Show Me Who You Really Are
The “Sugar Shack” was quite possibly the worst kept secret in Ponyville; everypony knew about it and, sure, it may skirt a few zoning laws but nopony openly discussed it in public. In reality, it was just the Hay Burger, re-purposed into a strip joint since nopony was really willing to build one of those in town. That being said, every Friday night, well after the sun had set, the curtains were drawn and the establishment became the “Sugar Shack”, Ponyville’s premier adult entertainment bar and lounge. Cider flowed freely for the bawdy shows within as stallions and mares alike came to relax and get an eye full. Now, the citizens of Equestria were a rather laid back lot when it came to shows of this sort; all manner of talent would take to the stage and perform for the crowds, those who weren’t interested in a particular dancer merely conversed or busied themselves in other ways. Sometimes entertainers would travel from quite a ways to put on a show while others were residents of town who would disguise themselves or simply got their kicks by getting on stage; either way, there was always someone to watch. One of the crowd favorites was none other than Spike who, having recently become a tutor at Twilight’s school after his eighteenth birthday, performed under the stage name Aurora Blaze.
The dragon’s figure had blossomed rather well with age. Slightly shorter than most stallions, his small frame was surprisingly graceful in comparison to the days of his youth. The only telltale reminder of his rather squat and rounded years as a kid was his curvaceous posterior along with his shapely thighs and tail. Spike’s violet hide, with supple creamy lime underbelly, covered his toned yet slender physique and the pair of elegant draconic wings on his back. His eyes, a piercing yet alluring emerald, were often heavily lidded and profoundly captivating. Atop his head, and trailing down his back to the tip of his tail, sat a series of shamrock green dorsal plates which were surprisingly pliable. He really didn’t need the extra cash his shows afforded and, in truth, lived rather comfortably. No, Spike’s motivation was altogether more self serving; the shouts of adoration and catcalls were his payment, the hungry eyes and lustful gazes his praise as he danced. As soon as he stepped onto the stage he stopped being Spike and started being Aurora Blaze, and avatar of seduction and temptation incarnate.
~
Spike breathed, stepping into the metallic pink thong and sliding it up and over his legs. Reaching over, he doused his hands in scented lotion before massaging it over his exposed flesh; leaving his body glistening and slick in the dim light of the changing room. Looking over at a nearby clothing rack, he paused as he browsed the various outfits and accoutrements. He grinned to himself, fetching a pair of tear away jeans, white sleeveless t-shirt, and leather jacket. Donning the apparel, and concealing his wings in the process, he appraised himself in one of the mirrors lining the room; something was missing. Casually strolling over to a props bin, he rummaged about for a moment before producing a pair of dark wrap around sunglasses with a rainbow anodized finish.
The music, a dull background thumping of bass heavy electronic tunes this evening, dimmed slightly as a voice boomed. “Let’s give it up for Luster Dust everypony,” the announcer called as the crowd resonated with adulation and cheers. A heavily muscled stallion with a white mane and a grey coat walked through the curtain and nodded to Spike as he passed. Wearing a sapphire jockstrap, which barely contained the prodigious equine equipment Luster sported, and little else, the stallion went to his locker to change. Spike had seen Luster around once or twice but didn’t really know the guy other than that he was quite a crowd pleaser when it came to older mares. “And now let’s hear it for our next entertainer. You know him, you love him, so everyone put your hooves together for Aurora Blaze!” the announcer exclaimed followed by expectant hoops and shouts from the assembly. ‘Showtime,’ Spike thought, donning the sunglasses and walking through the curtain.
The stage was a slightly raised “T” pattern with two poles affixed to it and the ceiling; one at the junction and the other at the end of the main runway. The majority of the floor space in the Hay Burger was cleared to make room for the platform although it was surrounded by tables and chairs for customers. The kitchen and employee lounge were curtained off to make an ad hoc changing area for the entertainers while the cashier’s counter was used as a DJ booth. Sure, it wasn’t exactly a professional setup but, for a little town like Ponyville, it wasn’t half bad.
The lights dimmed, and a magical fog machine kicked in, as Aurora burst forth; strutting out and directly down the runways like a man on a mission. He hadn’t made it two steps out when the DJ, Vinyl Scratch, laid down a beat. Reaching the poll, Aurora leaned against it, crossing his feat and surveying the