many Gentleman; a down-on-his-luck man fleeing a difficult situation at home and looking for a new start… one he eventually found in the most unlikely field! He has given me his permission to tell the story to follow, and he’ll have plenty to say in a letter at the end. What makes him so special? The fact that he was my first hire, certainly, but more in terms of how much he taught me about how to go about recruiting… and more to the point, how not to. In the course of recruiting him, I daresay I hit every mental hurdle, every argument against it, every visceral and negative reaction the initial thought of Gentlemen or sleeping with mares garnered… And I learned from him what it took to break through all of them and help a prospective Gentleman see that I wasn’t asking that he demean himself, but to help mares know a male’s love and company like so few rarely got to. He was a struggle, but in the end, I won him over, and he’s now nearing the end of his contract, a much richer, more confident and determined man ready to reclaim his former life… But that I’ll leave for him to tell at the end. As this is a grand finale of sorts, it requires a double-length article just like the story of me and Shaun did… for just like him, it can’t all fit in one regular article! The First Gentleman Before I begin, let’s set the stage one last time. To this point, we had our new headquarters building about three-quarters renovated, security guards on standby for when we opened our nightclub, and a group of five mares, including myself, who were willing to function as initial staff and Gentleman trainers. It’d taken a couple weeks of occasionally heated debate to hash out just how we were going to go about recruiting and training Gentlemen, and it was now time to put our plan to the test… And hope it didn’t blow up in our collective faces. Platinum had taken an airship back home to Saddle Arabia for a few weeks to spend some time with her stallion, but once she’d arrived I’d kept in touch with her via dragonfire scroll from the Saddle Arabian consulate, presenting the outlines of our plan. She’d returned it with some commentary and a few minor suggestions, but for the most part left it unchanged, telling us all to ‘have fun and enjoy the recruiting process!’ We all looked at each other oddly at that, given we’d set the rule that there would be no bedding of prospective recruits until and unless they entered training… In the end, not one of us followed it, and I’m sure Platinum damn well knew it. I still don’t know how, but she really seemed to have an instinctive knowledge of how things would happen and what form it would take… but was equally content to let us all discover it for ourselves. And discover it we did. As much as I’d like to say I was the first again, as it turned out, I ended up being dead last among the five of us to score a Gentleman. The first, for the record and perhaps fittingly, actually came from First Flight, as she found and bedded a human thrillseeker who had done it all on his side of the portal—skydiving, ‘bungee jumping’, and other dangerous activities I can’t even begin to comprehend—and now wanted to know what thrills this new world offered, considering the idea of sleeping with mares and later being a Gentleman a part of that. In reflection of his favorite thrill activity, he took the call sign ‘Freefall’ and would later specialize in mares in heat. He liked things wild, and even now I can’t say he’s fully settled down. Nevertheless, she scored him after a week and we got our first commitment—“I get to screw mares and get paid for it? Sign me up!” he said—and First Flight ended up being his handler as she rather sheepishly admitted that she’d won him by laying him. But she’d very much enjoyed it; she confirmed that despite his inexperience, he was far more fun than the few stallions she’d been with, if a bit clumsy and full of himself. We did have some problems with him at first, as it took him a while to understand the job was less about him than the mares he was serving, though in fairness, that’s less of an issue when you’re talking about mares in heat. Yeah, sorry about that, Five Stars. I admit I was a bit of an idiot back then, though it was more due to suddenly being allowed as much sex as I wanted (I thought) and not yet being mature enough to handle it. So after all that, let me just say here and now to all of you… thanks for sticking with me and putting up with all my idiocy. I know I was—and still am—a pain in the flank at times… —Freefall I won’t lie—that you are! But you’re also endearing and you’ve made a niche for yourself taking jobs that other Gentlemen won’t. I know you drive First Flight crazy at times, but she loves you… and yes, when it comes down to it, so do I. With the ink on our first hire’s improvised contract barely dry, I continued canvassing the city for my first real candidate, but so far I’d been coming up empty, seeing only a few human couples and some older men. The former were off-limits because we’d resolved we would NOT poach men from existing relationships, the latter because we wanted strapping young bucks, as it were. Yes, we were practicing age discrimination, but we didn’t yet know that there would be mares like Rising Star who would prefer older Gentlemen. Regardless, the pickings were slim, as there just weren’t many humans in Manehattan yet. I was actively considering heading for Neighagra to scope out the tourist crowd there when I saw a single human sitting all alone at our favorite coffee shop down the street. A Counselor Candidate I think what first drew me to him was his appearance. He presented a slightly odd picture, far more slovenly than most humans I’d seen, who were usually wearing business suits for job interviews; even the tourists tended to dress nicely. But not him. He was wearing a human ‘hoodie’ and a blue toboggan cap like it was winter with ‘PAPA’ stitched in red yarn on the side. He wasn’t having anything except water, and his eyes were fixed on a second human, this one a young girl, who appeared to be putting on some kind of performance in the nearby park for a few foals. I considered him for the better part of two minutes before finally deciding to approach him. He seemed physically fit, though it was hard to tell under those baggy clothes. He was also roughly the age we were looking for… but his attire and entire slouching manner struck me as belonging to someone who just didn’t care much about anything anymore. I tried to write him off as a candidate, but something inside me kept insisting I should go to him. So in the end I did, going to the counter and buying myself some zebrican tea before approaching him with it. “Pardon me… is this seat taken?” I pointed at the open chair beside him. His gaze turned on me and appraised me for a moment, taking in my appearance and even flickering to my cutie mark for a moment; I can only describe his eyes as being too old and tired for a face so young. “Not right now,” he said with a shrug, turning back to watch the human girl across the street. “Thanks,” I replied, quickly accepting the implied invitation and sitting down. “I’m Five Stars,” I introduced myself while offering my hoof in greeting, just trying to elicit some kind of reaction from him. He glanced at me again, but returned the gesture, curling his hand into a fist and bumping his knuckles to my hoof. “Nicholas Carpenter,” he told me (this is not his name, but is HIS suggestion for his alias!). “My daughter and I only arrived in the city yesterday,” he explained, nodding at the girl across the street. My heart sunk a bit at that—if he already had a mare and foals, then he was off-limits along with the rest. But, my long experience in the hospitality industry kicked in and I started to make some conversation with him, genuinely curious about this odd human who was looking and acting different than most others I’d seen to that point. “Oh. Well, welcome to Manehattan! Have to say, I don’t see too many human tourists here yet. Usually, they head for Neighagra or Canterlot, not here. Those who do come here tend to be looking for jobs…” I probed hopefully. “We came here from Neighagra. It’s quite pretty,” he granted, though there didn’t seem to be much warmth in his voice at the memory. “My daughter wanted to see the coast and visit your Stallion of Sovereignty, so… here we are.” He shrugged again, like it didn’t matter to him one way or another. “I see…” I replied, trying to get a read on him. He seemed very… subdued, was the only word I could immediately come up with. Was he tired, or was this just the way he was? “You know, drinking water is a waste in a place like this. Could I get you something stronger? Everything’s good here,” I suggested, suddenly wondering and worrying about how he’d take the idea of a female offering to treat him, given how insistent Shaun had been of the reverse. He glanced at me again, a sudden look in his eyes like he was trying to figure out why I was being so friendly to him, and then deciding once more that it didn’t matter. “Sure, if you’re buying.” “Why not?” I told him. “This place has excellent tea and coffee. Or even cider if you’re interested. What’s your pleasure?” “Coffee. Black,” he said simply. I gave him an odd look. “With nothing in it?” “No. I take it straight now,” he told me. “No milk, no cream, no sugar.” This human definitely had my interest now. “Sounds very bitter. Are you sure?” “That’s the way I like it now,” he confirmed. “Someone I knew taught me to take it that way. ‘Give it to me blacker than a moonless night, hotter and more bitter than hell itself… that is coffee’,” he added in an air like he was quoting someone. I blinked, but obeyed. “Okay…” I said, getting him his order and bringing it to him. I was having a very hard time reading him, but if nothing else, I could tell he wasn’t just putting on airs. I sensed a great sadness within him, even a hopelessness, like nothing he did mattered any longer. And for that reason alone, I needed to know more about him. He was nothing like Shaun, and perhaps that made it easier for me to pursue him, as there was no sense I was trying to replace him simply because their personalities were so distinct. “So what brings you to Equestria, Mister Carpenter?” I asked when he’d had his first sip, looking genuinely surprised at the flavor, but he had no chance to answer before his daughter came up, as bouncy and bubbly as any filly her age. “Hi, Daddy! So who’s your new pony friend?” she asked, turning her eyes on me with keen interest. His eyes lit up at her approach; the first time I’d seen some genuine elation in them. “Hi, sweetheart. This is Miss…?” he gave me the chance to introduce myself, and I took it. “Five Stars,” I offered the young human girl my hoof, which she shook in the human manner instead of bumping it. I still found it a bit perturbing when humans did that—ponies don’t generally like being grabbed, particularly by predatory creatures—but her youth and eagerness made up for it. “And you are?” Near as I could tell, she was a young teenager by human standards, but it was hard to say—I wasn’t that good at judging human ages yet. She told me her name then, and as I’m writing this, she suggests I give her the alias ‘Judy’. “Very pleased to meet you, Miss Five Stars! I absolutely love Equestria!” she told me and looked very much like she meant it. “I’m a budding magician back home, but you have real magic here! It’s so amazing, Daddy!” she said, giving him a hug and again I saw genuine warmth and affection in his eyes, even if just for a moment. I remember watching and wondering if she was the only thing that gained any sort of emotional reaction from him any more. “A magician?” I blinked in surprise. As far as I knew, humans didn’t have magic, so how could she be…? “That she is. Why don’t you show her what you can do, honey?” he suggested with a coy grin. This time, her eyes lit up. “Oh, I’d love to!” she said, and immediately launched into a very practiced routine of card and other tricks. It wasn’t real magic, but it was showponyship involving very clever sleight-of-hoof tricks which long human limbs and fingers made easy. In truth, I’ve only ever known one pony who was as good as her, and even she had some excellent illusion magic to help with her performances. “I’m impressed!” I said, and meant it. “You could make it as a street performer in Las Pegasus!” “You mean it?” she beamed. “Can we go there next, Daddy?” He chuckled and smiled. “If you want to, sweetheart,” he said easily, and she gave him another hug before heading back out into the park looking for another audience. “She’s quite talented,” I told him, looking after her. “She really is,” he agreed. “Runs in her family.” “Ah! So you’re a magician too?” I assumed, and immediately regretted it as he closed his eyes and shook his head slowly beneath his toboggan cap. “No magic here. I was an attorney.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, giving me a weary smile that looked equal parts sad and tired. I was genuinely surprised by that. “An attorney? Where?” I asked, thinking he looked like anything but the buttoned-up lawyers I’d had to deal with recently. He named the city he worked in. I recognized it as one of the larger human cities; one that did not seem to have an Equestrian equivalent. “So you’re not an attorney anymore?” I prompted, to which he shook his head again and went downcast. “No. And you’ll forgive me, but I don’t really want to talk about it,” he told me, taking a long draw of his coffee and staring down at it like he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. “Okay.” Long experience with patrons at various posts in Las Pegasus left me unconvinced that was true. My time as a barmare in particular had taught me that ponies who said that often did want to open up and have a friendly ear for them to vent a bit, and often just needed a little encouragement, alcoholic or otherwise, to do so. “So what brings you to Equestria, then?” He gave me another odd look, perhaps wondering why I was taking an interest in him, but in the end I think he just answered out of apathy. “I don’t know. An escape? A change of scene?” He mused as he took another languid sip of his coffee. “If Judy’s happy, that’s all I really care about now. Heaven knows she’s had a hard enough time after losing her real father.” Real father? “Then she is…?” “The daughter of a former client who disappeared,” he explained somewhat tersely, and for the first time I hear some genuine emotion in his voice. “Long story, but the short of it is… I felt responsible and adopted her. She wanted to see Equestria, and I didn’t have anything better to do, so… here we are.” He shrugged and gave his sad smile again while gesturing with a wave of his hand to the scenery before us. It clicked in my head that meant he wasn’t taken and was therefore fair game, but I didn’t care about that Just then. What I did care about was that I knew the look he’d just given me. I’d seen it on other ponies best described as beaten down by life and putting up a brave front, trying to see good and beauty in the world, both his and ours—but no longer able to. “So you’re out of work?” I probed gently. “You could say that,” was his only reply as he downed the remaining half of his coffee. “All I do nowadays is run a small talent agency for my daughter and play a few poker games.” Okay. Now my interest was definitely piqued, wanting to know what his story was and what had laid him so low as I was sensing. Reading between the lines, I realized then that whatever had happened to him, he really didn’t care about himself any longer, and I had to know why. It wasn’t even about recruiting a Gentleman at that point; it was the simple fact I hated seeing somepony so unhappy—especially a male. It was another byproduct of my Las Pegasus days, where I often gravitated towards down-on-their-luck stallions who weren’t enjoying themselves… and saw to it they then ended up having a very good time, even if that meant sleeping with them. “Then how did you afford the trip?” He actually chuckled at that. “Same way I support Judy. By playing cards,” he explained like it was no big deal. “I’m good enough at poker to keep us afloat. Being an ex-lawyer, guess I’ve got a talent for reading people if nothing else.” He seemed to finger something in his hoodie pocket as he spoke. I have to say, my opinion of him darkened a bit given the last card-playing stallions I’d known. I then kicked myself mentally for trying to associate him with them, reminding myself that whatever his story, he was no Aces Up or Double Down. How he doted on his adopted daughter was evidence of that, I thought! “You don’t say…” I told him once my brooding thoughts of the pair had been expunged. “You know, I was a casino dealer in Las Pegasus once. Dealt poker for a while. Didn’t play much, though. I wasn’t much good at it and I knew better than to wager my tips away.” He looked genuinely surprised at that, glancing down at my hooves; in hindsight he was trying to figure out how I could shuffle and deal with them. “Was it good work?” he asked, showing at least a modicum of curiosity for the first time. “It paid the bills,” I confirmed. “Had some decent side benefits, too…” I wistfully remembered Braeburn and my dentist friend. My reaction was not lost on him. “If you liked it, then why aren’t you still there?” he wanted to know. My eyes went distant, suddenly awash in bad memories of my own. “That’s something I’d rather not talk about,” I said very quietly, going downcast. He considered me, then smiled sadly in return, offering his coffee cup up for a toast. “To former lives?” “To new beginnings,” I rejoined, tapping my cup to his. An Attorney’s Offer That seemed to finally break the ice. Slowly, he opened up to me over the next hour or so as we sat at that table, and I eventually pried the answer out of him as to why he was no longer an attorney—he’d been disbarred for illegal courtroom conduct, and very unfairly if he could be believed. “Even now, I still don’t get it,” he told me, and I could hear the emotion in his voice. “I did everything right. I tried to do right by everyone, whether they were my clients or my friends. I defended those in need, even prosecutors who once opposed me,” he told me, anger and sorrow in his voice present in equal measure. “Didn’t even get paid for the most part; did a lot of my work pro bono. I was good, I was generous, I helped people and did everything I was supposed to. And my reward?” He gave a brief but bitter laugh, pain flashing through his eyes. “I lost everything. I got framed for falsifying evidence, and that was that.” He slammed his coffee cup down with a little more force than necessary, turning heads at other tables. He noticed the reaction and grimaced. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to unload on you like this…” he offered with some embarrassment in his voice, reaching over to pat my hoof. “Guess I just needed to.” “It’s fine, really,” I assured him, returning the gesture by patting his hand with my other hoof.  “Believe me, I know how unfair life can be at times.” “And how do you deal with it?” he asked me earnestly. “Not always well,” I admitted, shaking my head at my past bouts with drink and depression. “In the end, you need friends. Friends who can pick you up and help you move forward; let you know that there are still those who care for you even when you think you’ve fallen as low as you can possibly go. But whether they’re there or not, they can’t make you do it. In the end, you need to pick yourself up and move forward, because in the end… that’s the only direction there is to go.” He considered that, then nodded slowly. “I guess there’s some truth to that. I just wish I could still help people like I used to,” he told me as Judy returned again, preventing me from telling him that I might have such a way. She’d just about made a run of the entire park by then and had bought herself some roasted nuts from a cart vendor, their aroma quite strong and appetizing. “You look like you’re having a really good time, Judy,” I noted with approval. No matter how long it had been since my Las Pegasus days, I still enjoyed seeing others enjoy themselves, doubly so when I was helping them to. “I really am, Ms. Five Stars! I absolutely love Equestria! Oh, Daddy, I wish we could stay here more than a couple weeks!” she gave him another big hug, turning her best impression of big, dewy eyes on him. He returned her embrace, but his smile grew a little more wan. “Honey, you know we—” “Would you like to?” I spotted an immediate opportunity and spoke up, waiting until their attention was on me, then addressed him by name. “You see, Mister Carpenter, I’m starting a new business venture, and it occurs to me I don’t have a legal assistant yet. I could use somepony—er, somebody with your talents. We… uh, also have a need for human men.” As hard as I tried I couldn’t quite keep the uncertain note from my voice. “Really?” Her face lit up even as her adoptive father gave me an odd look; I have no doubt he recognized my change of tone. “A need for human men.” He repeated my statement verbatim, a sudden note of suspicion in his voice. “Indeed,” I nodded, putting on my best poker face, which admittedly wasn’t that good. Like I told him, I dealt cards, but I rarely played them, and this was why. “For our initial crew, we’re trying to hire five men. Would you like to be one? The pay and benefits are excellent.” “And it means we could stay? Oh, of course he would!” Judy tried to answer for him, but ‘Nick’, as I’ll call him, put a restraining hand on her arm. “Hold on, honey,” he said placatingly to his daughter before turning to me. “What’s the business?” he asked as he watched me closely, and I realized then that he sensed there was something I wasn’t telling him. However long it had been since he’d been an attorney, his ability to detect lies, even those of omission, clearly hadn’t diminished. At that point, I realized I’d best answer honestly. “I’m putting together a firm to promote human/Equestrian cultural exchanges, including a human-friendly bar and nightclub. The building we’re using is being renovated just down the street. It’ll still be a while before we open for business, but that doesn’t mean you can’t start helping us now,” I answered carefully. “A human-friendly nightclub? Wow, that sounds like fun!” Judy answered brightly. “I hope it will be! And you know, we’ll have a need for stage performers, too!” I told her to sweeten the offer further, thinking her magic act might be good to entertain guests. “Oh! Can I, Daddy? Can we?” she asked hopefully, but Nicholas looked far more wary now. He considered me for a moment, slipping a hand into his pocket and seemingly fingering something again. I didn’t know what he was doing, but there was a sudden suspicion in his eyes. “Honey? I need to make sure this offer’s on the level. Would you please leave us alone for a bit so I could discuss it with her privately?” he asked Judy politely. “Oh, sure, Daddy! Good to meet you, Miss Five Stars! Hope you can convince him to stay!” she said brightly, hugging him and then heading back out into the plaza. After she departed, his entire manner changed. His face hardened as his gaze turned steely; I had to suppress a sudden cringe at the look he was giving me, wondering if this was how he’d appeared before witnesses in court. I got my answer quickly as he crossed his arms and his eyes bored into mine. “Miss Five Stars, I don’t like being lied to. Even less when I think someone’s trying to take advantage of me and my daughter.” My blush gave me away, and I realized instantly that if I didn’t come clean quickly, he’d leave and not look back. “Very well, you got me,” I admitted. “I was hoping to bring you in for an interview before explaining, but… in simple terms, I’m looking to hire what we call ‘Gentlemen’.” “Gentlemen?” he echoed the word uncomprehendingly. I closed my eyes and took the plunge. “Male human escorts… for mares.” I didn’t say more, but I didn’t have to. He figured it out from my reluctance to elaborate and sudden nervous manner alone, putting together the pieces like he was unraveling a conspiracy in court. “You’re asking me… to sell myself… to mares?” he recited the damning facts slowly, staring at me in disbelief, his face slowly approaching outright revulsion. My deepened blush and involuntary cringe confirmed he was right. “I know how it must sound…” “Do you?” his lips had gone tight and there was anger in his eyes. “I think we’re done here, Miss Five Stars. I’ve been taken advantage of quite enough in the past by clients and ex-girlfriends alike. I never dreamed pastel ponies might try it too, but I guess bad people exist everywhere,” he decided in disgust, and then got up to leave. I realized then if I didn’t say something immediately, I’d lose him. “What I’m offering is an opportunity, Mister Carpenter. A way to make good money and support your daughter. A way to allow her to stay in Equestria and maybe even pursue her magician career!” I called after him quickly, my tongue loosened by the simple fact that the truth was out in the open now, and I didn’t have to beat around the bush any longer. I was relieved when he stopped short at that; if I’d learned nothing else about him in that brief time I’d known him, it was that he didn’t care about himself so much as her. “You like to help others? Well, this is a way to help Judy and many mares alike. A chance to help bring our two races closer together,” I told him fervently, finally being able to speak from the heart. “I swear I’m not trying to trick you, I was just… afraid of your initial reaction and didn’t want to say it out loud in front of your daughter. Believe me, I had my reservations too when this idea was first proposed to me. You can walk away at any time, Mister Carpenter, all I ask is that you please hear me out.” “Fine,” he said, sitting back down at an isolated park table away from his daughter and any other patrons, crossing his arms and staring at me in a manner that suggested he was in court again, preparing to tear my testimony to pieces. “State your case.” Though I couldn’t help but cringe at the look he was giving me, I started with our standard pitch, deciding if nothing else, he was a good foil. “Let’s start with where this idea came from. In Equestria, mares outnumber stallions nearly five to one. This means that many mares never get to experience a male’s love or attention, or can only share it in the confines of a herd. For this reason, there was once an industry called ‘comfort horses’ where stallions sold themselves to lonely mares, providing them a night of company.” “And that’s what you want me to be?” he asked in no small amount of contempt. “Sell myself for a few bits like a cheap dock whore?” I’d never heard that word, but it sounded close enough to another word I knew. Horse is a derogatory term to most ponies simply because it implies you’re no better than animals or beasts of burden… which, in the broadest sense, is what a comfort horse was, and why they were named that. Regardless, I didn’t get a chance to answer before he went on. “Tell me, if I didn’t look down-and-out and in need of money, would you have been interested in me?” he added, his expression all but a sneer. Here, I could answer honestly, at least. “I’d be lying if I said those weren’t factors, Mister Carpenter, but they’re not the main ones. What we look for are unattached and unemployed young men.” His sneer only deepened at that. “Why? Because you think we’re so desperate we won’t say no?” “Because we don’t poach people from existing relationships or jobs,” I replied with some exasperation, already getting sick of the cross-examination I was being subjected to. He leaned forward to pin me with a glare. “In case you didn’t notice, Ms. Five Stars, I have a daughter! Doesn’t that qualify as an ‘existing relationship’?” He pointed a finger in my face, which, let it be said here and now, ponies do not find to be a friendly gesture. Nevertheless, I did not flinch back from it, determined to fight and win this battle of wits on his terms. “Don’t twist my words, Counselor! She’s your daughter, not your lover!” I pointed a hoof right back at him. I figured I’d read enough legal dramas and dealt with enough lawyers over the years to give a good account of myself in a courtroom. “If I’d seen you with a woman I thought was your wife or ‘girlfriend’, I’d’ve left you alone! What, would you have preferred it if I approached married men and tried to poach them?” I challenged. “I’d prefer you not approach any men for such a sick scheme!” He crossed his arms. “I mean, the very idea is—” “Is what?” I dared him to finish his sentence as I leaned back and duplicated his gesture with my forelegs, making clear I was taking equal offense to his claims. “If other men take the offer, how does that hurt you? What business is it of yours what consenting adults do, whether humans or ponies?” He looked at me like I’d gone mad. “Because it isn’t consensual!” “What?” The vehemence of my reaction seemed to catch him off-guard, making him falter a bit, but he plowed ahead anyway. “Well… how can it be? You’re animals!” He pointed a finger at me again. “I mean, the very idea is…” “Animals?” I cut him off hard as my strained patience instantly turned to livid anger. It was the first time I’d heard that argument—Shaun never used it, though I’d read that some humans looked upon us that way. Was he seriously saying we were no better than beasts to him? Or was he just so desperate to pick holes in my logic that he resorted to something so ridiculous and wrong? “And your evidence for that is… what? That we walk on all fours and don’t usually dress?” I guessed from other articles I’d read, letting some contempt drip into my voice. “That’s absurd and insulting on its face, Counselor!” I pointed a hoof right back in his face to let him know how it felt. His expression dropped as he realized my offense was real, so I pressed my advantage. “You want evidence of the contrary? Just look all around you. Tell me, Mister Carpenter—is this the work of animals?” I motioned to the midtown area around us and all the hustle and bustle that came with it. “Can you truly compare a race that’s raised cities, carved civilizations from wilderness, can control the weather, fought wars and wielded magic to mere animals just because they have a superficial resemblance to your earth horses? And why, by your own logic, then, would we not consider you animals and therefore beneath us? After all, you somewhat resemble the apes of our world, who aren’t intelligent, so why shouldn’t we apply the same rationale to you?” I slammed my hooves down on the table as I spoke, causing heads to turn elsewhere. I don’t know how often he’d had an argument so thoroughly dismantled in the courtroom, but after I was through with him here he looked like he’d been kicked in the gut. “Objection withdrawn,” he barely whispered, rubbing his capped head. “I’m sorry, this is just really hard for me to get past.” I felt some of my anger ebb at that. “Because in your world, you’re the only intelligent species, therefore the idea of having sex with a different one would mean having sex with animals.” I think it was only just then I made that connection. “But that’s not the case here, Mister Carpenter. We ponies are every bit the sapient beings you are. So why shouldn’t sex be allowed between us? If both parties want it, what does it matter if they’re of different races? Or even different worlds?” I posed the questions to him, considering and then deciding against mentioning all the interspecies action I’d seen in places like Las Pegasus or that I myself had been with a griffon once. To his credit, he did seem to recognize the logic of my statement. “There’s still a huge leap between accepting that conceptually and asking me to sell myself to them!” He clutched his head in his hands. “Even if I concede your points, that doesn’t change the fact you’re trying to make me a prostitute!” I knew that word, and its connotations were scarcely less ugly to me.“I’m trying to get you to see there are mares you can help and a need here you can fill!” I countered, though I think I was starting to get a better idea of where his reluctance was coming from. “I get that there’s a strong stigma in your culture against comfort horses, and there it makes sense—there shouldn’t be any need for such things when you’re talking about societies and cultures with even gender ratios, like your own,” I reasoned. “But to use your own argument, Mister Carpenter—this is a different culture, with different rules. The stigma you speak of doesn’t exist here. Comfort horses are frowned upon, yes, but not because of simply selling sex. It’s frowned upon because in ancient times the industry was used to oppress males, impressing them into such service against their will!” He looked up sharply at that; I had the distinct impression he wanted to make a courtroom-style objection. “I’m sorry. And that’s not what you’re trying to do to me?” I stared at him for a moment before replying, attitude for attitude. “I’m sorry. Am I blackmailing you or coercing you somehow, Mister Carpenter?” I challenged. “I am neither keeping you nor forcing you to do anything. You are free to get up and leave not just this table but all of Equestria at any time.” “Except for the fact you’re trying to pressure me to stay and do this by dangling money for my daughter in front of my nose,” he grumbled. I felt my anger starting to rise again as I sensed him trying to ascribe to me motives I did not have. I don’t know if that was a function of his defense attorney past, when that was presumably more or less his job, but I definitely didn’t appreciate it. “I am offering you well-paying work providing a service to Equestrian mares. No more and no less. And if it’s being exploited you’re worried about, Equestrian law provides very broad protections for stallions, especially in terms of health benefits and working conditions. And before you ask, the law applies to males, not just stallions. So even as a human, you’re covered.” I knew because I’d already checked. “At most, as things stand, you’d be seeing just one or two clients a week.” He didn’t immediately respond to that, perhaps because he knew he couldn’t refute what he was unfamiliar with. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder why I was engaging in this back-and-forth with him when it was pretty clear to me he wasn’t going to accede. I later decided that, on some level, I was enjoying getting to match wits with an actual (or at least former) defense attorney, but on another, he was also cycling through all the arguments I’d have to meet and counter during the recruiting process… Arguments that even I had sometimes made to myself. In an odd way, by justifying G4M to him, I was also justifying it to myself, which in the end I still wasn’t fully sold on, either. But again, such things were only obvious in hindsight, and I had little time to dwell on it before he moved on. “It’s all well and good to say you’re just ‘offering a service’ and what happens between consenting adults is their business. But that assumes facts not in evidence!” he pulled out an actual courtroom argument next. I wasn’t sure where he was going with this. “Such as?” He hesitated, perhaps realizing how his next words would sound, but offered them anyway. “Such as, mares can’t consent to being with a man…” “What?” Initially, I thought he was bringing back the same point he'd made before, but then realized he'd narrowed its focus from ponies and humans to mares and men. “I mean… not because you’re animals,” he clarified quickly, remembering our earlier exchange, “but because you’re smaller and physically weaker than us! So any relationship between us by definition isn’t among equals and would be exploitive!” he finished with visible uncertainty; I think he sensed the obvious counter-arguments even before I made them. And indeed this one was easy, refutable on two levels. “Oh, come on, Mister Carpenter. Human females are smaller and weaker then human males too! So by that logic, how can they consent?” That caught him short, and I saw him fumbling for his next response. “Well… they’re still human! I mean, they could say no and back it up by running away or using a weapon! But you? You don’t have hands, you can’t wield tools, you’re smaller than me and you’re female…” he trailed off as he saw the incredulous look I was giving him. I stared at him for several seconds before replying. “So, due to the fact that I’m a smaller female who weighs less than you, who can’t grasp or walk upright like you… I’m weak and helpless and couldn’t say no?” I recited slowly, letting some outright contempt seep into my voice. Sometimes there was a time for words, but other times, more direct action was called for. So I leaned forward and propped my foreleg on the table, my elbow against its surface. “Let’s test that theory, shall we, Counselor?” I offered him a hoof-wrestling match. “Try to overpower me.” He got the idea easily enough, though he seemed to find it amusing at first. “If you say so…” he grasped my hoof with his hand, then called start. I let him struggle to even budge me for a few seconds before I applied a fraction of my real strength, though I still ended up slamming his hand down with a little more force than necessary, leaving him stunned at how easily I bested him. “Still think we’re weak and couldn’t defend ourselves, Mister Carpenter?” I couldn’t quite keep the smug grin off my face as I overcame his latest argument. “And that’s just a hoof. I’m an earth pony. That means I’m very strong and have great stamina. It means I can lift many times my own weight, I can run forty miles in an hour, that I’m magically resistant, and very hard to injure or kill as well. Yes, we work the land, but my race was built for manual labor and fighting. Historically, we’ve been the backbone of Equestrian society, serving not just as farmers but as soldiers. “And this is to say nothing of the other pony races,” I headed off his next argument before he could even speak it. “Unicorns have magic. Never mind their more dangerous spells; they could simply lift you up high in the air and then drop you. And pegasi? They could not only pick you up and drop you, but they could just fry you with a lightning bolt from a nearby cloud,” I recited. “So I’m sorry to say, Mister Carpenter... that it’s in fact humans who are the weaker ones here. And thus you’re asking the wrong question. It should be: why wouldn’t we force you?” “Okay. And why wouldn’t you?” he rubbed his hands, looking surprised and even more wary—he tells me now as he's reading over my shoulder that he suddenly understood at that moment that ponies weren't just cute and cuddly, and it genuinely perturbed him. “Because in Equestrian society, it is anathema to harm males simply because we have so few. Protection of stallions is paramount to us for simple preservation of the species.” He looked up sharply like he’d just spotted an obvious contradiction in my statement, and in fairness, on the face of it he was correct. “Most of the police and soldiers I’ve seen in Equestria are stallions! If that’s true, why do you put them in dangerous occupations like that?” But I had an answer for that as well. “Because males make excellent peacekeepers by virtue of the fact that they are males and ponies don’t want to hurt them. Thus, their presence makes trouble less likely, not more,” I quickly countered. “You know the easiest way stallions have to halt a fight between mares? Simply step between them, and they’ll stop immediately,” I told him, remembering Cruise Control doing just that when I got into a fight with my sister a few Hearth’s Warmings back. My thoughts went to him for just a moment, and I wondered where he was and what he’d think of what I was now doing. “Because no matter how angry they are, mares don’t ever want to endanger stallions.” “But I’m not a stallion!” he protested. “You are to me!” I replied fervently. “I and most other Equestrian mares see you as a male first, human second, and that means our protective instincts apply. That means, in turn, I would never wish to hurt you…” I leaned in close before I said my next words, allowing my eyes to go hooded and a sly smile to break my lips, sensing I was starting to get through to him. “And that means I can also appraise you as a prospective partner.” He flinched at that. “And… what makes you think me or any human guy would be willing to sleep with a pony?” In response, I took on my smug look again. “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask the last one I slept with, Counselor?” He looked at me in great surprise. “You mean you’ve already…?” he trailed off as he saw me unable to restrain an eyeroll. “Of course I have! Do you really think I would be promoting this if I hadn’t?” I said with a note of exasperation, wondering why he kept fingering something in his hoodie pocket. “Yes, I’ve already slept with a human man. His name was Shaun, and he was one of the first humans who came through the portal a year and half ago. I ended up spending the better part of a week with him. He was the best lover I’ve ever had…” I let my face go wistful, closing my eyes at the memory. “I wasn’t the only one either; I now know of at least two other mares who have been with men, and both told me they enjoyed it greatly. And that is why we think this will work!” I raised my eyes back to his. “But why would mares pay for humans when they could have their own kind?” he asked in far more earnestness than he’d been using before. “Because a lot of the time... they can’t. Because in simple terms… stallions are few, and few stallions are able to divide their attention equally between numerous mares. So, far too many mares go wanting, even ones in marriages. I speak from direct experience there,” I told him, going downcast for a moment as I remembered all my failed herds. “But men are many, and as no less than three mares I know have now confirmed, make excellent lovers. So why do I think Gentleman for Mares will work? Because, put simply, Mister Carpenter—” I pointed to him, and then myself “—Supply, meet demand.” He visibly deflated at that. He seemed to be have run out of arguments to make, his eyes flitting every which way as he searched for—but failed to find—another way to poke a hole in my logic. Though unable to do so, it remained clear he was still strongly resisting the idea, so I came up with another tack. “Okay, if you’re not ready to be a Gentleman, let’s try this…” I pulled out my business card and Shaun’s pen from my saddlebags, clicking it open and holding it in my mouth. “I still need a legal assistant to help settle our licenses with the city and draw up our first Gentlemen contracts. Never mind being a Gentleman; I’ll hire you as a legal assistant, and pay well for the service. You can use your legal skills again, and you can even name your own rate. It’ll keep your daughter here a couple weeks, at least?” I pointed out, scribbling a quick note on the back of the card. “And afterwards, you can collect your fee, and then either walk away or stay, whether it’s as a full Gentleman or simply remaining on as a legal consultant. What you do is entirely up to you, Mister Carpenter.” Despite having all his concerns answered, his suspicions hadn’t diminished much. “And what’s the catch…?” “No catch,” I assured him. “It’s just my hope that as you interact with me and the other mares of our new business, and maybe even talk to the other men we’re hiring, that you’ll see we’re not evil or exploitive and that providing companionship to mares is a worthy cause.” “And maybe wear me down and convince me over time to become a… ‘Gentleman’?” he asked a bit bitterly. “Maybe,” I admitted with a shrug. “But, either way… the choice is all yours.” Though he was no longer openly hostile, his manner was still quite wary as he fingered the card, glancing between it, me, and his daughter still giving performances in the park. “I’ll have to think about this…” he told me. “I understand,” I answered him with a nod. “It’s a lot to take in, I know. For the record, it took me months to figure out if I wanted to do this after it was first proposed. But if you decide to accept, just come to our new headquarters and present yourself. Trust me, we’ll have plenty of work for you to do…” I grimaced as I remembered the sheath of documents waiting back in my office. “Understood. But before we part… may I ask you one final question?” he said almost politely. “You may.” He stared at me for a few seconds before asking: “Just… why me?” he watched my reaction carefully. Knowing he was looking for any hint of deceit, I made a show of looking him over, and answered honestly. “Because as I said earlier, you fit the profile we’re looking for, Mister Carpenter. Because you’re the right age, because you look physically fit, because you’re unattached, because I’m pretty sure you’ll look good in a suit, and well… this is more myself than anything else, but because you looked down on your luck.” He frowned at that. “And thus thought I was an easy mark?” I waited a beat before answering. “And thus thought you could use a hoof up.” He stared at me a moment more, then thanked me for the coffee and left. An Offer Accepted At the time, I give him a 50% chance of showing up, knowing that if he didn’t appear at our offices in the next day or two, he wouldn’t. As it turned out, he appeared at our door the very next morning, all but dragged in by his adopted daughter, whose eyes lit up upon seeing me again. “Hi there, Ms. Five Stars! Daddy says you offered him legal work! Of course he’ll take it if it means we can stay here!” she told me eagerly. “Seems like my mind has been made up for me,” he admitted somewhat wanly, rubbing his hand behind his capped head and giving a grin I can only describe as goofy. I couldn’t help but chuckle at that even as I knew he probably hadn’t told Judy everything. In truth, I wasn’t sure how to break it to her myself and decided the best option was not to. “I see. Well then, welcome to our humble and still-unfinished headquarters, Mister Carpenter.” I got up and offered him my hoof again, then proceeded to show him around and introduce him and his daughter to the rest of our staff. I’d told them about him, and warned them not to press him or say anything about Gentlemen to his daughter, but that didn’t stop them from taking an immediate interest in him. I think he found their attention quite disconcerting at first, though he much later told me that after we’d spoken he’d been stunned to discover he started thinking of mares sexually himself—that he couldn’t ‘stop noticing them’ now and it was driving him ‘a bit batty’; that seeing mares interested in him in return was only making it worse. That knowledge came later, however. The rest of the staff also took more than a little interest in his daughter—she was a bit of a novelty given we’d seen few human children before and she was undeniably endearing—who put on another performance for them, even surprising a unicorn like Double Entry with what she could do without magic. They took her out for lunch while Nick stayed initially behind with me, saying he wanted to speak with me privately before following. “Let me make something quite clear, Miss Five Stars,” he told me sternly in private after Judy was gone and my office door was closed. “I’m still far from sold on this. I’m not doing this for you, and I’m not doing it for the money. I’m only doing it for Judy, so she can stay in Equestria longer. So I’ll thank you and the other mares not to reveal the true purpose of this company to her.” “Deal,” I told him, keeping to myself the thought that as smart as she clearly was, Judy might well figure it out on her own. “Welcome to G4M, Mister Carpenter. And I’m afraid I have a lot of what you call red tape to help me untangle…” Legal Aide After a slightly awkward lunch where Nick looked more than a little uncomfortable at times, not offering up much information about himself—again, I’d advised my fellow mares that he’d had an unhappy past, but that didn’t stop them from probing him a bit—we returned to our new building to get started. I began by showing him a sheath of documents and law books, inviting him to write up his own contract for the work. Once he had done so—and his rate was surprisingly cheap, I thought—I asked him to first familiarize himself with the various Equestrian and city laws regarding clubs and escort services, and then gave him Platinum’s outlines of how Gentleman would be paid and compensated. By the end of the day he was already buried. He seemed honestly surprised by how involved the work would be; I suspect he initially thought it was just a pretense to get him inside and there wouldn’t actually be much for him to do other than try to be convinced to be a Gentleman. But all the work I had for him kept him quite busy for the next month, as it turned out, as it took that long to get all our licenses and various legal issues settled. In that time, two more prospective Gentleman were discovered and hired, one by Vanilla Mocha and the other by Double Entry. The one the former hired will be familiar—a struggling writer and budding journalist who was touring Equestria ‘on a shoestring’ budget, hoping to market the journal entries he wrote about his experiences as magazine entries afterwards. He would take the call sign ‘Scoop’ and later both specialize in and prefer older mares. The other was an out-of-work banker found by our company accountant who’d been laid off and recently divorced. He came to Manehattan looking for a new start and hoping to land a banking position in Equestria, wanting to be as far from the pain of his failed marriage as possible. In the end, he ended up finding a new profession entirely and was delighted to find a female that appreciated him, doubly so to discover that many did. He took the call sign “Broker,” and is a favorite of professional mares like Double Entry, who became his handler and marefriend. He was the one that I think really drew Nick out of his shell, as they shared some surprising things in common—both were coming off lost jobs and broken relationships; both had children to support. Our then-fourth prospective member kept mostly to himself at first, perhaps trying to insulate himself from the insanity he still felt was all around him, but he did his job well enough, even dealing quite effectively with a couple city attorneys who were trying to deny us our liquor licence, trapping them with their own logic and laws. He’d also written up the Gentleman contracts to be very generous in terms of pay and benefits, as well as offer prospective Gentlemen an out in the form of a six-month trial period during which they could quit at any time. Platinum approved that on the sole condition that pay would only be partial during that period, but would go full when a two-year contract was signed. As the weeks passed, he slowly started to get more comfortable, though the genuine happiness his daughter expressed at getting to stay longer was certainly helping on that score. She’d become a favorite of the construction crew and security guards, and our dragon bouncer doted on her, even taking her for a flight on his back a few times, to the great consternation of Nicholas. As he spoke with the other men and gradually got to know me and the other mares, he seemed to open up a bit more, realizing we weren’t the monsters he initially thought us to be and his fellow humans hadn’t been coerced into accepting the job. I wasn’t privy to the discussions he had with them, but I do remember an evening when they all went out together for drinks and he came back looking a lot more thoughtful, giving me what I swore was an appraising look the next morning. Still, as renovations neared completion and the work I’d hired him for ran out, it was time for him to decide what to do. Judy certainly knew—she wanted to stay with all her new friends in a place she loved!—but he was far less certain. I didn’t press him, and warned the others again not to do so. For him far more than the others, whatever decision he made, it had to be his own… One Away About five weeks after my first meeting with Nick and Judy, we were barely a month from opening the nightclub and were already starting to informally train the new Gentleman… both outside the bedroom and in. Our promise to not bed them right away had gone out the window and then some by then, but it was keeping them and our new staff happy while we waited for Platinum’s return with the end of renovations and the ribbon-cutting ceremony she wanted to perform. We had even picked up a fourth Gentleman by then, a very tall and well-built former collegiate ‘basketball’ player who’d blown his knees out and had come to Equestria looking for a magical solution to fix them so he could play again. He initially took the call sign “Rebound” but later switched it to reflect the mascot of the school he once played for: “Cavalier.” He was Amber Ale’s first catch, and she adored him; the other mares and previously hired Gentlemen took a great liking to him too. So, at that point… four of the five Gentlemen we initially sought were hired and had signed their two-and-a half year contracts that Nick had drawn up. At that point, all the other mares had found a Gentleman and a lover… except me. I’d told the other girls to keep looking, but I’m pretty sure they hadn’t, still holding their breath waiting for me to bag Nicholas. They wanted him, and so did I, but I’d kept my distance from him, afraid of spooking him. He seemed to get along well enough with everyone now, and made a habit of cleaning up at the weekly poker games we played, but he could not seem to get past the idea of what we were doing, enough that I was certain he was going to take Judy and leave. And indeed, he’d promised her that they would use the money he’d made to take her to see more of Equestria first, but in the end, no matter how much she wanted to stay permanently or how much the other men tried to encourage him to become a Gentlemen like them, he was adamant that they go home and I was willing to let him go… Until, that was, I got a surprising plea from an equally surprising source. A Daughter’s Plea There was a knock at my door one afternoon after we’d done our daily classroom and physical training for our new Gentlemen. Double Entry and I did the former to start, Amber Ale and First Flight the latter. I’d barely had time to look up before the door opened up and in peeked… “Judy!” I recognized and called to her, inviting her inside. “What can I do for you?” I asked, frowning at the uncertain expression she was wearing. She seemed unusually subdued, in fact. “Hi, Miss Five Stars. Um… can I talk to you privately for a bit?” “Sure,” I motioned her to the seat in front of my desk, wondering what was up. “Can I offer you some tea or hot chocolate or…” She waved me off and sat down, wringing her hands in her lap. “I’d like to talk to you… about Daddy,” she said somewhat hesitantly. “He says we’re leaving in a couple days. But I don’t want to go back to Earth! I want to stay here!” she told me. My expression softened at that. “I don’t want to see you two go back either, but I can’t force him to stay, honey,” I told her gently, having picked up his nickname for her over the past few weeks they had been with us. “I know, but…” she seemed to be gathering herself to make a request of me, finally closing her eyes and spitting it out. “Couldn’t you just… well... make him your boyfriend and a… ‘Gentleman’ like the rest?” She turned her eyes on me as she spoke. I don’t know if my jaw has ever fallen so far open before or since. Those were about the last words I ever thought I’d hear come out of her mouth! “How did you…” I barely croaked. We’d been very careful around her, taking great pains to not give away what we were doing; as far as she knew we were opening a mixed human/pony nightclub and that required some human ‘eye candy’ for what we expected to be our mostly mare clientele. “I figured it out quick, Miss Five Stars. Like, within three days?” she told me with a wry but shy grin. “I may be young, but I’m not stupid. I’m thirteen; I know what sex is! I knew something was up from the way Daddy was acting and how he was reacting to you and the other mares. I know when he’s trying to hide stuff from me, so… I snuck in here one afternoon while you were out and, well… picked the lock on your filing cabinet and saw your business plan,” she admitted, embarrassed. “That’s when I knew.” I was stunned at that. “How did you pick a magical seal?” “With this,” she held up what she called a ‘skeleton key’. “It’s one of my regular lock picks, but I had it enchanted by that ‘Great and Powerful’ pony magician who’s been hanging out in the park giving shows and teaching me some tricks of her own. She said it would get me past most simple spells. She wanted to know what you were doing here, too. And after I told her, I think she really wants to take advantage of it…” I made one mental note to put more powerful seals on my private papers, and another to consider that more-than-slightly obnoxious street magician as one of our first clients. “And you’re… okay with this?” Her expression went a bit uncertain. “Well, I admit I was a bit shocked at first but… yeah, I think so. I mean, I see how happy the other mares are with the guys, and they don’t seem to mind this one bit. So… well, why haven’t you done the same with Daddy?” She asked me in perfect earnestness. “Judy!” I was shocked that she’d so casually ask that. “I want to stay in Equestria, Miss Five Stars. In the worst possible way. There’s nothing for me back home…” She went on to tell her story of what happened with her real and adoptive fathers and I was shocked enough that I had to get up and give her a huge hug. I had no idea how she stayed so happy and upbeat in the face of all that, but I did know one thing at that point—she lived for her new ‘Daddy’ just as much as he did for her, and I couldn’t but love them both for it. “I want him to be happy, Miss Five Stars. He hides it well, but he’s so sad inside. He lives to help people and except for me… he really can’t now.” Tears welled in her eyes as she spoke. “But if he hooks up with you? Then maybe he’ll see it’s okay to enjoy life again. And if he becomes a Gentlemen… then maybe he’ll have clients again. Maybe he can help others again! And maybe then he’ll be happy!” she looked up at me hopefully, sniffling as she spoke. To say I was taken aback would be an enormous understatement. Was she actually… asking me to bed him? “Judy, I know he’s hurting…” I said carefully. “He already told me a little about his past. But I can’t force him into this. I can’t make him open up if he’s not ready to. And I’m not sure I can help him if he doesn’t want to be helped…” “I want him to be helped!” she said vehemently, grasping my hoof and clutching it. “Please, Miss Five Stars. I’m not naive. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I don’t know if it’s the other guys talking with him, but he is interested in you; he just can’t get past the idea of it… or maybe he just thinks he’s not allowed to enjoy himself. But you can show him that he can!” So, what in the name of Celestia and Luna was I supposed to say to that? My heart said one thing, my head another… and my suddenly aroused marehood didn’t care either way. Certainly, I’d been interested in Nicholas as well, simply because he was so different than the other humans I’d met; so different from Shaun and other Gentleman. At first he’d struck me as merely interesting and a bit of an oddity, but over time I’d been attracted to his obvious intelligence and the fact that he was an unhappy male I might be able to help, much as I did for more than a few stallions in Las Pegasus. But in the end, no matter how tempted I was, I’d made no move towards him, simply because I didn’t want to spook him… or perhaps part of me was still clinging to memories of Shaun, who I hadn’t seen in nearly two years now and was slowly but surely losing touch with. “Please, Miss Five Stars,” she said again when I didn’t reply immediately, squeezing my hoof. “He needs this. He needs to be happy. He needs to see he’s allowed to enjoy life and see to his own needs, not just mine! And if that means he becomes a ‘Gentleman’ who helps other mares by bedding them… then I’m fine with it. As long as I can stay in Equestria and I can see him smile again, that’s all I care about!” she said very fervently. I chose my next words very carefully. “I understand, Judy, but… I’m not sure you realize what you’re asking me to do. You want him to heal; I get that. So do I, but what you’re suggesting might end up hurting him if he’s not ready for it!” Memories of Juniper and Sweet Tea were suddenly prominent in my mind. To my frustration, she only shook her head. “It’s been five years, Miss Five Stars, since he lost his law license and adopted me. He’s been like this for long enough. He’s never going to be anything more than what he is now unless he moves past it, and every day he doesn’t is just another day of pain for me. Please try to help him, and I swear to you that whatever happens, I won’t hold it against you…” Continued on page 27 > Part 27: The Attorney and The Earth Pony, 2/2 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Continued from page 26 I didn’t sleep that night, or the next one. I had but days to act before Nicholas collected his pay and departed, but I simply didn’t know what to do. I considered and discarded a dozen different ideas, everything from a romantic night in Neighagra to simply seducing him in my office, giving him a choice between me and an open door. But nothing felt right and nothing seemed like it could work; no matter what I came up with, I kept hitting this roadblock where it felt like I was using a mental or emotional bludgeon on him. He didn’t take kindly to people trying to manipulate him, as I gathered had happened to him repeatedly in the past, and most of what I came up with felt like exactly that—like I was trapping him somehow. There was no question in my mind that even if the direct approach had worked with the other four men, it would not with him. He needed an entirely different angle, but I had no idea what that was. Nick was just too far outside my expertise at that point to say. Cruise Control came closest, as he had plenty of grief and somepony he cared about deeply, just like Nicholas. He had needed a great deal of time, patience and careful nurturing before he was finally ready to shed his grief and open his heart to me, and even then it took a slew of dates and rutting sessions to really pull him out of his shell. But Cruise didn’t have the extra baggage of finding and then losing his life’s calling—in the end, he was as much a pony as me; I wasn’t asking him to have sex with a female of a different world and species (never mind as a profession!) Even aside from that, Nicholas was far more mature than him and wouldn’t take kindly to being babied, so the motherly approach I’d used with Cruise was out. He’d see seduction as manipulation, so that was off the table as well. Nor was I about to tell him about Judy’s desire for him to become my coltfriend and a Gentleman because ultimately, he had to decide to be with me and/or be a Gentleman for himself, not for her, else he’d never be happy in his work. That was a bit of an irony with him, now that I think about it—Gentlemen should always put the needs of their clients first, and given his desire and outright need to help others, that should have made him the ideal candidate. But a Gentleman also ultimately needs to have no reluctance about rutting in order to derive their job satisfaction from that of their clients, and as things stood, he would not. So I was back to square one, as I’ve heard humans say, trying to figure out how to repair his damaged psyche with alien parts. I asked the other mares and new Gentleman for advice, getting some that was half-decent and others that were outright fantasy. But no matter what I was told, I kept circling around to the same conclusion: that he needed time and had to come to me on his own; that trying to force things before he was ready would make them worse, not better. But it was time we did not have, unfortunately. He was scheduled to depart in just three days when I sent an urgent message to Platinum explaining the situation, telling her that we all wanted Nick as our fifth and final Gentleman, but he seemed a lost cause for all he had been through. I told her that I thought seducing him would do more harm than good, and wasn’t sure I was up to the task anyway, even if he had shown some signs of interest in me. He needed time, but I had run out of ways to keep him in Equestria; he’d already made train reservations for the portal, much to Judy’s dismay. She all but begged me again to rut him, even offering to tell her ‘Daddy’ how she felt, but I told her very firmly no—that even if she understood what sex was, she didn’t understand all that went into it emotionally and how it could hurt just as easily as it could heal. She left my office crying, making me feel even worse. At that point, I very much wanted him—not just for G4M but for myself—but at the same time I was preparing to let him go, even at the cost of breaking poor Judy’s heart. I didn’t get an immediate message back from Platinum, which surprised me given how good she normally was about responding with advice or instructions. But what did surprise me was the sound of a commotion outside my office the very next morning followed by a knock at my door. “Come in,” I called out, not knowing immediately who it was—I didn’t have any appointments or interviews scheduled, nor was there anything for me to do at that point except try to work out some advertising materials. But how did one try to tell others that we were offering the equivalent of human comfort horses without saying directly that’s what we were doing...? The question was shunted aside instantly when in stepped… “Platinum!” I called out in surprise, getting up immediately to greet her. She accepted my hug, if somewhat stiffly—rather unusual for her, since she had never been shy about shows of affection before—but I quickly found a possible reason for it as accompanying her was... I don’t think I’ve ever bowed so quickly and frantically as when Princess Mi Amore Cadenza stepped into my office behind her, flanked by two Crystal Guardsponies. “Hello, Five Stars,” she greeted me, bading me rise. “It’s good to see you again. Platinum Corona here has been keeping me apprised of your progress in setting up this new company. I must say, I am quite impressed with what she has told me you have already accomplished here,” she said, adding that she wanted to see our preparations directly and meet our new Gentleman firsthoof, having taken a ‘personal interest’ in our project for all the mares she yet hoped we could help. How could I reply to that except with another bow and offer to introduce them and all our new staff? I began by showing her around, introducing our mares and available Gentleman, of which only two were present. Scoop and Cavalier were very uncertain of how to react to her, never having dreamt they would meet an actual Princess! Cavalier gave a slightly awkward bow before her, but she waved him off, telling him she understood that it was custom in his home country not to bow before royalty. For her part, Platinum said surprisingly little through the entire tour, deferring to the Princess whenever she could out of respect for her station. It was understandable enough—Gentleman for Mares was her brainchild and done with her money, but at the same time, she needed the Princess of Love’s approval to begin business. Mi Amore Cadenza could quash us in an instant if she wanted to, so Platinum wasn’t about to do anything that might upset her. But as we proceeded through the tour, it quickly became clear our royal guest was anything but upset by our new company. Intrigued might be a better word as she listened to our business plan and we described the training already underway, not even blinking as we discussed how we’d landed our Gentlemen and were already starting to school them in the ways of pony love. I could have sworn Platinum went red-cheeked once or twice under her veil, however, which struck me as odd as she’d never shown the slightest bit of embarrassment before over our arrangements. But she wasn’t as important as our Royal guest at that moment. Our facilities met with her approval, and she even sampled some of our human liquors, remarking on their strength before putting down some bits to take a bottle or two back with her to the Crystal Empire. She next decided to interview our new staff one by one, starting with the mares who had not only agreed to help us, but had so graciously volunteered to train new Gentleman. I was not privy to their conversations, only to what I was told by them afterwards, but It turned out she heard pretty much the same thing from each of them—that they had greatly enjoyed their first encounters with men, even if they’d been a bit inexperienced, and had already formed close bonds with each of our four new Gentlemen. She followed that up with interviews with each Gentleman in turn as Freefall and Broker returned from lunch, wanting to make sure that they were all doing this willingly and had not been coerced into becoming Gentleman by promises of money or sexual favors. I daresay Freefall might have given her a little pause—particularly since she later said he tried to hit on her!—but in the end, she was satisfied with their reasons for joining and their commitment to the cause, as it were, even going so far as to give them advice on how to deal with needy or lovelorn mares. It was then, as she reached the end of those interviews that Nick and Judy walked through the front door, looking more than a little confused at the presence of Crystal Guardsponies and a few media members out front trying to convince them to let them in. To little surprise, Judy was completely delighted to meet an actual alicorn, while Nick seemed a little more uncertain, looking down at himself and suddenly finding his usual slovenly attire rather lacking. But Princess Mi Amore Cadenza (yes, I know you wish me to just refer to you as ‘Cadance’ but I’m afraid I can’t do that, Princess! At least, not in the middle of an article of this nature!) had never been one to stand on ceremony or protocol outside of formal affairs, which this most certainly was not. She invited them to approach, asking Judy to demonstrate some of her ‘magic’, which she did only too eagerly. Once she was done, Platinum Corona herself then introduced Nicholas, who had been carefully hanging back. She called him forth and singled him out, saying she understood he had been instrumental in untangling the ‘red tape’ as humans called it, securing her new business the various city and provincial licenses it would need. Her uncharacteristic nervousness continued, however, as she seemed to pause in between each sentence, surprised and perhaps put off a bit by his appearance. I still wasn’t sure what that was about, but I had little time to consider it before the Princess addressed him herself. “It is good to meet you, Mister Carpenter. Are you also a Gentleman?” she inquired in perfect earnestness even though we’d told her repeatedly he did not wish to be. Nicholas flinched slightly at that. “I’m sorry, but… no, I’m not. And I’m planning to take my daughter and leave in the next few days!” he informed the Princess with a very stern and pointed look at Judy, causing her to go crestfallen. “Aw, but Daddy...!” “Judy, we’ve been over this before,” he said somewhat tersely, not wanting to cause a scene in front of the Princess; I learned only then that Judy had in fact already told him that she knew the true purpose of the company, and impossibly, wanted him to be part of it! “I’m not going to do it, and that’s final!” “Really? That would seem a terrible shame, Mister Carpenter,” the Princess answered easily. “I gather you have had a difficult time, but for as much as you seem to desire helping others, I would think this would be a wonderful way for you to do so.” “That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you the whole time, Nick!” Freefall called out from the back. He’d never been shy about speaking his mind, and he’d been pushing Nicholas a little too hard as of late, to the point that the rest of us had to tell him to back off. “What are you so afraid of? That you might actually have fun? You’re allowed to, you know!” “Dude, lay off,” Scoop told him with a sharp elbow as Nicholas shot him a glare, and then one towards me, perhaps assuming I’d broken his confidence and spilled the beans on his past—which I in fact had not. As it turned out, Judy had done that even after I told her not to, hoping to get everyone else to pressure him. I met his gaze evenly, but otherwise remained silent, sensing anything I said was only likely to set him off. Whatever he saw in my eyes must have convinced him that I was innocent, because, thwarted, he turned back away. “Princess, I appreciate the vote of confidence, and I understand perfectly well what everyone else wants me to do. But you’re asking me to do something I am really not comfortable with… and it is way past time for us to be getting home.” “But I want this to be home, Daddy!” Judy was now near tears. “I love it here! Why can’t we stay? Why can’t you?” “Honey…” He was starting to look very uncomfortable. “Why indeed, Mister Carpenter?” The Princess asked as she draped a comforting wing over Judy, who turned and buried her face in her shoulder and began to cry. “I can certainly understand your reluctance, given the stigmas that exist in your society. But these fine Gentlemen have already gotten past that and accepted the call. I must admit, I do not see an immediate reason that you should not as well.” “They are not me! And if my only option to stay here is selling myself to lonely mares to support my daughter, then I’m not doing it!” he summoned some snap to his voice, causing some consternation with the staff mares—and myself—as to how he addressed the princess. “That’s not a fair statement, Mister Carpenter. I offered to keep you on as just a consultant for legal work with a decent retainer going forward, but you refused,” I reminded him, finally speaking up. “Who do you think you’re fooling, Five Stars? You only made the offer because you’re hoping to convert me into a Gentleman over time!” He turned his pointed finger at me, causing my lips to tighten—it was the truth, after all. Still, I couldn’t let that pass. “Be that as it may, have I made any effort to force you to be anything, Mister Carpenter? Have I done anything untoward since you’ve worked here? Have I pressured you or broken my word in any way regarding your pay or terms of service?” I challenged. “Maybe you haven’t pressured me, but they have!” He pointed a finger at the other Gentlemen, who looked completely unrepentant. “Pretty much every day since I’ve been here!” “Oh, please!”  Naturally, it was Freefall who answered again. “All we’ve done is tell you how much we’ve enjoyed being with mares and how good it feels to see them satisfied! So get over it, Nicky! Because we already did!” he answered derisively, using his own favorite nickname for Nicholas, which was probably the one he hated the most. The Broker stepped up and spoke next, pointedly pulling Freefall back from where he’d been threatening to get in Nick’s face—at this point in time, those two did not like each other. “Look, I get where you’re coming from, Nicholas. And I get what you’ve been through better than anyone else here—I lost my career and everything else that defined me, too. But take it from me—we can’t dwell on the past and wallow in self-pity forever. It’s time to move past all your pain and move forward, and unlikely though it is… I think this is the fresh start we both need. You told me you lived to help others, right? Well, this is a way to do it!” Nick stared at him in disbelief. “I lived to help others by proving their innocence, not taking it!” he protested. “Dude, ‘innocent’ isn’t how I’d describe any of these mares,” Scoop spoke up next, speaking to him over crossed arms from in the back, where he’d been leaning back against the wall, content until then to not take part in the conversation. He’d been on decent terms with Nicholas, and had even interviewed him once for his journal. “And hell, if they’re coming to you with any left to take, it’s because they want it to be taken!” “I don’t care! I want to be an attorney, not a freakin’ prostitute for ponies!” he said, which I admit did cause my lip to curl—I did not appreciate his use of such an ugly and unfair term, but held my tongue at a warning look from Princess Cadenza. “And I wanna be a basketball player, but we can’t always get what we want,” Cavalier reminded him, somewhat bitterly, having come to Equestria seeking a magical cure for his injured knees but finding something else entirely. “But how does that song go? ‘You can’t always get what you want, but you might get what you need’,” he sang a slightly off-key melody. “Well, I don’t want or need this!” Nick tried to claim, now looking very unhappy and uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had gone. “You know, for having once been a lawyer, you’re a piss-poor liar, Nicky,” Freefall told him to his face, his expression one of sheer contempt. “What, you think we haven’t noticed how you keep looking at Five Stars? Not that I’m surprised, though. If you ask me, she’s just your type—professional and pretty; somepony who lives to serve others just like you do. Admit it—you want her and you want her bad.” His poker face finally cracked; his guilty expression gave him away. So he resorted to misdirection instead. “Dammit, not in front of Judy!” he said in a sharp, low voice. But Judy took that as her cue. “Daddy! I already know you want her! Well, she wants you too! So why not have her?” she asked him point-blank. “Judy!” We both shouted at her, our cheeks going red at once. At that moment, a magical pulse erupted from the Princess’s horn, washing over all of us. I don’t know what was in it, but it was cool and soothing, and we all instantly calmed down. “Enough,” she said quietly, and somehow she didn’t have to raise her voice like Princess Luna often did to gain immediate attention. “My friends, please, we must respect Mister Carpenter’s wishes in the matter, as he cannot take on such a job out of peer pressure or emotional blackmail,” she looked pointedly from Freefall to Judy in turn. “Uh… thank you.” Nicholas looked genuinely grateful to her. She favored him with a nod. “You’re welcome, Mister Carpenter. But all that said… I am not convinced that leaving this place and declining this opportunity is truly your wish,” she told him gently. “Even before I became the ruler of the Crystal Empire, I was the Princess of Love, and that means I am very good at exploring matters of the heart. I sense much pain and fear in yours, so I now ask: would you be willing to sit down for a private counseling session with me?” He fingered something in his hoodie pocket again, as he seemed to do rather frequently when he dealt with someone he thought was being less than honest with him… which he appeared to believe was the case here as his lips tightened and eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Not a chance in hell! I don’t know what you’re scheming, but you’re hiding something, Princess! You both are!” he accused her, pointing at her and then Platinum next. The entire room fell silent at that. The Princess didn’t immediately react but I saw Platinum’s eyes narrow in anger. “Dude… did you just accuse an alicorn Princess of lying to you?” Scoop asked. “Daddy…” Judy later told me that she thought they were going to get banished from Equestria forever at that moment. “Ballsy, Nicky,” Freefall added. “Stupid, but ballsy.” “Nicholas…” I called to him. “Please. She’s not lying. She used a private counseling session to help me a year or two back after my first human lover left Equestria, and I was hurting for it. She’s very good, and I promise she only wants to help you.” “Daddy! Please!” Judy called to him again. “Let her!” “No! She’s not on the level! And I don’t wanna be magically manipulated by her or anyone else!” “How dare you…” Platinum took a tone I’d never heard from her before. She’d been quiet most of the way, but now she drew herself up fully and approached Nicholas, suddenly much more intimidating than I’d ever seen her before. “That a former young barrister would accuse a pony princess of lying when lies are your profession’s stock in trade? Methinks our sense of irony knows no bounds!” I blinked at the archaic term for lawyer, and the equally archaic manner in which she’d suddenly started speaking, one she’d later tell me was a product of her royal court upbringing, explaining she sometimes lapsed back into it when she was angry. Nicholas, however, was less than impressed. “What the hell are you talking about? You don’t know shit about me, lady, so you can just keep your big pink butt out of this!” he told her with a pointed finger. For the first time, Princess Cadenza looked alarmed, not taking offense herself but giving a worried glance to her left. “Platinum, please…” “Fear not, Princess. We… I... can deal with this impertinent young colt,” she assured her alicorn friend, then turned her attention back on Nicholas, causing me to exchange a look with my fellow mares, having never seen this side of Platinum before. “We admit, ‘tis been a long time since we have been addressed in such a manner. And once upon a time, we would not have reacted well to it at all…” she told him, almost ominously. “But those days are long past, and we will overlook thy slander in light of thy past traumas,” she announced in a strangely imperious tone. “And what would you know about them?” Nicholas was now giving her a leery look, not sure what to make of her sudden shift to Shakesponian speech. “Much.” Platinum approached him, her Saddle Arabian stature making her nearly tall enough to go eye to eye with him. “We checked up on you, former young barrister… as we did all prospective Gentlemen. Your legal record in your homeworld was astonishing, but not without flaw. In truth, we find it the height of hypocrisy that you wouldst accuse us of lying when ‘twould seem you falsely accused innocent witnesses on more than one occasion, and even outright lied in court when you could not otherwise forestall a guilty verdict for your clients!” Nicholas flinched hard. “Where did you—” “The trial transcripts were publicly available, and we sent for them,” she replied easily. “We must say, they made for fascinating reading.” “Oh, really?” Freefall alone didn’t have enough sense to be quiet. “Now I’d like to see them too!” he added before the entire room glared him silent, though it was only at an icy look from Platinum herself that he did so. Nicholas all but squirmed at that. “I only did it to save my clients or otherwise uncover the truth!” He got out through gritted teeth. “Indeed,” Platinum answered easily like he’d said exactly what she wanted. “Now tell us all, young barrister… what was it your own mentor told you about the truth?” Nicholas went deathly pale; I don’t think I’ve ever seen him caught so completely off guard before or since. “How could you possibly…” he barely croaked out. “We have our ways,” she told him with a sly smile that was apparent even under her veil. “Now answer the question!” she ordered him in a imperious tone like she was a prosecutor and he, the witness. He gaped at her, but did so. “To seek it, and everything would be fine…” he replied in a wan voice. “Thy mentor was quite wise. But thou art not seeking it, Nicholas Carpenter. Thou art instead seeking to leave Equestria… to hide from it,” she accused him. “In this matter, thou feareth the truth, young barrister. And for it, thou art betraying thy mentor, thy daughter... and thine own heart!” He gaped at her anew as she paused to let her words sink in. “Have you ever seen Platinum like this?” Double Entry whispered in my ear, to which I could only shake my head sharply, having never known she had this side of her. “Feareth the truth, huh?” Never one to leave well enough alone, Freefall spoke up again. “You know what I think, Nicky? I think she’s right—that the real reason you don’t want to sleep with Five Stars is because you’re afraid that if you do, you’ll like it. And even worse, you’ll be willing to become a Gentleman afterwards, just like we were!” He motioned to the other men. “Fuck you!” Nicholas all but snarled as, his temper rekindled, he took a step towards Freefall, fists clenched and ready to fight while Freefall grinned and lowered his head, motioning him forward with his fingers in invitation—he was many things, but as a thrillseeker, coward wasn’t among them. The Crystal Guardsponies moved to intervene, but a raised hoof from the Princess stopped them. I didn’t immediately understand why, but perhaps she was seeing the course of events even before they played out. For before me or my fellow mares could step between them to stop an imminent eruption of hostilities, Judy did it for us, preventing a fight from breaking out right then and there. “Daddy… don’t,” she begged him, to which Freefall could only smirk. “Listen to your little girl, Nicky. She’s got bigger balls than you ever will!” he needled, and for the first time, I was getting a very strong urge to strike a male. “Hey!” To my surprise, Judy did it for me, rounding on him and slapping him hard enough to rock him backwards, sending his hand to his reddened cheek in surprise. “Don’t you dare talk about my Daddy like that! He’s got a bigger heart than you ever will!” For one of the few times since I had met him, Freefall looked chagrined, holding up his hands in placation. “Easy there, filly. I’m on your side of this. I’m just trying to prove he’s full of shit. And to that end, I’m more than happy to let him blow off a little steam on me.” Broker pulled him back again—rather ungently this time—and very pointedly stepped in front of him. “Look, Nick… he’s a bloody arse, but I think he’s on to something here—none of the rest of us would have agreed to this before we slept with a mare. So forgive me for asking, but… is that the real reason you’re avoiding doing it?” “Not you too…” he looked almost betrayed, even more so when the other Gentlemen chimed in with their agreement as Platinum and the Princess looked on, the latter rather serene while the former looked supremely satisfied. “I think he’s right, Nicholas. And it doesn’t just hold for all of them—none of us would have agreed to join this company unless we were willing to sleep with men!” First Flight pointed out, motioning to me and the rest of the mares. “And when we slept with them… that’s when we truly knew this could work,” Vanilla Mocha added. “I’m pretty sure it’d be no different for you, Nicholas.” “You don’t understand…” Nicholas told them, sitting on a couch and clutching his head. “None of you do!” “What don’t we understand?” I asked in frustration, which was only redoubled when he didn’t answer. “But I do understand, Mister Carpenter,” the Princess said solemnly, “Because I have seen it from many before you. So tell me, counselor—is Platinum right, and do you fear the truth? Or do you simply fear losing your pain, clinging to it like an old familiar blanket long past the point it serves any real purpose because it is what defines you?” The Princess asked him in an air that suggested she already knew the answer. “Both are understandable, but in the end, they are simply excuses for avoiding life or love. I can help you, Mister Carpenter. I can help you heal and move past your pain, just as I did for Miss Five Stars. Five Stars herself can help you, for that matter… but only if you are willing to let her. You and you alone must make the choice to be helped and heal, or there is nothing any of us can do.” “Daddy, please…” Before he could reply, Judy knelt before him and held his hands. “I know how much you hurt, but now you’re hurting me! I love you, but every day you don’t try to get better is just one more day of pain for me! We can live here! We can be happy here! You’re allowed to be happy!” she added through glimmering eyes that threatened to shed tears at this point, saying exactly what I wanted to. “But…” I could sense his resolve faltering; there were tears welling in his eyes as his facade finally began to crack in the face of his own daughter’s pleas. “Judy…” “I cannot stay past this evening, Mister Carpenter, so if you wish my help, it must be today,” Princess Cadenza stated softly, taking a step towards the two, “I will be more than happy to meet you at a time and place of your choosing before nightfall and spend all the time I can to help you.” “And you think you can heal ten years of pain and loss in just a couple hours?” Some of his old attitude resurfaced, but I was more focused on the number—had he truly been in pain that long? How did he even function? “Try me,” she said evenly with a smile and glance at Platinum, who smiled back beneath her veil “She does not lie, Nicholas Carpenter,” our founder added, leaving me wondering why she was addressing him by full name when she’d never shown that habit before. “You may trust her.” “No, I CAN’T!” he all but shouted his accusation, causing some audible gasps and facepalms. “I know you’re both concealing something, not just from me but from all of us! So if you want me to trust you, Princess… come clean! What are you hiding?” he demanded to know, pointing at Cadance again. “Tell us the truth here and now, or I walk out of here and I don’t come back!” he threatened, and I had little doubt he would do so, Judy’s wishes or no. Our alicorn visitor closed her eyes, and then opened them again. She exchanged another glance with Platinum, who nodded once as if an answer to an unspoken question. “Very well, Mister Carpenter. You are absolutely right. I cannot ask you to trust me when I have not been fully forthcoming myself,” she agreed, leaving us all looking to each other in confusion. “So be it. I will explain to you all what I am doing here, and why,” she announced, then directed her guards to close all doors and windows and secure the room with locks and spells. And once she was satisfied with their efforts... I am not at liberty to say what happened next, except that what she revealed stunned us all. I truly had no idea—none of us did! At her request, I cannot say more, but suffice it to say, it left us all awestruck and gave us fresh impetus to make this new business work. And as for Nicholas…? He acceded to her request without any more resistance, disappearing with her, Judy and Platinum behind closed doors for the next several hours, the latter even sealing the room with privacy and soundproofing spells to make sure nothing could be heard or seen. Healing Process It was well into the evening when Platinum reappeared along with Judy, the former stepping out of the room behind the latter and closing the door behind them. To my surprise, Platinum bowed and apologized to me, saying that the session had revealed ‘extraordinarily deep traumas’ in Nicholas that the Princess was only slowly working through. I immediately asked if I could help, and her answer was simple and somewhat crushing: “Not yet,” she told me, saying that his feelings towards me were tangled up with ‘deep-seated fears of betrayal’ due to a ‘severe emotional injury’ he had suffered at the ‘hooves of a human mare’ in his past. She then took her leave, explaining she was due elsewhere. But to our relief, she pronounced herself ‘quite satisfied’ with all she had seen, promising us her full support and that Nicholas was in the very best of hooves. Midnight came, and none of us had left or slept a wink. Thus, it was more than a little surprising when the Princess finally emerged to say that Nicholas was now sleeping, and to leave him be. “He’s been through much, my dear, sweet child,” she told a worried Judy, who had come out for dinner after Cadance had told her she now needed to work with her daddy privately. “Far more than I could have anticipated or dreamt, but I have done everything I can for him. And he will need your support now. He will need the support of all of you,” she told us, then pulled me aside separately; I couldn’t help but note how tired and drawn her face was. “I believe I have set him on the road to recovery, but he will need time,” she warned me. “You were correct, Five Stars—he was not ready for anything, and had you tried, it would have made things worse, not better,” she confirmed my earlier judgment. “The best thing you can do for him now is to be there on his terms. Be both a comforting shoulder and a friendly ear, and let him decide if and when he is ready for more. I believe he will get there eventually, but much like your former lover Cruise Control, his healing process cannot be rushed. “And even if you do everything right, I cannot guarantee he will not react badly when he first attempts intimacy again.” she warned me, though I had no idea how prescient those words were. “If he does, do not take offense; you must simply give him time and space to assimilate the experience.” I told her I understood. Judy then hugged her, asking if she could at least sleep next to her daddy, and the Princess smiled and told her yes. So, we got her a pillow and blanket so she could sleep on the carpet by the base of the sofa, while the rest of us reluctantly retired… though not before Freefall was pulled aside by the other Gentleman and told in no uncertain terms to not press ‘Nicky’ anymore, or in the words of Cavalier, who was easily the biggest and burliest of the group: “I ain’t gonna be responsible for what happens.” As for myself, I slept in my office, or tried to, but unending worries about Nicholas kept me from more than a few fitful hours. What sleep I did get was punctuated by dreams that varied from having sex with him to accidentally hurting him… Or worse, hurting him by having sex with him, leaving me more frazzled than ever. It was only in the last hour I got any real rest and a break from the nightmares, though there was one final dream I remembered quite vividly. Even now, I clearly recall Nicholas somehow looking down at me in worry and wonder as I lay on my office sofa. He was speaking to someone; there were a pair of shadowy figures in the background, but I couldn’t make out his companions or their words. At least, not until he turned back to me and addressed my sleeping form directly: “I’m just a failed lawyer with a truckload of traumas and emotional issues who can’t move beyond his past. You deserve better than me, Five Stars,” he told me. It was at that point in the dream my eyes opened, my head turned to face his, and I responded in perfect honesty: “And I’m just a man-loving-mare who sees a hurting human stallion she can help. Will you let me?” I asked him earnestly. He flinched like he hadn’t expected me to respond, then faded back into the fog behind him. I awoke at that moment to find my eyes opened and body positioned just like in the dream, but Nicholas was nowhere to be seen. Road to Recovery The next day, Nicholas finally emerged from the side room in late morning and asked to speak with me privately. Somewhat nervously, I admitted him to my office. He started by apologizing for how he acted the previous day, telling me that he’d been a fool and finally knew it. He didn’t explain exactly what the Princess had done, except to say that “his eyes had been opened to certain things”. Not the least of which was how he was hurting not just himself, but those around him—and worse, for rather selfish reasons. After letting him say his piece, I asked with some trepidation what he wanted to do. My heart leapt when he asked me if the offer to remain on retainer as a legal aide remained open, and I instantly said yes. He then asked me if he could start ‘seeing me more...socially…’ and ‘get to know me properly.’ The other Gentlemen had warned me that courting and dating was serious business for human men, and given Nicholas’ proclivities, he’d probably need to very gradually ‘dip his toes in the dating waters’, as Cavalier put it. I thought that a rather odd turn of phrase, though I understood it well enough. I told him yes, and promised him that I would meet up with him strictly on his terms. And so we did. Over the next month, we started seeing each other for lunch and coffee, just chatting and swapping minor life stories, though we didn’t reveal the more painful ones of our respective pasts. Not wanting to trouble him with my own various traumas, I shared with him my happier memories, telling him about Cruise Control and Shaun, or even my dentist friend and Braeburn before them. In return, he told me about his own former friends and assistant, including a prosecutor he knew that began as his fiercest rival but became his closest friend. That lasted about two weeks before he started getting more comfortable around me and asked if he could treat me to dinner. To this day, I still have a hard time getting past the idea of males treating mares, whether stallion or human, but he insisted, and all the other Gentlemen warned me not to turn him down or he’d take it as rejection. So I told him yes, and when the day came, he borrowed one of The Broker’s suits—it was the first time I’d seen him without his trademark toboggan cap, and I was definitely surprised to see his rather unique hairstyle—and used the pay I’d given him to take me to the usual dinner and a movie, which we followed up with a walk through the park. I asked him if he ever did this in his own city on Earth, and he somewhat grimaced, saying that it wasn’t generally safe to go through the parks they had at night. “Then why would you want to go back there?” I asked him earnestly, to which he only replied: “It’s home.” He paused for a moment as we stopped in front of a reflecting pool. “It’s noisy, it’s dirty, and got unsafe areas, the local government is poor, and it’s prone to earthquakes and wildfires. And for all that… it can be a very grand place too. Loud and proud, surrounded by beautiful beaches and mountains and has tons of commerce and culture. I’d love to take you there sometime,” he told me, then blinked at his own statement. “Well… I might like to go sometime,” I told him agreeably, to which he initially hesitated but then smiled. “Sorry, I’m just imagining introducing you to certain people I know. Their reaction would be… interesting, to say the least!” “I’m used to interesting reactions, considering what I recruit for,” I noted somewhat dryly, to which he could only ruefully agree. We walked for another hour under the moonlight before parting, and for the first time, I decided to push things just slightly. I reared up to put my hooves on his shoulders, hugging him and telling him I’d had a wonderful time. He went stiff at first, then forced himself to relax and return the gesture, and I thought for a moment he didn’t want to let me go, feeling his hand pass through my mane to sample my curly locks. I let him do it for a minute, then realized I was getting turned on, and if he kept it up, something was going to happen I didn’t think he was yet ready for. So I put a hoof to his lips to stop him. “Not yet,” I told him. “You took a big step tonight, Nicholas. So let’s leave it at that, okay?” He initially looked disappointed… but then relieved. “Deal,” he agreed before reluctantly letting me go, escorting me back to a taxi carriage before we went our separate ways. Ramping Up Despite my admonishment, things started moving more quickly after that. We kissed on our next date, just a week later. We saw each other again just two days after that, and began outright making out at one point before he panicked slightly and I immediately pulled back, apologizing. He assured me he was okay, just… “Sorry, it’s just been a real long time since I’ve done this...” I told him I understood, and reminded him that everything we did was strictly on his terms. He shook his head again at that, causing me to start when he said the same line I’d heard from him in the dream: “You deserve better than me, Five Stars.” I chose a different answer this time, however. “Stop putting yourself down, Nicholas,” I told him firmly. “You think I’d go through all this if I thought you were a lost cause?” He didn’t quite know what to say to that. “Well, thank you for not giving up on me. God knows I gave you plenty of reason to. I can only imagine how badly you’ve wanted to pounce me all this time....” That definitely wasn’t the way a pony would put it, since that’s a rather predatory turn of phrase, but I answered honestly again. “Well… you’re right. I did. And I do…” I told him in perfect earnestness, causing him to flush—and exhibit a little discomfort in his trousers. “But not until you’re ready.” “At this rate, I may never be,” he told me, to which I only kissed him again, doing my best to take his breath away before pulling back. “Then I’ll wait,” I told him as he looked at me a little dazed, and this time I could definitely feel his arousal through the front of his dress slacks as I pressed against him. “Because you’re worth waiting for, Nicholas Carpenter,” I told him as I got down off him and put a little extra sway in my hips as I walked away. And after that, ‘never’ lasted less than a week. We ended up in bed together just five days later, a few days shy of one month since the Princess’ and Platinum’s visit. Consummation and Consequence As much as I would love to describe what happened… at his request, I will not, as he wishes to keep our intimacies between us. Just may it suffice to say… it was wonderful, it was magical, it was a two year-drought ending for me, and it reminded me once again of the treasures of a human’s touch. It happened naturally, we both felt ready, and at that time neither of us seemed to have any qualms about it. We did so in my private apartment at our headquarters building, for the very simple reason that he didn’t want to do it in his own quarters around Judy, and I was only too happy to oblige. Everything seemed fine… for at least the first half of the night, as we screwed, ordered out for dinner and then screwed some more until we were sated. I’m a bit sorry to say that none of those encounters were as intense as our first, where I just about tore his clothes off in my desperation to finally take him, but with the ice broken, they were enjoyed all the same. I’d been patient. I’d been careful. And this was our reward—a healed Nicholas now fully able to enjoy intimacy again. I went to sleep feeling content and happy; I thought we were good and all was well… until he woke up in the middle of the night and rolled away from me, waking me up; I looked over and could just see him sitting on the edge of the bed, his head clutched in his hands. I loved his hair as much as he did mine; he sported a rich black mane full of swept-back hair that seemed to become more pointy the longer he stayed in Equestria. But now…? Now he was running his fingers through that mane, almost pulling at it in sudden emotion. “Nick?” I called to him and put a hoof on his back, to which he jerked hard away. “What’s wrong?” “You even have to ask me that?” There was a sudden edge to his voice. “All of this is wrong!” He got up and stood up, walking away from me and the bed. I was surprised by that, having thought the last eight hours had gotten him past all this. “How is any of this wrong? We wanted to have sex. We had sex. And we enjoyed the sex. So what else matters?” I asked him pointedly. “And you think it’s that easy?” he spat out, myriad emotions roiling him. “Never mind the fact you’re a pony, you want to know what happened the last time I had a girlfriend?” “I don’t know and I don’t care,” I told him easily from the other side of the bed, rolling out of it and walking over to him. “I’m a mare, not a woman. I’m not going to hurt you.” I offered my hoof again, wanting to lead him back to the bed where I could comfort him. But he was having none of it as he batted my hoof away and got up, stalking over to the corner and trying to keep distance between us. “You may not care, but I do!” he told me as suddenly, years of unresolved anger and bitterness exploded out of him. “Then again, what am I to you except a piece of meat? What do you want me for except to be one of your comfort horses and a fucking Gentleman?” he all but hissed out. “So what was this really about, Five Stars? Were you trying to seduce me just so you could hook me on sex with a mare? Were you scheming this the entire time? Was none of this real, just like before?” he pointed a trembling finger at me as he spoke. With great effort, I held back a sudden and very severe surge of temper. “Not everything is a conspiracy, Mister Carpenter.” “Tell that to every client I’ve ever defended!” he retorted. “But then again, what the hell would you know about me, other than that I’m an unemployed loser of an ex-lawyer who can barely support his own daughter? You don’t have any fucking idea what I’ve been through! My mentor was murdered, my girlfriend betrayed me, I lost my law license, my reputation, and all my friends! How could you even begin to know what that’s like?” I stared at him for several seconds before replying. “Yes, what would I know about hardship and loss?” I asked in a very quiet voice, my lips tight. If there’s anything I hate to this day, it’s pity parties, having indulged in a couple myself over the years… and knowing how unpleasant they made me to those close to me, whether it was my brother or Delta. Regardless, two could play that game, and as he had just chosen to unload on me so hurtfully, I was more than happy to return the favor. “Oh, nothing really…” I leaned in close to him and my eyes went livid as I spoke my next words. “Nothing except losing both my parents when I was sixteen! “Nothing except having and losing four herds in five years! “Nothing except being driven out of my first herd by a jealous boss mare who wanted our stallion all to herself and being forced to start over on the other side of Equestria with no money or help! “Nothing except being tricked and taken advantage of by the stallions of my second herd, who nearly killed me on my honeymoon with an illicit potion, leaving me addicted and clinging to life for weeks! “Nothing except being forced to give up a coltfriend I loved to try a third herd, only to have that one fail when our stallion realized he couldn’t love all four of us!” My own rage and grief were growing with each sentence, and his expression falling to match. “Nothing except losing my first non-pony lover to the Cloven War, and my second to the simple fact he couldn’t stay here or return after, only having gotten to be with him for a grand total of four days before he had to leave my life, never to return!” I all but yelled at him, putting my hoof down hard, my eyes glimmering with my own released emotions. I then got in his sorely chagrined face at that, letting him see my hurt and anger, then stuck my hoof in his chest, poking him hard. “You are not the only person who’s suffered great loss in life, Mister Carpenter! You are not the only one who hurts, and you are not the only one life treats unfairly! “So a word of advice, Counselor. Next time you open your attorney’s muzzle, try not to stick your hoof in it and falsely accuse an innocent witness of things they never did!” I told him, only mildly gratified by his sudden flinch as I stormed out, then ran out of my own apartment, trying to flee the scene as fast as I could. I think I only made it to the alleyway outside before I started to cry. Reconciliation By the time I’d gathered myself and returned upstairs an hour later, Nicholas was gone. He left me a note of apology, one thanking me for all I had done for him and his daughter but saying that for as bad as he’d reacted and as badly as he’d hurt me, he thought it best for both of us that he simply leave Equestria now. For all I knew he was already on his way to the portal, and if so there was little chance of stopping him. He may have felt bad, but all I knew at that point was how awful I felt. Now that I had some time to think about it, his reaction to what we did was perfectly understandable given his past traumas, and even the Princess herself had warned me that he might have a bad initial reaction to intimacy. In any event, his reaction was certainly no different than ones I’d had in the past, especially regarding Miral. I wasn’t ready for my first interspecies affair, despite being around him just as long as Nicholas was with me, so why did I expect him to react any better? I kept trying to compare him to Shaun, who’d had no issues with it, but there were times I kept having trouble getting it through my head that he wasn’t Shaun. And right there was yet another lesson to learn—that every man was different, no less than ponies, both physically and mentally. Then it occurred to me—he couldn’t have gone anywhere without Judy, who was out at a movie with the others. So I found them at the coffee house, and one look on my face told them what had transpired. Judy was crestfallen and the others scarcely less well as I explained in clipped passages what had happened, though I didn’t finish before breaking down entirely, needing to be comforted. When I recovered enough, I announced I was going looking for him, but I was told gently but firmly no by the other four Gentlemen, who promised they’d find him and talk to him. They instructed me to wait back at my headquarters for them with Judy, who stayed with me, reminding me repeatedly that she wasn’t mad at me and wouldn’t hold what happened against me. “You tried, and that’s all I asked. Sounds like he had fun but couldn’t handle it, Miss Five Stars. It’s a big step for him, I know,” she assured me, and though upset and worried herself, she tended to me and finally told me to get some sleep, saying she’d wake me if anything happened. I tried, but did so very fitfully, various nightmares going through my mind again as I had no idea what had happened to or would happen with Nicholas. I got my answer the next morning when we got a summons from the local constabulary saying they were holding all of our future Gentlemen in jail for starting a bar brawl. When we arrived—by which I mean me, Judy and the other mares—we found the five looking fairly beat up, and Nicholas unable to even look at me, sitting on a bench bent over with his cap off and his head clutched in his hands. The story we got was that the other four found him getting drunk on cider and cheap human wine in a dive bar. As it was related to me, they asked him what the problem was, and he wouldn’t answer except to say he didn’t want to talk to them, telling them in rather obscene terms to go away. But they wouldn’t take that for an answer, and things quickly went downhill. “… so by then it was pretty tense and he was pretty soused. We told him he was an idiot for the way he was acting and he told us to mind our own fucking business. It might not have come to blows, but then he said some crap about not deserving you or anyone else,” Scoop explained through the bars like he was reciting facts for an article. “And that’s what started it?” Amber Ale asked incredulously, only for Freefall to shake his head and speak up. “No. What started it was me saying that if he didn’t want Five Stars and was so set on leaving, he could go ahead and leave her and Judy behind, and I’d happily screw them both in his place!” Freefall chuckled, sporting a badly blackened eye and rubbing his swollen jaw ruefully as our collective jaws dropped open. “What can I say? I didn’t mean it, I was just trying to prove he was full of shit by getting him to react. And he did. Up and decked me on the spot,” he admitted. “You deserved it,” Broker said unsympathetically, and even as appalled as I was at the fighting, I was still hard-pressed to disagree. “So once that happened, the entire bar erupted, and well… you know the rest,” he finished, nursing a split lip and holding an ice pack to the side of his head. Indeed we did. Regardless, wounds were treated, fines were paid, and further jail time foregone by the magistrate on the condition that the five not engage in fighting or public drunkenness again, with the additional admonition that if there was further trouble, they might end up “thrown back through the portal and returned to the Celestia-forsaken Tartarus they started in!” It was late in the afternoon when we finally got them bailed out and returned to headquarters. In the end, I was kept away from a sobered-up Nick until everyone else had a chance to talk to him, including and especially Judy, who spoke with him for nearly an hour. I’m still not privy to that conversation, but I certainly know what happened in its aftermath as Nicholas finally appeared at my office door again, knocking politely and asking to speak to me. I’m sure my own heart was pounding just as hard as his was at that point as I bade him enter, looking at him with all the wariness he did me. I immediately tried to apologize to him for how badly I reacted to his earlier venting, but he held up his hands in a halting motion. “Just… please let me be the one to talk,” he requested, his expression every bit as hangdog as my own. I nodded in response, sat back and waited as he gathered himself carefully, sitting down on the office sofa lounge a respectful distance from me. “When I was in college… I had my first and only girlfriend. No girl ever gave me a second look before her. She was friendly, she was pretty, and I thought I was the luckiest guy in the world that she was interested in me. Except she wasn’t…” His lip tightened, and went on to explain how he’d been betrayed and only found out how badly when she framed him for murdering her ex-boyfriend; a crime utterly unimaginable in Equestria. The truth had only been revealed at his trial, where he was defended by his now-dead legal mentor—not only had she not been interested in him, but she’d just been using him to hide the evidence of her deed, even going so far as to convince her twin sister to sleep with him in her stead so she didn’t have to deal with him… I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. His story sounded like a cheesy legal drama or cheap romance novel plot! But, as I watched his emotional reaction to recounting it, I knew every word of it was true, and what it had done to him. “She ripped my heart out and broke it into a million pieces, Five Stars. And after that, I never trusted women again. Pretty much turned that part of me right off and saw every other potential love interest as her. And then you came along, and…” he clutched his head in his hands. I sensed he wasn’t done, so I waited for him to continue, restraining the impulse to go to him and comfort him as any mare would wish a wounded stallion. “I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s that you’re not a woman so you get around that block, or maybe it’s that we do have a lot in common… a desire to help people and a lot of pain in our pasts that we can relate to. The Princess suggested both during our session. But whatever the reason is, in the end… you made me care. You made me feel again when I thought I couldn’t any more… or maybe I just didn’t want to,” he shuddered. “But whatever the reason, in the end, I just couldn’t handle it. “I didn’t want to admit it, but the Princess was right. I’ve clung to my grief and pain for so long that it felt like I didn’t dare lose it, because it was what defined me. In an odd way, I needed it, and if it was suddenly all ripped away… then what was I left with?” he asked almost rhetorically. “Just the knowledge that all I had become, I had chosen to be. That in the end it was nobody’s fault except mine for staying this way.” I didn’t know what to do or say to that as for the first time, I saw tears well in his eyes. “Platinum was right too—my mentor once told me to seek the truth and everything would be fine. And in a courtroom, I always did, trusting in my clients’ innocence. But this is different. This is the first time I can remember that I’ve genuinely feared the truth. Not for others, but for myself.” “And what is the truth?” I asked him. I suspected where he was heading, but needed to hear it from him. With that, he raised his eyes to mine. “That I do have feelings for you. Very strong ones—ones you proved beyond any reasonable doubt are both real and mutual,” he answered with a sharp exhalation of breath. “That I can be with mares, that I can help and love them like I couldn’t love women back home. That maybe somewhere along the line, in my grief and pain, I lost sight of everything I do have…” “Like friends who care deeply for you? Or a daughter who loves you?” I suggested, carefully not mentioning myself. “And that’s it right there.” He nodded his agreement ruefully. “The truth is, all this time, I’ve kept everyone at arm’s length, pretending I don’t care when the truth is… it’s all an act. I do care. I hate what happened to me, Five Stars. And I’ve been wallowing in pain and self-pity for it, selfishly hurting everyone around me in the process. Including and especially Judy… and now you,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve any of the things I said to you last night, and you were right—I falsely accused you of all that crap just so I wouldn’t have to face the truth: that everything we did and everything you offered… was exactly what I wanted and needed. A friend. A lover. Someone to pull me out of this pit I’ve fallen into.” He got up from the lounge and walked over to the window, facing out of it and away from me, removing his cap with one hand and then running the other through his hair. “Judy and I just had a really long and hard talk. You know she wants to stay in the worst possible way and now, after what we did and what I felt… so do I. You were right and in the end, so is she, Five Stars. I need to be more than I am. I need to feel wanted and useful. I need to help others. It gives me purpose. It makes me happy. But no matter how badly I may want to, I can’t do it in a courtroom any more.” I held my breath, sensing where this was going but needing to hear it from him. “So what are you saying, Nicholas?” He took a deep and somewhat shuddering breath, closing his eyes as if to steel himself. “I’m saying that… you’ve shown me a new way I can help others, and maybe help myself in the process. A way that’s both different and very rewarding; one I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to do again. And again. And again. What I’m saying is that for you, for Judy, and yes, even for me…” he raised his eyes to mine. “May my old mentor and her sister forgive me, but… I need a new beginning, and as improbable as it is, I think this is it. I accept your offer, Miss Five Stars. If you’ll still have me… I will be your lover. And I will become a Gentleman.” I didn’t get a chance to reply before both human and pony cheers erupted from the hallway outside my office, startling us both. Angry, I stalked over to the entrance and stuck my head out, finding the entire staff with their ears to the door. I ordered them in no uncertain terms to leave, and they did—all except Judy, who ran in and hugged her Daddy, telling him how proud she was of him and how happy he’d made her. As always, that seemed to brighten his mood instantly. They embraced for the better part of a minute before Nick asked her politely to leave, saying he ‘really wanted’ to be alone with me for a bit. She didn’t immediately take his meaning but when she did… “Oh. Oh!” her eyes went wide. “Oh, um, sure, Daddy! Just don’t end up in jail this time, okay?” she instructed, then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and ran outside, giggling as she closed the door behind her. My cheeks went warm at that, and so did his. “You’re a lucky man, Mister Carpenter, to have a daughter as loving and understanding as her,” I told him. “I know. And like I said, I lost sight of just how lucky I am and everything I do have,” he gave his sad smile again. “I have her… and now I have you.” He told me, and then he smiled, not his usual sad one, but something almost coy. “And if you’ll allow me to, I’d like to show you just how much…” Breakthrough You’ll forgive me for not describing this encounter either, but I’ll at least say that unlike the first time between us when it was pure passion and lust, this time he well and truly made love to me, taking me slowly and gently, letting me know what he felt for me and how much I meant to him now. Like any good Gentleman, he saw to my needs first, and that was the way he wanted it… for that was how his own needs were met, and only when I was well and truly satisfied did he allow me to return the favor. It was when I lay there floating afterwards that I truly knew he’d make the perfect Gentleman, because his satisfaction came from that of his mare—of his future clients. We became bona fide lovers after that, making him “my” Gentleman much as the other mares had found and selected theirs. I have to say, it did make things at least slightly awkward when we had to, well, swap partners for the purposes of training them on all three pony races, though I think it was particularly difficult for the two of us, for as much time as we were spending together enjoying each other’s company. I’d say in the end he wasn’t so much a one-pony person as a one-client one, as he preferred to focus on just a single individual at a time much as he did during his career as a defense attorney. And indeed, that was the niche he would carve for himself, concentrating on just a few select clients and sometimes seeing them exclusively for months until he was satisfied he’d done all he could for them and had gotten them to a far better place. They loved him for it, and though sorry to see him move on, they allowed him to since he’d enabled them to. But that lay well in the future. With our grand opening coming up, we had to get everyone trained up and dressed for success, and to that end, we worked them out hard in both in the weight room and the bedroom for the next six weeks, then took them all to the recently opened Rarity for You boutique just a few avenues over. The shop was new—brand new—and the owner, Lady Rarity herself greeted us, though she wasn’t quite as famous then as she is now, trying to expand her brand and name outside of Ponyville and Canterlot. Her presence was expected. The other pony there was decidedly not, as we saw a rainbow-maned pegasus in a pleather ‘bomber’ jacket we never dreamt was her friend—Rainbow Dash! We all knew who she was, as she’d made a name for herself by then not just for being a Wonderbolt and the only pegasus who could perform the sonic rainboom, but for being one of the first ponies humanity ever saw on earth when the portal initially opened. They called her ‘Rainbow Streak’ then for the prismatic trail she left in her wake, and that name seems to have stuck as several of our men initially addressed her as that, only to be quickly corrected. Judy and the other men immediately asked for her autograph, which she was only too glad to give, happily chatting and bantering with her human admirers and even doing a few flying tricks right there in the shop, which seemed to have some heavy ‘wubs’ as I’d heard it called going on in the suite above. While Rainbow Dash basked in the glow of her adulation, Lady Rarity sized up the five men she was going to be asked to fit, openly delighted by the task before her—“I’ve never gotten to try human fashion before! I’ve had so many ideas in the past but no clients to try them on until now!” she said almost giddily, and immediately set herself to taking their measurements while she spoke to each in turn. Freefall was up first—it seemed proper since he was the first recruit—and while the others waited, they chatted with Rainbow, who said she had to head out soon. Nick introduced himself to her last, as it turned out. “Nicholas Carpenter,” he finally announced, offering his hand, content to let Judy and the others go first. “As you can see, my daughter’s a big fan…” “Hey, any fan of me’s okay in my book! But your name is ‘Nicholas’?” Rainbow Dash blinked as she bumped her hoof against his, considering him as she hovered before him. “Nah, too much of a mouthful. I think your name could be cooler…” “Uh… ‘cooler’?” he said with a look at me and Judy. “Yeah… about twenty percent cooler. Oh! I know! Instead of Nicholas, I’ll call you… ‘Nix’. That sounds cool!” “Ooo… that does sound cool!” Judy immediately agreed to the laughter of all of us as Nick himself simply shook his head and sighed. “Fine. Guess it’s just another odd entry for my nickname checklist…” he rubbed his hand behind his head. They spoke for a little while, and I overheard Nicholas mention he was a lawyer in his previous life. “A lawyer, huh? I’ll have to remember that!” She clapped him hard on the back from her hover, causing him to stumble and cough. “Gotta go now, sorry! Good to meet ya, Nix! Guess if I ever get framed for some crazy murder rap, I know who to call! Oh, and you should definitely take your daughter to come out and see me with the Wonderbolts sometime!” “We’d love to!” Judy spoke for him. “Thanks for the autograph, Ms. Dash!” “Anytime, Judy!” she high-hooved her, then shot out the door in a rainbow streak and was gone. She certainly knew how to make an exit! “Wow, she’s so cool…” Judy gushed. “Don’t you think so, Daddy?” When he didn’t immediately reply, we both looked up at him. He seemed to have gone pale and was still staring through the door Rainbow Dash had departed through. “Something wrong?” I asked him. “Daddy?” Judy asked, putting her hand on his other arm. “Oh! Uh, it’s nothing, honey,” he shook his head as if to clear it. “Just that when she said that line about being framed for murder, I got the strangest sense of deja vu…” A New Suit Finally, and only after the rest of the Gentleman had been measured and interviewed—we ended up going in order they’d been recruited—it was Nick’s turn. Rarity made small talk with him as she’d done for all the others to start, explaining that “getting to know my clients enables me to tailor to their needs far better!” Upon discovering he was once a defense attorney, her eyes lit up and she said she’d always been “an enormous fan!” of legal dramas, her magic materializing a book she’d been reading called Mare in Manehattan, whose cover consisted of a courtroom scene of a mare defense attorney facing off with a pegasus prosecutor across a courtroom pit. “My favorite character is actually the prosecutor you see on the back. Oh! I know! Perhaps I could recreate his suit for you?” she said hopefully. Nicholas actually started when he turned the book over and saw a picture of the prosecutor antagonist; a silver-haired stallion wearing a black vest, white cravat and burgundy jacket. “Uh, no offense, Miss Rarity, but I’d really rather you didn’t…” he mentioned as he showed the book to Judy, who giggled in what I can only assume was some kind of private joke. At her behest, he removed his toboggan cap to show off his pointed, backswept hair which quickly sprang back into shape once he ran a hand through it— “Usually I have to style it like that, but ever since I got here, it seems like it automatically falls into that shape,” he admitted to some embarrassment, reflecting the experiences of many humans who discovered odd magical effects on them upon arrival in Equestria. Once she saw it, Lady Rarity went starry-eyed, telling him that he ‘shouldn’t hide such a magnificent mane!’ and then asked what he wished from her. Unlike Freefall, who I doubt had ever worn a suit before in his life, he did have a very good idea of what he wanted. To that end, he showed her a picture of him in the royal blue suit with red tie he said he wore as an attorney, and I have to say, he made a very striking figure in it, asking her if she could recreate it. She praised the photograph of him, gushing over how ‘dashing and debonair!’ he looked, then stepped back to consider him. “To answer your question… I can recreate it easily enough, and yet… I will make you a counteroffer, Counselor. Your look is unquestionably classic, but I’m certain can yet be improved upon.” “Improved upon?” he asked as she began to magically wrap tailoring tape around him while her other staff attended the other Gentleman. “Indeed!” she said as she hurriedly jotted down his measurements. “Trust me, Mister Carpenter, fashion is my forte. I will borrow from your old look, but make it fresh and new. And once I am through, I promise to make you look like a million bits!” she proclaimed. “And how will you do that?” he said with an incredulous look at me and Judy, to which she only giggled. “With a little something I believe I will call… The Art of the Vest!” * * * * * In the end, he indeed got his suit along with the rest of his fellow Gentlemen, and I have to say, Lady Rarity outdid herself… after a few false starts. Her third try was indeed the charm, as it turned out, and both Nick and the others couldn’t have been happier with the final result. “Oh, Daddy, you look so handsome!” Judy told him upon seeing him in his new suit, hugging him; even Nicholas himself remarked almost wistfully that he looked like he belonged in court again. “And don’t forget these absolutely darling accessories!” Rarity offered up a series of pins, pocket watches and lockets on gold chains, and Nicholas did indeed avail himself of one. He selected, to some surprise, a heart-shaped locket that opened up and had room for at least a small picture inside, asking Rarity if she could cut an existing picture of Judy to fit it. She did him one better, simply using her magic to copy the photo onto suitable paper so he didn’t have to sacrifice his wallet picture of her, giving it back to him to complete his ensemble. Grand Opening It was just a week later that our bar and nightclub opened for the first time. To showcase our new establishment, we had our five new Gentleman acting as ushers and waiters while we hired Vinyl Scratch, one of the more notable pony DJs, to entertain, having had the fortune of finding her in her dance hall loft above Rarity’s boutique. As far as anyone at the time knew, our men were simply some eye candy there to demonstrate the fact that we were human-friendly and meant to promote cross-species mingling. However, a secondary purpose was to showcase the men themselves and see if any mares that came that night were interested… and we were all quite gratified when they did indeed get a surprising number of looks by mares who didn’t realize that fit and dressed-up human males could turn their heads. Watching from behind the bar—which is where I spent that first night along with Amber Ale, making and serving drinks—we took careful note of who was interested in whom, and especially those who outright flirted, of which there were a few! We had a decent, if not spectacular, turnout, with more than a few humans visiting, delighted there was finally a place they could get a ‘beer’ or other more exotic alcohols we’d been able to stock. Though I hadn’t touched a drink in years, I indulged in a single mug of frothy human ale that night and was surprised to learn that I actually liked that ‘beer’ more than our cider! It wasn’t sweet, and yet, the pure grain essence came through, quite pleasing to a pony palate. “It’s like bread in a bottle,” Amber Ale remarked when she tried it, and she liked it so much she eventually opened her own microbrewery. After closing, we were comparing notes, trying to determine who was most interested and whom we might approach. It was then that Vinyl Scratch, who was still packing up, approached us. “Okay, sisters. What’s really going on here?” she asked with a sly grin at the Gentlemen beneath her magenta shades that suggested she already had a pretty good idea. “My momma didn’t raise no foal. I can tell this wasn’t just about eye candy. You were advertising these guys.” She smirked and nodded at our five men, flipping up her glasses to show red eyes. We all looked at each other and realized we were ‘busted,’ to use a human term I’d only recently learned. Knowing she had influence in certain circles and worried she might turn it against us if we lied, we told her the truth, to which she only laughed. “Thought so. Then I’ll tell you what…” With that, her horn flared and she grabbed Nicholas’ tie with her aura and began dragging him off. “Had my eye on you all night, Mister Attorney! Name your price, and I’ll pay it tomorrow. For now, though, you’re mine!” she proclaimed as Nicholas could only barely protest that she had to sign a contract first while everyone else laughed as they disappeared into her dressing room. The pair didn’t emerge until the next morning, and the other boys made it a point to applaud when they came out, teasing Nick mercilessly for it. And when they asked her how he did? Vinyl just reared up and kissed him deeply, asking if she could see him again next time she was in town, to which he could only somewhat wanly but breathlessly answer ‘yes’! In the end, she indeed paid well and became his first regular client—indeed the first regular client of G4M period!—and over time, more followed; word got around from her and soon we had inquiries from others, even one from my old florist friend, Morning Glow! Before long, we had two, then three, then five, then eight, then twelve new clients… And by the time Platinum finally returned a month after opening our doors, we had a working business. Open for Business That was just the start. Over time we doubled and then tripled our staff to support both more Gentleman and more clientele. Within a year, we had nearly twenty Gentleman hired and trained, serving perhaps a hundred clients; within half a year more we were starting to outgrow our headquarters and looked to open our first branch office in Las Pegasus. And yet, for as big as we’ve become, we never forgot our origins, or those who were with us from the start. Our first and oldest Gentleman have earned the right to do things on their terms. In Nick’s case, instead of clients choosing him, he’ll choose his clients from those interested in him, seeking those who need his particular brand of love and attention the most. He tends them sometimes exclusively for weeks, building them up until they’re ready to stand on their own. I daresay he treats them as courtroom clients in a way, giving their needs and interests all his attention and skill, and few Gentleman are more loved for it. For those who are interested in him, I’m sorry to report he’s stopped taking new clients now, save one—he was the carefully chosen choice of a very special pony, and I daresay she might be the one who could land him! And now, to conclude this final article, I’d like to share a letter from that very special Gentlemen, who joined reluctantly but like so many others found new purpose and the way to help others he so badly needed. He may not be with us much longer at this point, but his impact will never be forgotten. Well, what can I say that hasn’t been already, Five Stars? I’ve read through this whole thing, and I can only marvel now at the person I was and the person you helped turn me into. I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least say that you were right all along—what I needed most of all was to help people or ponies, and without that, I was lost. You found me and showed me that part of myself, and I couldn’t be happier for it. It’s true that I’m going to leave, but you already know why as well as my plans. As my contract is up in April, Judy and I are at long last returning to Earth, our two-week stay having turned into thirty-plus months! She’s going to take what she learned here to start putting on some genuine magic shows, while I intend to work towards reclaiming my life and law license. God knows I spent enough time moping over it and wallowing in self-pity, so thank you for knocking some sense into me, beating me on my own terms to do it and showing me that there was no reason I couldn’t live for myself as well as others. It was a hard hurdle to get over, and I apologize again for how I acted at first, but you stuck with me, and in the end made me a far better man—and Gentleman—for it. I never dreamed I would say this early on, but I will miss my clients and do feel a little bad about leaving them, especially one in particular I’m sure you can guess. She was my most important assignment, but in all honesty I think I ended up falling for her as much as she did me. I told her she’s welcome to find me on Earth sometime… and something tells me she will indeed take me up on that someday. I know I said I didn’t care much for money, but it sure does make things easier. Once I get my end-of-contract bonus, I’m going to turn around and use it to restart my talent agency back home, of which my daughter will be the first client. And from there, who knows? I know I can’t clear my name or get my law license back immediately, but I do kind of like the idea of mentoring a young new attorney or two for a while. I promise now that I’ll make it back into the courtroom at some point, but the suit Lady Rarity made for me will go into storage again until then. I don’t know what awaits me back on Earth, but whatever happens, I’ll face it with a smile, knowing I can return to Equestria at any time. For the friends I’ve made and the mares I’ve helped, I leave with plenty of good memories… and though I never thought it would be this way at the start, you’re certainly foremost among them! I know there’s probably enough hints here to reveal me, but one thing hasn’t changed since you found me outside that coffee shop—I really don’t care what anyone thinks of me for it. I do what I feel is right and make no apologies for it; as long as I can help others, whether it’s in a courtroom or bedroom, whether it’s as a father, lawyer or lover… that’s all that matters to me. In the end, you made me finally realize that, and I couldn’t be more grateful for it. Congratulations on reaching the end of your articles, and I’m certainly flattered you chose to conclude them with our story! Take care, and once I leave, come visit me and Judy on Earth sometime. I’ll return to Equestria next summer for Scoop’s wedding, of course—he wants all the original Gentlemen he was recruited with to be his groomsmen, and I can hardly say no to that! With love and affection, —“The Attorney” You’re very, very welcome, ‘Nick’. But I wish it known that I learned as much from you as you did from me! You were my guinea pig, to borrow yet another human term, and you taught me what it took to recruit men and all the issues I was likely to face. I consider it very lucky, in fact, that I was able to land you in the end, and I can’t help but feel if it happened later on when I was more experienced, I’d’ve lost you for moving a bit too quickly. Regardless, you will leave here missed and respected, and not just for your work with clients. Your legal expertise got us off the ground and kept us afloat more than once during the worst of this past year. I wish you and Judy the best of luck and look forward to hearing about your new courtroom exploits! I also promise to someday visit you on earth, as I’m sure your most notable client indeed will… though in her case, I imagine it’ll be sooner rather than later! As I’ve spoken to her about him, I have no doubt she will, Five Stars! As by her own admission, she’s attracted to ‘brilliant minds’ and those who fight for their friends, he fits that bill perfectly! —Platinum As you say, Platinum. Well, we’ve finally reached the end of this article, and the series, save for the final Q&A. There are more stories I could tell of how we initially took off or other Gentleman I recruited, but nothing that would match the ones I’ve already done. Every Gentlemen is different, and each is special in their own way, serving mares and helping to bring two races and worlds closer together. That was Platinum’s intention all along, and now, I think we can safely say that we’ve succeeded beyond our wildest dreams. Like Platinum, it is still my greatest hope that one day G4M will be obsolete, simply because human/pony relationships become so commonplace there’s no longer anything that special about them. No, I take that back. It will be because so many mares and stallions have experienced the benefits of humanity, and Equestria is forever changed for it. It already is, Five Stars! And never doubt your own role in it. I can’t say this enough—none of this would have happened without you. Or without you, Platinum. This was your brainchild, not mine. I was merely your agent, and we needed your support to sustain us during the worst of times as well. Thank you, for the bottom of my heart, for giving me a purpose and a life I now love. I still think you give me too much credit, darling, but I will accept your accolades all the same. And I understand you have some major plans for this holiday season? Indeed, I do! In fact, by the time this is published, I’ll be on my way there. The Q&A has already been completed, and by the time it runs, I’ll be reading it from a new location. Still an old friend or two I need to see, after all, and think it’s past time I do so. Who is it? I’ll leave you guessing, but don’t be surprised if I publish a bonus article for it later! It’s been a blast, folks. Thank you for following, thank you for all the support, and above all else, thank you for reading and learning about Gentleman for Mares via my not-so-humble story. It’s been a long trip down memory lane for me, and one thing I did not expect to happen was that others from my past would join me there. The reunions these articles sparked have been wonderful, especially the unexpected ones with past lovers like Braeburn or Shaun, and I never dreamt this writing would also offer me closure on matters such as Las Pegasus or Miral. It wasn’t all good, but it far outweighed the bad in the end, and I wouldn’t give this experience up for anything. The Q&A will follow next week, but as it’s already written, I’ll say goodbye and take my curtain call now. On behalf of myself, Platinum Corona, all our Gentlemen, and all the mares they serve, this is Five Stars of Manehattan… signing off! > Part 28: Q&A with Gentleman for Mares #3 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Star Service – Q&A with Gentleman for Mares #3 By Five Stars of Manehattan Special to the New York Life and Manehattan Post Magazines December 21 issues New York Life Chief Editor’s Note: Well, hard as it is to believe, this is it, folks. The final article. It’s certainly a bittersweet thing to bring down the curtain on this yearlong series, though our detractors will be unhappy to know that both we and Five Stars reserve the right to publish special bonus articles when the whim strikes her or she feels there’s something she needs to address. Not going to say much this time, as we already pretty much said all we needed to in the Chief Editor’s note of the last article. We enter the holidays with full hearts and a clear conscience, knowing we fought a good fight and did a good thing, telling a story that needed to be told and finding plenty of friendship in the process. I can’t say I really understood why ponies put such a high premium on that until I visited Equestria myself, but now that I have… I say this with perfect sincerity: friendship truly is magic, and something humanity can learn from our Tellusian neighbors. So no matter what you mark on either side of the portal, whether it be Christmas here on Earth, or Hearth’s Warming Eve on Tellus, Happy Holidays, and may they be full of food and friends, family and friendship. —Kalido Tenna, Chief Editor, New York Life Magazine Manehattan Post’s Owner’s Note: I share sentiments with Kalido, who became my good friend as well over the past year along with most of the New York Life staff. Though I hesitate to call what we fought against our detractors a war, there were times it felt like that given the battles we faced. Victory was hard won, but all the more sweet for it, and this final Q&A is just the punctuation mark on this whole affair. I feel very blessed and grateful for all I have, and if nothing else, for as often as this year threatened to take things away, whether it was my magazine or my beloved David, it drove home how precious friendship and love truly is… And what it can inspire to achieve. We not only survived everything from the HERD group to this idiot SJW crowd, we thrived, thwarting a Chrysalis plot in the process and gaining a multitude of friends and new readers as a bonus. G4M itself reaps the benefits, of course, through new clients and recruits, opening new branch offices and expanding their reach to more and more mares. I am no longer a client, but that’s because I have my man now; the Gentleman I fell in love with will within a few short months be my husband. I’m spending the holidays with him and his family in an undisclosed location, and for it I fully intend to make this a Hearth’s Warming to remember. —Hot Topic, Manehattan Post Magazine And that, more than anything is what G4M is all about, Hot Topic. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see the two of you happy, especially for as long as I’ve known Scoop as one of the five original Gentlemen. I remember he wondered early on if he would end up falling for one of his clients, and if that would be a good thing or a bad thing. He’s got his answer now, and couldn’t be more content for it. And for that reason, I think this is as good a question as any to open this final Q&A session with: Dear Five Stars, I must admit that I have been very moved by your story and the stories of your friends and lovers. However, there is something that troubles me; a fact of life that can’t be ignored in the face of this new kind of relationship. That fact being that Humans and Ponies cannot produce offspring together. I am not trying to be contrary, but the fact remains that however emotionally and physically compatible men and mares may be, there is currently no means by which they can have natural biological children together. I realize this is one of the draws for mares to Gentlemen, but therein lies the problem. Forgive an extreme example, but if every human and every pony were to take a mate of the opposite species, within one generation both humanity and ponykind would be extinct, no matter how much the couples loved each other. I know that such a scenario is rather farfetched, but it is something to be considered. The preservation of both our societies takes precedence over our own needs and desires, especially if those desires are not productive. If it happens that some few find benefit and betterment from such couplings, then so be it, but is it something that should be encouraged and enshrined by all? So I suppose this is more a question to all at Gentlemen for Mares. What are your thoughts on this? Well, yes. Taken to an extreme where both sides exclusively mated with each other so there was no more reproduction within our own races at all, that would lead to extinction of the species. But do you really think that’s likely? And do you truly think that’s grounds to oppose all interspecies relationships? I’d remind you as well that sex and rutting is for more than reproduction. It’s a means of cementing bonds, both between individuals and races, and those of us who’ve experienced it know what a truly powerful thing it is, to break boundaries like that. Further, there are plenty of humans and ponies who don’t ever reproduce already for whatever reason, whether it’s being gay or simply having no opportunities to. And even for those who do, there’s often many relationships entered and abandoned (like me) before finally settling down to start a family. Were those relationships wasted or wrong just because they didn’t produce offspring? As for the subject of human/pony foals… well, I find it hard to believe that Terran science and Tellurian magic working together can’t one day find a way to make it happen. It may be a few years (or decades!) off, but I think you can be reasonably sure it will come to pass eventually. In the meantime… you seem to forget that part of the reason G4M exists is that because for too many mares, there simply are no available stallions whether or not they want to be part of a herd or just have a coltfriend. Such mares aren’t going to be having foals, anyway. G4M offers them the male company they so often yearn for but can’t have, and as a side bonus, herd stallions are now taking their mares a lot less for granted given the new competition from men. They’ve had to ‘up their game’, in the words of at least one Gentleman, meaning that existing herds and stallions are made better for them. That’s my ideal, anyway. Unfortunately, sometimes the exact opposite happens, as the next letter will show. Dear Five Stars. I’ve found myself in a bit of a relationship crisis and after reading your articles, I feel like you’re the only one who can help me put things in perspective. I’m a human male who’s been married to a mare for the past two years. At first everything was fine, but lately I feel as though I’m being pushed aside. It all started when my wife began insisting that we bring another mare into our herd; an old friend that she had known since she was a filly. I was hesitant at first, but because I knew how important large families were to pony culture, I eventually agreed. I tried my best to embrace the new relationship but almost immediately after the ceremony, it became apparent that our new addition had no interest in forming any kind of a relationship with me. My wife assures me that her friend will eventually warm up to me, but after nearly five months of cold shoulders and snide remarks I just don’t think that’s ever going to happen. Now they’ve started talking about having foals, and though it hasn’t been said outright, I’m pretty sure that they’re thinking about bringing another stallion into the herd to give them what I can’t. I feel like I’m about to be replaced, but I’m too afraid to say something. Being in a herd means so much to my wife and so does having foals of her own and I don’t want to go back to being alone and miserable the way I used to be before I met her. Please tell me what you think I should do? —Trapped This letter made me very sad when I first read it. I know I’m only getting one side of the story here, but I can’t believe that a human man who gave up so much to marry a mare is now being treated as a replaceable commodity. I’ve criticized stallions who do that; there is really no excuse for a mare acting that way. A lot of humans—not all, but a lot—have issues with trying to fit in with pony herd structure, and I’ve known a few who quit one after they found themselves with the same problem that Red Pepper had in my third herd: they can’t split themselves emotionally; they’re a one-mate pony/person. Trying to force pony social norms on a human who isn’t comfortable is a recipe for said human’s misery (though I quickly point out the same holds true in reverse), and you shouldn’t ever feel pressured to do something you don’t like, particularly where your input is not being listened to. I hesitate to offer advice other than the standard one: talk to them. Make clear you’re unhappy and worry you’re being replaced or eased out. It may well be your fears are borne of anxiety and misplaced; it may well be they’re willing to listen. And if they’re not? Then I would simply say, leave. There is no reason you have to stay in an unhappy situation. Believe me, I know how hard it is to leave a herd you’ve invested so much time and emotional energy into, but ultimately, if it’s not working for you or you’re not getting out of it what you put in, that’s the surest sign it’s time to move on. I wish you luck, and remember there are plenty of mares out there who will happily give you an exclusive relationship if that’s what you wish. Next up, a slightly snarky letter from a fan who isn’t obliged to observe editorial niceties: Dear Five Stars and other members of Gentlemen for Mares, You’re probably a bit tired of hearing this now that the major commotions are mostly blown over, but here’s yet another person who appreciates the work you do. The work of the Gentlemen, and the affection and motivation they receive from their clients and in turn both spread around even to those outside the work, is what keeps souls alive and well. The haters of the initiative can pucker up and kiss my white rear end, because you don’t fool even yourselves with the fake moral talk you use as excuses… and if you do believe that “Harmony”, religion, or the “good traditions” of your choice are justification to attack these people that are only trying to make the world better for their clients, you’re seriously lunatics that deserve to be labeled D-Class and exported for the foundations that keep us safe from the most dangerous paranormal artifacts, beings or phenomena with your bodies and souls. And I mean that literally. And I’m not forgetting about you guys at G4M who work behind the scenes, so to speak: your work isn’t nearly as flashy or attention-grabbing, but you’re also the ones who make it happen and keep the company standing. My applause also goes to you! Thank you very much! Believe me, we never get tired of hearing appreciation for all the vitriol and occasional outright violence we’ve had to endure. Being told stuff like this keeps us all going and in good spirits, knowing that there are plenty of people out there who support us. Now, there are two questions I have: 1. This is mostly to Platinum and the other “board executives”: is there any way a human male can work for you outside the role of a Gentleman? I could answer myself, but it sounds like this is a question for you, Platinum! Thank you, Five Stars. The short answer is yes. You can. We have need for human doctors, physical trainers, bartenders, secretaries, legal assistants… basically, anything and everything that you can think of involved with running a bar/nightclub/business. We do have a few men even now who are on the payroll without being Gentleman; some are already married and others just have no interest in mares. A shame, but we no longer have any need to try to convince such individuals to become full-fledged Gentleman. Like you did with me, Platinum? —“The Doctor” You and many others, back when we had to be very creative about our recruiting, yes. And do you regret it, Doctor? No, I guess not! And there you are. But back to the question at hoof, we advertise our non-Gentleman openings in the local papers, and arrangements are being made with the New York Life to post our job opportunities in their pages as well. Among other things, we’re going to need some ‘web developers’ soon to set up our webpages and ‘apps’ on the new Equestrian internet, and will pay well for them. Be looking for such openings in the next several months. In the meantime, back to you, Five Stars! Thank you, Platinum. And here’s his other question: 2. This is for all Trainers, Handlers and Gentlemen who feel willing to answer: what is the most downright bizarre situation you’ve ever faced while at work, the kind that makes you think “ooookay, I’m just gonna walk quietly to that corner, and after I’m past it I’m gonna sprint the heck away from here and forget I’ve ever seen/heard this”, that does NOT involve sex or intimacy? Love, “Solid State” Well, then. Given some of the stories he’s told me about his past life, this sounds like a question for The Attorney himself! Hah! You WOULD pick me to answer this question, Five Stars. I’ve certainly had my share of weirdness in my work, both before and during my time at G4M. And to any Tellusian readers who scoff at that, allow me to say this: your society has yet to scratch the surface of what Earth has to offer in terms of weirdness. If we’re talking about the most bizarre experience I’ve had period, it was most likely the time I cross-examined a parakeet in court. And no, I am not joking. It proved integral to the case, actually. More so because the parakeet knew a few words, and those few related to the case in question. It didn’t stop me from craving a stiff drink after all was said and done, though! Now, if you’re talking about G4M-related stuff or just being in Equestria in general? Well, I daresay I had pretty much that reaction when Five Stars first suggested the idea of Gentlemen to me. And after that? One of my earlier clients was a unicorn mare (no, NOT Vinyl Scratch!) who wanted to, well, magically enhance me, in a manner I was categorically not comfortable with. Five Stars said many chapters ago that there was a Gentleman who had a client who wanted to give them a second phallus? Well, that was me. Now stop laughing, Judy! Needless to say, I broke that date off and we refunded the money. She did try again with a more willing Gentleman later. That she did! And man, you don’t know what you missed, ‘Nicky’! —Freefall No, I’m pretty sure I do, ‘Freebie’. You go for the crazy stuff, but me? At this point, I just want a well-grounded mare with a good heart and mind. And here at the end of my G4M duties, I think I’ve finally found one! I think you have too, Attorney! And I look forward to seeing where it may go. I do miss the relationship we used to have, but we agreed to break it off about a year back so we could each concentrate more readily on our particular jobs. We were right for each other then, but… I wouldn’t say we so much outgrew each other as had simply gotten everything out of each other we could and were ready to move on. But I’ll always love you, and I wish you nothing but the best. The feeling is mutual, Five Stars, believe me. I’m going to miss you when I go back home, and I know Judy will too. We do expect a visit someday! —The Attorney Promise, Mister Carpenter! But moving on… we had several questions submitted along these lines: I don’t get it. Would someone please explain to me why Gentlemen willingly sign up or stay on for this now that it’s all out in the open and they know about the overwhelmingly negative reaction they’ll get for it? Don’t they see they’re being used as tools to impose patriarchal values on mare-oriented Equestrian society that will simply export their home world’s toxic masculinity to Tellus? —A Woke College Woman I get way too many letters along these lines, and most of them I just roll my eyes at. I still cannot fathom that anyone or pony actually believes this garbage, but as at least one Gentleman reminds me, there’s no disbelieving a true believer. Allow me, Five Stars. Please, I want to answer this one. I had more to say, but very well, take it away, Striker. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you not to hold back! Well, Miss ‘Woke’, let’s examine your statement line by line — or not. The fact is I don’t need a degree in Critical Theory to state the blindingly obvious; you have never in your entire miserable existence stood for anything. You have never known the fear of losing your job, your livelihood, your reputation, for the things you believe in — much less feared for your very life. Indeed people of your ilk need never fear consequences of any kind for your college professor-approved, anti-social mantra of hatred against men masquerading as the enlightened views of John Locke, Jean Jacques Rousseau, and Adam Smith. All your talk of ‘oppression’ is worthless without sacrifice. You speak of patriarchal values like a child being denied sweets. What privileges do I as a man enjoy that you as a woman do not? The privilege to be told I’m the reason for everything being a disaster because I’m not being taxed to pay for your tampons? My only privilege is to stand here and be lectured by degenerate, dumpster fire thots like you on how my ability to do the job better than you is oppression! Listen love, if you’re going to play with the boys you’re going to meet their standards, just like the ponies do. What’s that? You weren’t aware Equestria’s greatest warrior was a female who kicked everyone else’s ass instead of taxing others to kick it for them? Would you care if I told you? Of course not. We both know you don’t honestly believe a single word of this digital bollocks you just rattled off. You just want free shite. And you think telling Equestrians that if they treat their stallions like slaves you’ll be able to bring your non-workers to revolution? Don’t make me laugh! Frankly Miss Woke, after four years of unhappy uni experience including two insane girlfriends who bought into your twisted perversion of equality, I have zero patience for people like you, so I’m just going to tell you bluntly to pull your head from your fat arse and remove yourself from your echo chambers filled with friends and social media that only reinforce what you want to hear. The only thing toxic here is your bloody inability to think for yourself or see how badly you’ve been brainwashed into believing this bullshit, as my Ami friends like to say. You call yourselves ‘tolerant’ and yet all you do is judge people on the basis of skin color and gender while accusing them of being automatically racist or sexist for it. Far as I’m concerned, the evil and intolerant ones are you, so sod off and kiss my black, Brit fanny. Yeah, I’m black and I’m British and I’m a proud Gentleman who greatly enjoys his time with mares. So let me put this in more exacting terms from my home country: kiss my ebon arse, you bloody wanker. —“Striker” A little harsh, but you should have heard the applause he garnered when he read it aloud! “Striker” came to us over a year ago after being chased off not just his collegiate football team but his very college by an ex-girlfriend’s false accusation. That there was no evidence didn’t matter; he was given no opportunity to defend himself. The accusation alone ruined his collegiate career and any chance to turn professional. I can’t claim credit for recruiting him, but it was amazing the change that came over him and how much happier he came to be once he arrived. The biggest thing with him was, he had to learn to trust again and come to see that mares weren’t women, as he has much the same issues as the Attorney had with them after being betrayed. He actually runs some of our physical training programs now for newer Gentlemen, something I think he enjoys a little too much at times, but aside from Judy, who he’s quite protective of along with many of our Gentlemen, he still doesn’t trust or think highly of most women. Now let’s get a different perspective on a similar but more politely-asked question: This question is for newer Gentlemen: why did you join, after all the protests, violence, and threats of violence? Weren’t you worried that you’re making yourselves and the mares you might serve a target? I’ll let a freshly trained Gentleman from our new Hoofington branch office answer this one. When you say freshly trained, Five Stars, I didn’t think you’d go for someone as fresh as me! Imagine my surprise when I received a letter in my mailbox at work asking for my input on a question in your final Q&A! I’m glad you’re still thinking of us over in little old Hoofington. Come by more often when you can, Silky misses her senpai! And now I have to get “senpai” defined. Oh, that’s what it means? Sorry, I’m a little rusty on my Neighponese, but tell her I’ll be back after the holidays! No need to apologize. You’re already years ahead of the average Tellusian when it comes to human terminology. Just keep in mind that we’ll continue to use the odd term on you girls when we can; it’s too amusing to watch you ponies trying to figure out what we’re saying sometimes. And we love you all for it. So, let’s touch upon that first question: Long story short, I joined Gentleman for Mares shortly after I lost my job in Hoofington. I won’t go into too many details, but after deciding to wander on over to a bar with some friends of mine, I ended up being offered a job as a Gentleman from the mare who would soon become my immediate boss. I took up her offer, finding it rather appealing. I was hesitant at first—I hadn’t given the idea of being intimate with a mare much thought at the time—but after looking past the different levels of hair, the difference in our gaits, and other outer appearances… in the end we’re all just mammals, and as Five Stars has illustrated in previous stories, we are quite compatible. I can attest to this claim after having my own share of experiences with mares, too. Aside from my sudden unemployment driving me to take the job, I liked the idea of being able to give comfort to mares who needed it. It was around the time that I was offered a job that I also started dating a lovely mare I had known previously for some time. She only helped cement my decision with her support. Like me, she saw the positives of being able to provide company to lonely mares. This job, while it has only begun for me, has provided me with a chance to offer unique services while also allowing me to meet wonderful folks, be it pony or otherwise. Well said. On a side note, I’ve received several sneering letters claiming we take advantage of the unemployed and emotionally vulnerable. To them, I ask the same question I once did The Attorney: would you rather we poached men from existing relationships and jobs? We prefer the single and unemployed, yes, because they’re able to commit to us, because we can help them and they can help us in the process. How is that a bad thing? Nor do I, obviously. You’re not tearing any relationships apart, and it’s not like Gentleman for Mares was holding a gun to our heads and forcing us to take on the job. It’s ultimately the choice of the Gentleman. And to anyone claiming Gentleman for Mares is trying to brainwash us into hating women, let me just clear the air and assure you that’s not true. I’m still friends with the female humans in my life. I might be an outlier here, but I’ve even managed to stay friends with my former girlfriend after we stopped dating each other. She herself has been supportive of my new job as well. Now, as for the risks, and why they didn’t deter me? Well, I suppose part of that is due to me not really giving such issues much thought. I’m sure the average Tellusian or human doesn’t worry too much about the day-to-day activities of a company like Gentleman for Mares. I feel that I shouldn’t let the words and actions of others dictate what I do with my life. Unless you work with us, of course. Those who obsess and try to undo our company are among a small, but loud, minority. The vast majority of people are simply too busy with their own daily lives to worry too much about us. Sure, there’s a risk of me getting beaten in an alley by some angry mob, but keep in mind: there’s at least three—if not a couple dozen—mares at Hoofington who would be very, very cross if I were to be attacked. It can be a bit annoying to be coddled… Another endlessly endearing quality of human males to mares is that they think that they’re the ones who are supposed to keep and protect females, and they’re endlessly surprised in turn that our instincts as mares are to do the same for them. So the end result is, we stand up for each other, both as friends and as lovers. Like I said, coddled… but it’s nice to be cared about. I think it’s more of a cultural thing that many of us are adjusting to, in the end. Anyway, if you folks who are looking to pick a fight with a Gentleman feel lucky, just keep in mind that there’s at least three mares who have served for the Equestrian Army here in Hoofington, not to mention a talented flight performer, as well as a former politician who has extensive knowledge of the legal system under her belt. And again, this is just Hoofington we’re talking about. I’d hate to see what the bigger cities like Manehattan have to offer angry protesters who decide to go violent. Oh yeah, one more thing about Hoofington: we also have a dragon security officer, and he knows Kung Fu. His words, not mine. I’ve met him. I also hear he’s got a passion for Kung Fu movies… and has come up with something he calls “Fist of the Dragon Flame”? We still have our dragon security guards here as well, and have to say, one in particular has been a very good big brother to Judy. Ah… yeah, he was rather proud of that martial arts move of his. Not so much for Silky, our boss, though. Thankfully, the snow has covered up most of the damage to the front lawn right now. It’s nice to see that he has an appreciation for Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan’s early works, though! Anyway, to those of you who might be concerned about the impact of our business, don’t fret too much. Gentleman for Mares is not trying to topple Equestrian society. While we do often joke at our headquarters in Hoofington about Platinum Corona having a secret agenda to overthrow the government, I know deep down our benevolent, fearless leader is just a big softie who loves all of us dearly. She does indeed! And if I am, I’m trying to conquer it with kindness, not armies. Though to be fair, this organization would make a fine secret society for the purpose of building the latter… And does that make me your High Priestess or Chancellor, Platinum? Of course! Every Evil Queen should have a few underlings, darling. We’ll even see if we can get Lady Rarity to help you look the part! Sadly, I’m pretty sure she’d do it, too! Maybe we’ll try that for the next Nightmare Night party we hold… If that’s the case, then I suppose I’m a proud servant of Platinum’s new world order as well! To wrap things up for this question, just remember this: in the end, all we’re looking to do is help others fulfil a simple, yet very important, need. If giving something as wonderful as friendship, happiness, and possibly even love, to another is considered to be bad, then I guess I’m evil. Though, if I’m evil, then Five Stars is downright villainous. —Mr. Natural Why, thank you, Mister Natural. According to many letters I’ve received I’m the most evil creature who ever lived, and in an odd way I take that as a compliment. I believe it was Firefly who once noted that a pony is defined not just by their friends, but by their enemies. And if mine are the pony HERD traditionalists or the human SJW crowd, then I consider that all the evidence I need that I’m doing the right thing, just for angering all the right individuals. Now that you know why new Gentleman are still joining, here’s a question regarding those leaving: Dear Five Stars: You talk all the time about why Gentlemen sign up. But what about the opposite question? Do Gentlemen ever leave the company and if so, why? Sure. More often than I would like, in fact, for a variety of reasons. Some, like The Attorney, are simply ready to complete their two-year contract, collect their completion bonus and move on, and though sorry to see them go, we wish them well for it. Others burn out on the job entirely and realize they simply can’t do it anymore. We know the warning signs of that and do our best to help them well before a crisis, but especially earlier on, we didn’t always. That’s one of the reasons we offer so much time off and plenty of counseling. There have even been a few cases where Gentlemen have been fired for various malfeasance which I will not go into, except to say we’ve gotten much better at screening candidates over time. But the most common reason Gentleman leave is a far happier one for both sides. And that I will leave to a recently departed Gentleman to explain. Quite true, Five Stars! But don’t hit me with the shovel too soon; I’m not dead yet! Thanks to recently seeing (and laughing hysterically) at Monty Python and the Holy Grail, I actually get that reference! Not dead, perhaps, but we did wonder if you’d fallen ill when you announced your intention to settle down with your favorite client! But I do have to say, she’s perfect for you. I met her just once at your wedding, and it struck me she was every bit as carefree and confident as you—to say nothing of enjoying sex and intimacy as much as you. Opposites attract, but I guess sometimes it takes a like mind to make a soulmate! Heh! Well I’m the last guy you could accuse of not enjoying what I do. I’ve always been of the mind that life is all about reaching the next great adventure. For me that path led me to the military and eventually Equestria. Maybe I’m more a man of the Paleolithic era, but I’ve always felt more comfortable on the move, looking for the next buffalo. Little did I expect to meet and get the chance to befriend one someday! I enjoyed myself as a Gentleman — sometimes a bit too much for my own good as my handler and the healer that rebuilt my hip can attest —but like with every other stage in life there comes the next big step. For me, that step was marriage. Thing is, while some folks see us Gentleman as mere tools to satisfy the immediate need of some ‘John’, as those who solicit escorts back on Earth are called, we’re expected that in the process of getting to know our clients, some of us will eventually grow past the point of being able to treat our relationship as simple business. For me, it happened when I met the wildest, craziest, most awesome mare a guy could ever ask for! Though few ponies around town could have ever guessed this side of her existed. You ever meet someone and just knew that not only was he/she the one for you, but that somehow you were both ready? That was certainly the case with Roseluck, who gave me permission to give her name in print to show solidarity. As an aside, she’s the best wife ever! For you guys out there reading this, don’t give up on finding the right one. It’s worth it. Anyway, Roseluck and I met as Gentleman and client for a pretty memorable night. It wasn’t a case of two lonely virgins meeting up as some readers have uncharitably suggested human/pony relations are all about. We’d both been through many significant others, stories of the ‘one who got away’, sadness, regret, and of course immense satisfaction at being good at what we do. I’m surprised by very little after seeing much of Earth and traveling to another dimension, but to meet my equal under the circumstances we met each other under? Life is full of surprises, I’ve learned, and I’d have it no other way. There was trepidation about what challenges the future might hold and nostalgia for the old ways that crept into our minds; that told us we couldn’t change. There were doubts that we could even function as a matched pair when ponies are so accustomed to living in herds. In the end, we confronted and overcame those challenges, and still continue to work at our marriage after being wed for just over a year. I’d always hoped to marry one day, and so we did. I find the notion of science one day allowing for the rearing of foals to be intriguing. Could such a miracle even be possible? What would this mean for our two species going forward? Given the seeming impossibility of our very meeting is anything truly impossible? Regardless, I will take pride in seeing my adopted son from Caleponia grow up to be a fine stallion one day. Another day, another great adventure awaits us all. —Richard “Stuntman” Eckhart, AKA “Dad” Thank you, Richard. Those are very healthy and upbeat attitudes you have. I was sorry to see you leave but equally happy to see you find the contentment you so richly earned, finding and making happy the perfect mare for you in the process. Another satisfied customer turns into another happy mare for life, and I’d point out to the earlier questioner that you’ve also demonstrated that you can still have foals without having foals. There are many orphaned griffins and Caleponian ponies following the Cloven War that need a new family, and I think it’s wonderful you two have decided to be one of them. I wish you two all the happiness in both worlds, and look forward to meeting your adopted son! Shifting subjects again, here’s a letter that brings up something I’ve been accused of repeatedly, and not without some justification: Dear Five Stars and other members of Gentlemen for Mares Though it has been awhile since I’ve read some of your articles, and I do applaud you for the content itself, I do have one concern about the articles you and your co-workers have been printing. That concern being the lack of positivity for human women. Now, don’t get me wrong or judge me too quickly for this question. I’m not accusing you of bigotry towards our female counterparts, but please know it has been awhile since I have read any of your articles involving interactions between yourself and a human woman. Now I understand your concerns regarding how some women treat their partners badly, but given that many of the Gentlemen you’ve been working with recall unhappily their experiences with their past Exes, they could be presenting you with a skewed picture. So what I’m asking is this: have you dealt with any human women that have been supportive of your work, or have approached you during your travels to say that they agree with you? That they disapprove of young women treating their boyfriends like a piece of trash? A good and well-written letter, one that asks some polite but pointed questions. Let me answer each one in turn. To be sure, I’ve met or befriended a few women both inside and outside of G4M business. It just strikes me whenever I do meet a new one how strong our gender reversals are, as I constantly see behavior I’d expect in stallions from them—expecting to be worshipped but not having to repay the attention they receive. That seems especially true among the younger set, I’ve also noted. I can’t help but worry I’ve been getting a skewed picture as you suggest, but the truth of the matter is, most of our Gentlemen are uniformly down on women. You know The Attorney’s story. Striker was likewise betrayed. Others never even had a girlfriend before they came here, enduring constant rejection. Now, in fairness, since we don’t recruit Gentlemen who are in existing relationships, that means we get a higher proportion from broken ones, divorcees, etc.—in other words, people who might have issues with the opposite sex due to past experiences. Are there good women out there? I’m sure there are plenty. Judy is growing into one before our eyes. The problem, as another Gentleman now reading over my shoulder reminds me, is that the bad ones wield outsized influence over human society and have made certain parts of it utterly intolerable for them. To answer your last question, I’m happy to say that yes, we do have women working for G4M. Some of our schedulers and secretaries are women now, as some mares have an easier time making appointments through them than other ponies, perhaps worried less about being judged for wanting to hire to a Gentleman. It goes without saying that such women know full well what we do here, and are fine with it. I’ll offer one the chance to comment here: Thank you, Five Stars. My story is pretty simple: I moved to Equestria a year ago, liking the idea of an equine world for as much horseback riding as I used to do, seeking inspiration for my art hobby. I’m a secretary by trade and have worked for various clients, and enjoying the setting of Manehattan with all its nearby attractions, I quickly fell in love with it, finding it a cleaner, less-coarse version of New York. Enjoying myself immensely, I extended my initial stay twice, then three times, then started looking for work, finding myself before long at the doorstep of a newly renovated nightclub who said they were looking to hire secretaries and accountants. They actually weren’t looking for human workers, but Platinum Corona was kind enough to grant me an interview anyway, though she did it behind closed doors and made absolutely sure I understood what G4M did and what I would be doing. Which I categorically did not on either score to start! I was shocked, to say the least, to learn what business this new club and company was in. But she offered me the chance to talk to both the Gentlemen and their trainers, asking me to decide for myself if they were being coerced or mistreated. So I did, speaking with everyone from The Attorney to Freefall, and all gave me the same answer—they had volunteered and, after some occasionally shaky moments, they were fine with it and even glad to do it. I don’t have much interest in men myself—personal preference, there (just ask my marefriend!). But that doesn’t mean I’m a man-hating third-wave feminist, or we all are. They’re just a very loud and hateful minority; the rest of us want nothing to do with these people and would happily treat men well. Myself, I appreciate what these guys do, and even enjoy hanging out with them. They’re good men, in a place that allows them to be good men. And having seen both sides of the portal, I’m sorry to say that they’re right—they get treated a lot better here than back home… though I’ll admit I was given cause to wonder how true that was during the worst of the HERD harassment. I’ll sign my name with an alias, not because I’m ashamed of what I do, but because I like my privacy. —‘Amy’ Thank you, Amy. I do apologize if I’ve come across as overly down on woman myself at times. You’re a good friend, and I daresay the boys like you a lot. Though to be honest, I think part of it might have more to do with the fact that you act more like an Equestrian mare than a human woman most of the time! That’s not an insult, needless to say. It wasn’t taken as one, believe me! Still good to hear! Moving on… This is sort of a general question, but I figure that there are some out there, like me, who are probably wondering the same thing by now. Is G4M open for personal advice? Is that even an option? Not relationship counseling, but one-on-one coaching. Or is the G4M process some sort of trade secret? The reason I ask is because not all of us want to be Gentlemen, and not all of us can be. I can’t admit to being the greatest stallion around, but I still try my hardest. But trying isn’t always enough and sometimes you get burned because you still just weren’t good enough. So after my last failed marefriend I’m looking for advice. I want to do better but there is more in the specifics than “pay attention to her,” “show her you care,” and all the other tidbits anypony can tell you. I want to make sure that I am doing the best I can and not just fumbling around, hoping it will all eventually click. I’m assuming the writer of this question is a stallion, even though it’s not fully clear the term was used literally as opposed to figuratively. I’m not entirely certain simply because the problem described sounds something more like a man would say, where a girlfriend is holding him to impossible standards and then blaming him for not meeting them. Whatever the answer, I can at least say this: at this point, we do offer Gentlemen-style training to those who just want to know how to properly treat mares both in the bedroom and out, but for those not becoming Gentlemen, whether human or pony, they do have to pay for it. It’s becoming a surprising bit of side business for us now. Whether you’re a man or stallion, I am very pleased to hear that you’re trying, at least, and keep in mind that it’s actually fairly normal for initial relationships to not work out for one reason or another. I forget where I heard this, but you generally need a few adolescent relationships before you can have a mature one; you learn and you grow from the former as the groundwork for eventually finding the latter. So as long as you’re learning and trying, I’m sure you’ll be fine in the long run. If you want to take our training, you’re more than welcome to. You can contact our Manehattan Headquarters for information on those programs. Hi Five Stars, I’d first of all like to thank you for taking an opportunity to let readers directly contact you, despite the media. I’d like to ask what you thought of human entertainment. What are some common tropes you’ve noticed? Have you ever read the Diary of Anne Frank? If so, how did that book make you feel? Well, after getting ‘trope’ defined for me, the most common ones I’ve seen off the top of my head are the ‘damsel-in-distress’ and the ‘evil-and-greedy-executive’ ones. The former I get, the latter I find overused and unfair. No, I have not read that book; I’m afraid my human reading list is quite backlogged at the moment, but I’ve enjoyed mysteries and human romance novels as well as the odd fantasy or legal drama. A Gentleman has told me what the book is about, and it sounds quite depressing. Since I try not to make myself unhappy as a rule, I’ll probably give it a pass, sorry. I’m sure it’s a compelling tale, even more so because it’s true, but I don’t need to read it to know of that particular time in human history or the horrific evils committed. We were told about them ad nauseum by Canterlot newspapers when the portal first opened, and I simply don’t care to revisit them. Speaking of which… I’m getting a curious number of oddly specific questions about my personal likes and interests, whether I like or have liked this or that. For the most part I’m going to leave such questions off since I could very easily get bogged down in them all and they don’t really pertain to G4M. This question was such an example, but I indulged it. Here’s another I will as well, simply because of who it addresses: Dear Five Stars: As we all know, Princess Twilight is a natural book worm with a huge passion for learning. Since you seem to be on good terms with her and people who know her, I was wondering if you’d be able to help a researcher out, and forward a book recommendation to her from Earth: “Into That Darkness”. By Gita Sereny, takes a close examination of things like morality, responsibility, conscience, and the way human brains can try to justify horrible actions. Well, despite meeting her a few times, I can’t say I’m really anything more than an acquaintance of the Princess. But I do know she follows these articles now, so you can expect she’ll read your recommendation here! From: An Open Heart Dear Five Stars, Please allow me to say that since discovering your articles, I have become an avid reader, and eagerly anticipate your next release. The story you tell is inspiring, touching, and genuine. The things you have been willing to endure to tell it speak highly of you as an individual, and for all of pony-kind. You, and G4M are doing a wonderful thing; providing mares with the care, and attention which seems to be so much harder to find than it should be. But men are not the only ones who can provide that affection. Is there a place with your employer for human women who also want to help ponies find the happiness they deserve? For the women whose hearts go out to the lonely, and despondent, no matter whether they be stallion or mare? Why thank you! But you don’t need G4M for that! You just do it. You want to help somepony, you simply find them and do so, and trust me, you won’t have to look long before you find them. I did that myself a lot in Las Pegasus, and some of my fondest memories come from it. If you’re obliquely asking if you could become a female version of a gentleman, that’s something we’d have to discuss, simply because I’m really not sure there’d be many requests for one given the ready availability of mares to a stallion. An interesting thought, Five Stars. I could see there might be some stallions who want to try women but are afraid to approach them alone; who might be more comfortable with an experienced partner and an evening we arrange for them. We’ll have to bounce that idea around a bit. —Platinum Very well, then. Stand by! Dear Five Stars—I’d greatly appreciate if you passed on my respects to Aces Up and Double Down. When it comes to myself and the people I care about, I live by a few simple policies: if they or myself are being threatened or harmed in any way, make it stop by either removing their will to continue doing so, or remove their ability. Do this using any means needed. Same goes for combat. Never start a fight, but always finish it. Never throw the first punch, but, if a second is needed, make sure the other person can’t come up for a third. I’m glad that there are stallions like this in Equestria. I will do so quite happily. I received this letter and a few other similar ones in enough time that I could give it to them for comment, so here it is: Thank you very much! For all the hate mail we’ve received, we’ve gotten a few letters of support as well, often along these lines. Our philosophy is actually quite simple: if you mess with our friends or family, you’re messing with us. If you threaten them, expect a hind hoof crammed up your tail and if, Celestia forbid, you hurt them… well. The HERD crowd learned what happens. Ponies still tell us all the time that it’s wrong or ‘inharmonious’ of us to deal with such matters ourselves and in such a direct fashion, but to us, we’d be lesser ponies if we didn’t. We are what we are and don’t apologize for it to anyone, least of all those who thought they could fuck with us, to use the human term. —Aces Up What my brother said. I guess Five Stars is right that in tastes and attitude, we’re human men at heart, but we don’t consider that a bad thing regardless of what these oddball protesters say. Then again, we’ve never cared what others think of us outside of our boss and family. Bottom line is, we live life on our terms as much as possible and strive to help others do the same; we’re lucky that after our wild and at least slightly misspent youth, we’ve found a way to keep doing that even as we tend our herd and raise our family, so needless to say… thank you, Five Stars, and Rising Star for forgiving the worst mistake of our lives. —Double Down You’re welcome. And indeed you have. Never thought I’d say this as recently as a year ago, but I wish more stallions were like you two. To use a human term, you two have balls of solid steel and don’t hesitate to use them, either figuratively or literally. No greater a friend, no more implacable an enemy than these two, folks. As humans say, don’t fuck with them, or you will quickly and sorely regret it. Dear Five Stars. I have been curious on how much of not just ponies, but other races, from your world have seen some of the media and entertainment (namely music and movies) from our world. I personally enjoy sci-fi and action movies and, while they tend to be really bloody sometimes, I also think I should mention the slasher genre of horror movies. As for music: I have heard amazing music from pony artists like Coloratura, but I have to say I like the genres of Hard Rock and Heavy Metal, especially that band that dresses as monsters *coughLordicough*. Have you or any of your friends seen or, as strange as it sounds, enjoyed the movies and music from Earth? Ah. So just a general question about personal likes or dislikes of human media? How refreshing! And something I’ll be happy to answer. Movies… let’s see… I do greatly enjoy human fantasy series as a rule. Lord of the Rings you already know about. Raiders of the Lost Ark was just recently released in Equestria and the G4M mares went as a group to watch it at the behest of our Gentlemen, who called it a must-see. And I have to say it was, even if I found the villains a bit corny and the action completely over-the-top at times… but a fun ride for it. I likewise love many of your voice-acted ‘CGI’ films like Frozen or Kung Fu Panda both for the gorgeous spectacle and the themes of friendship, to say nothing of songs that rival anything Harmony ever produced. (“Tellus has Harmony. But Earth has Disney!” Judy points out when she reads that.) I’ve also seen the Harry Potter movies, but in all honesty they’re not my favorite simply because the premise is a little ridiculous, never mind the depiction of magic being incorrect and even occasionally insulting. Overall, there were too many distasteful characters and themes in them for me, ranging from Harry’s overly-evil aunt and uncle to a Ministry of Magic that seemed, well, rather despotic even before evil took it over, between illegal trials, draconian laws and enslaved/suppressed subjects, to say nothing of outright propaganda and a propensity for both punishment of the innocent and forcibly wiping ‘muggle’ memories—something that’s a felony in Equestria. The movies had great spectacle, and that the books they were based on have apparently sparked great interest in reading among children is a very good thing. But nevertheless, this is not a society that should be emulated, nor is that how magic works. Aside from fantasy, I immensely enjoy action and war stories as I’ve mentioned before, finding them a very guilty pleasure. I’ve seen the 300 movies and loved them even if ‘they make hash of history’ as The Attorney himself told me; the idea of great warrior males fighting for their lands, women and nation is just a huge turn-on to me even if I can’t bear the sight of them falling in battle. After seeing that video Shaun showed me the first night he was in Equestria, I also made it a point to get and watch a copy of Battle of Britain so I could understand the context of the song he played for me better. I guess the point I’m making here is, our own war movies don’t really compare, though I’m very much looking forward to Rise of Firefly, and not just because I have a role in it. As it’s being produced in part by a famous human movie company, that means it should get the same treatment—gritty and authentic—and indeed, to that end, they’re using period accents, uniforms and weapons, having all the extras train and live as soldiers did then. The leads are likewise putting themselves through Tartarus itself, engaging in brutal training regimens of their own to ready themselves for their roles, and thus ensure they can fly and fight just as their historical counterparts did. But there’s a third class of movie I enjoy most of all, best showcased in films like the Star Trek and Captain America series. Though ‘science fiction’ and the superhero genres are certainly interesting and unique to me—basically just alternate forms of fantasy in my view—what most attracts me to those movies (aside from chiseled males!) are the simple themes of camaraderie and friendship, such as between a Captain and his crew, or a leader and his soldiers. I cried at the ending of the third Captain America movie for all the broken friendships, yet was equally moved to tears by the enormous sacrifice the hero was willing to make to save his oldest and dearest friend. Shows like that alone convince me that humanity’s potential is vast and their capacity for friendship enormous, and that the opening of the portal was a great boon for us both. Music? Well, it’s a mixture. The sheer number of movie and music genres humanity has can be daunting. I enjoy classical—I believe I mentioned I cried the first time I heard Ode to Joy—but once that article with Shaun was out and some Gentleman recognized the source of the Aces in Exile song he played for me, they started having me listen to other songs and albums by the same group. Some are a little too ‘metal’ for me, but others I really do like. Never been one for ‘wub’, which this isn’t far removed from, but the themes of the music, often heroic ones that celebrate great men and battles, resonate with me. Equestrian songs just don’t compare. But getting back on topic… Dear Five Stars, I just wanted to write to you and thank you on behalf of the Gentleman for Mares Hoofington Branch for your visit earlier this year. I think it’s fair to say that everyone enjoyed having you visit our humble little establishment earlier this autumn. You’ll be happy to know that we’ve managed to avoid all the drama that’s been going on at the Manehattan and Las Pegasus branches. As I’m sure you already know, we have taken your advice and hired some full-time security, though. Just in case. There’s been only a couple small protests, and they’ve been mostly civil. I suppose that’s a nice silver lining to have! Either way, we’ve been doing well for ourselves, and our rookie Gentlemen are shaping into very promising individuals! So, thanks for keeping our little place a secret for the couple of months since your visit! Your little sister headquarters appreciates it! I also want to thank you personally for helping me deal with my own issues, which I’m sure you recall. I’m still coming to terms with being unable to ever have foals of my own, but my Gentleman and the mares at work have been there for me. I appreciated your kindness during your visit, being a shoulder to lean on while I was bawling like a school filly who was dumped at the local dance by her coltfriend. You made a good point: it’s never too late to start over, something you have done repeatedly over the years. Those were very trying times for me, but I’m past the lowest points now, I think. So, I suppose it’s only right that I ask a question of you: What is the most important thing a herd can do for its members? What makes a herd the thing that it is? I’m sure you have a novel’s worth of things to say on the idea, but is there anything you think stands above all else? Much love, Silver Spanner, G4M Hoofington Branch You’re very welcome, Silver. My heart went out to you when you told us what happened that day, and I’m just grateful that we were there to help you. You’re right in that I could author another thirty articles on that question alone, but if I could boil it down to a single thing that all herds should do (and why so many fail), it would be this: treat all members equally, by which I mean give them the same status and stature; the same amount of attention and affection. No lead mares, no favored mates. That doesn’t mean each member can’t have different roles or preferences, much as my third herd did, just that favorites aren’t played. Above all else, remember that we’re ponies (and now people), with individual desires and needs. We’re not interchangeable or disposable, and we do suffer when we don’t get attention or feel like we’re being replaced, as a previous letter writer noted. Air issues and put problems in the open; don’t pretend they don’t exist. Even stallions and mares who can’t give foals can still contribute to a herd, and they shouldn’t ever just be thrown away. And now, to save, if not the best, certainly the most unexpected letter I’ve received for last! Instead of breaking it up as I’ve done some earlier letters, I’m going to present it full before I respond. Hello Five Stars, If you’ve actually gotten to read this, thank you! You are truly a brave and wonderful mare, and I applaud you for, as my boyfriend would likely put it, having some real ‘cojones’. I’ve been following your articles for some time now, and reading your words and learning about what you’ve gone through has given me the courage to say this: I am a changeling. There. I said it. I’m looking at the sentence right now, even as I continue writing, and I cannot believe I put this on ink and paper. I’m tempted to burn up this whole letter, but I know now that if I do, I’ll never be able to do this again. So yeah, I’m a changeling. Believe it or not, it’s true. Each of us changelings is an individual, just like any pony, griffin, diamond dog, zebra, etc. We have our own dreams, likes, dislikes, talents, and we only wish to live our lives as best as we can. There are some things I cannot share with you about our life, namely out of respect for those who perhaps don’t want Equestria knowing too much about them. However, I will stand by what I have stated so far. We can feel, and we can hurt. We can laugh, mourn, fear, and most importantly, we can love. We have a different way of seeing love, but we still cherish it. I am what some would call an ‘Independent’. I am a changeling who lives alone, and I’m going to leave it at that. That’s part of the reason I never included a return address on my letter. I have recently fallen for a young human. Not just any human, either, but a Gentleman. He’s a wonderful, loving man who makes me smile, laugh, and he gives me something to look forward to outside of the daily monotony that has been my life for several years now. I want to make him realize how much he’s come to mean to me, and let him know that he can trust me and feel comfortable with me. Call it cheesy, but sometimes it hurts when I think of how much I care for him. Maybe I’m desperate, or maybe humans have a weird effect on us Tellusians. I do not know, but I do know that I love him. So, that brings me to my current dilemma. Should I reveal my secret? Do I stay quiet, and let him live a life free of this secret that could cast a dark cloud over our relationship? I trust him, Five Stars. I really do. He may be a Gentleman, but his love for me is something stronger than just wanting to show me a good night and provide companionship. He’s joked about us buying a house together a few times, even saying that if we ever formed a herd, I’d be the head mare. But… everytime I hear him say such things, I cannot help but feel a hint of hope to his words, mixed in with the mirth he’s always exuding. Five Stars, I know that you may not trust me. You have little reason to, honestly. Still, please believe me when I say I love this man. What should I do? If you have even a scrap of concern for me and others who may be in my situation, please lend me some advice. I’m afraid that if I don’t do something soon, I’m going to end up making the wrong choice later and risk losing him. Anything would be greatly appreciated.Thank you. A Torn and Distraught Fan of Yours Wow. Just… wow. I have to admit, I had no idea what to do or say after first reading this. Part of me wanted to try and offer advice, another part wanted to immediately warn the Royal Guard to see if they could identify the source of this letter, suddenly worrying that it might be one of my own Gentleman being tricked into loving a creature that was only using it. The trauma of the Changeling attack on Canterlot and learning more recently what happened to Scoop still holds sway over many of us, after all. Upon reading this, I consulted with Platinum and Hot Topic. The former said she knew ‘only anecdotally’ of Changelings, but had heard of at least one ‘independent’ in the Crystal Kingdom who could be trusted. She cautiously advised me to answer the letter openly, but in the end it was Hot Topic that swayed me, reminding me that Changelings were anything but monolithic and had indeed helped her during her search for Scoop, providing protection and information that ultimately led to both him and many captured humans, being held in pods harvested for love by Chrysalis’ hive. And I also remember that I in fact knew two Changelings myself back in my Las Pegasus days without even realizing it, and they were quite friendly and pleasant, doing what they needed to to survive. I can’t help but wonder now what became of them, how they’re getting along in a world where they’re now mistrusted if not occasionally outright hunted. I appreciate the courage it took to write this letter, so I will do my best to answer and offer good advice for the sake of the man in question if nothing else. I do not wish to see one hurt, ever, and I will trust that in the end, neither do you. I believe I understand the dilemma you face. You need his love not just emotionally, but to physically survive, and you’re terrified that if you reveal your true nature to him, that love will be withdrawn and you will suffer and starve. But if you truly love him back, and his feelings for you are as strong as you say? Then I must ask that for both your sake and his, that you reveal yourself. If you truly do love him, then trust him. Trust in the love you share. Love requires openness and acceptance between partners, and lacking it, that love becomes tainted and impure. You may will find that his love for you becomes even stronger afterwards for it, now that he knows your greatest secret and that you saw fit to reveal it to him. That would be the ultimate act of love and trust, and who then knows where it might lead? Perhaps the day can come when Changelings can walk openly among us. Never happen? Remember it did for thestrals, though the process wasn’t instant. If there is to be rapprochement between our races, it will start as G4M did—with a few brave individuals willing to be pioneers. You don’t have to be one yourself, but I truly feel that coming out to your human lover is the right thing to do in the long run. It may cause some consternation at first, and he may even react badly at first, just as Nicholas did. But if he truly loves and wants you, as Nicholas did with me… that, in the end, trumps all. I wish you luck and if you do decide to take this advice, I will be curious to know how it went. So please write again, anonymously if you must. I’ll be looking for it. And with that, we ring down the curtain on this long run of articles. Feels a little odd that I’m finishing this article before the last one was completed, but I wanted to have a clear head to focus on the story of me and Nick, which I was finding a surprisingly tough and emotional chore to write. Not because the story was unpleasant or sparked bad memories, but because, in an odd way, I’ve been afraid I couldn’t do the tale due credit and showcase him as he deserved to be. He was my first Gentleman, and in many ways still my favorite and most loved, even for all the other notable ones I’ve found. I don’t see a need to say my full goodbyes here since I will do so in the final full article, which will actually appear before this one even though I’ll finish it last. So for now, all I’ll say is… it’s been one hay of a ride, folks, and I do find it quite bittersweet that it’s coming to an end. All good things must, as they say, but the warm heart, heartfelt reunions and many pleasant memories they’ve brought me will long linger. I look forward to the future now, whatever it may hold, doing the job I love for the company I helped build. Maybe my new fame won’t last, but considering I can’t go out without a disguise and/or bodyguards now, maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing and I could go back to regular recruiting again? Guess we’ll see in time! Take care, folks. Enjoy the holidays, whatever one you celebrate, and if you happen to end up in Las Pegasus for New Years, don’t expect to keep your shirt on! Heh. Never did get out there. Should probably make it a point to do so before I leave, since I’d love to see how my poker and observational skills match up against card sharks like Aces Up and Double Down! Anyway, this is Nicholas speaking now. I’m adding this after you’ve already finished the Q&A and departed for parts unknown, Five Stars, so I’d just like to say again—you succeeded with that article about the two of us! You ‘showcased’ me just fine; I couldn’t be happier with your portrayal of me and events between us. It was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, and in the end, a defense attorney can’t ask for any more than that! However, we also received another letter late, after your Q&A was written. Or more precisely, I did. Though the Q&A is complete, I’ve asked Platinum and the two newspaper editors to let me amend a response to the end of this article. The letter is from a dear friend of mine, a friend and former courtroom rival who was also the original inspiration for me to become an attorney. —”The Attorney” Dear ‘Nicholas’: I have to admit, when I wondered what you were doing these past several years, I scarcely imagined an occupation such as this! Though I did not follow the articles right away, I eventually had my curiosity roused as to why a New York magazine had come under heavy fire, and why we were seeing some protests against them even here, a continent away. I made some inquiries, and managed to secure copies of the articles, as well as a subscription to the online magazine. ‘Twas a fascinating, if somewhat more detailed than necessary treatise on our interdimensional neighbors. Onto the subject at hand; the moment Five Stars mentioned a Gentleman by the name of ‘The Attorney’ I somehow knew it was you. Mind, I denied it for some time until the next article confirmed my suspicions. While I applaud you for actually getting paid for doing legal work (the number of cases you’ve taken pro bono astounds me) the fact remains that you then turned to a very different occupation, and for the life of me, I fail to understand why. With your legal expertise, you could have easily secured a job in Equestria, regardless of your legal standing on Earth. More concerning than that is the news that you apparently have a romantic interest in a mare. I will not pretend to understand such an attraction, but that is not my main worry here. Not to put too fine a point on it, old friend, but you have had horrible luck with women unless they are several years your junior. Might I ask what has possessed you to pursue romance again, when the last woman you entrusted your heart to ripped it out? I do not mean to offend, but I would not wish to see you wounded again. I read the trial transcripts, ‘Nick’, and I am very concerned that history might repeat itself. I know your luck means that things usually work out for you in the end, but there are some chances I would be wary of taking. I hope to hear back from you soon. Sincerely, [redacted] It’s good to know you care, old friend, and I’m glad to hear from you. I’ve removed your signature and title since anyone with Google could look you up quite easily. Heck, there are times when I wonder why Five Stars concealed some names in her articles, since people like you are good at drawing logical conclusions even from scarce evidence. As to your concerns… while it’s true that I possess a great deal of legal expertise, getting another job here in Equestria isn’t that simple. First off, the Equestrians do perform background checks, and they are quite thorough. While some background information they ask for doesn’t apply to me (Cutie Mark, whether I changed my name after receiving it, etc.), my getting disbarred on Earth would have been a huge red flag to any law firms, and would probably have gotten me bucked right out the door without even a hoofshake. Until I clean my record on Earth, I’m not liable to get any legal work aside from cutting through red tape for businesses. And we both know that’s more your style than mine; it took me a long time to get everything ironed out for G4M, as the articles showed! With regards to my romantic life… I never thought I’d say this to you, but it’s not any of your business. The mare in question and I have agreed we’re rather perfect for each other, and that’s that. You will no doubt meet her in due course, when she’s ready to reveal herself. I thank you for your concern, and appreciate the honesty, but this is one time where I don’t feel it’s necessary. She’s not going to be another ‘Dollie’. I don’t think anypony in Tellus is capable of being like her. And that’s it right there. That’s why I and so many other men fell for mares as opposed to women, because mares weren’t women and we didn’t see them as that she-devil I originally fell for. Like as happened with so many other men, Five Stars got around my mental blocks to piece back together my broken heart, and I’ll forever love her for it. In fact, my friend… you should give mares a try yourself! I can think of one in particular who would love to meet you, given her interest in legal dramas. She’s smart and beautiful, generous beyond belief, has an eye for detail like you, and if you think a mare can’t turn a human head, wait until you see her! —“The Attorney” PS: Sorry to steal your spotlight here at the end, Five Stars, but I thought this was something worth sharing. He’s my friend, and his attitude is very similar to others I’ve heard, so in answering him, I answer the others as well. And besides, even when I was still in practice I never missed a chance to tease him publicly! So why should I stop now? I think I can safely speak for Five Stars when I say she would more than approve, “Nick.” Like her, I very much look forward to seeing how things develop between you and your final client, and please keep in touch in the months and years ahead! You and Judy will be missed, not just by Five Stars but by all of us. And if you ever need assistance, either here or on Earth, just let us know. As Five Stars has already departed, I guess the final word falls to me, then. I’ve been content, for the most part, to let Five Stars reap the fame and glory of this series, and it’s been well-earned. Gentleman for Mares would not have come into being without her, and she would not have been in the right place at the right time had it not been for all her experiences, all her friends and lovers, both made and lost over the years. They forged her into the pony she became, and she has said both in these pages and to me personally that she regrets little about her life and what brought her to this point, save her treatment of Miral. She is one of the finest mares I’ve ever met, one who has touched many lives and continues to do so. Her still-growing legacy is in not just the G4M company, but in every mare who has found love and companionship who lacked it before, in every stallion who realized he could do better after reading these articles, and for every man who came to us through not just her, but all recruiters now. She was my catalyst; my selected agent to bring about change to Equestrian society, and I no longer think it premature to say that change has been realized. What she and G4M have brought about cannot be undone, no matter how badly the neighsayers may wish it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have my own holiday plans, as do many of our Gentlemen. Five Stars left days ago, and she may yet choose to detail her trip in a bonus article. But that I leave to her. She has earned her leave, and it’s a testament to all she’s done for us that we can now operate without issue in her absence. Where is she? As always, you won’t know until she says so herself. Until then… on behalf of Five Stars, the entire G4M staff, the mares they serve and myself, this is Platinum Corona, founder of Gentleman for Mares… signing off!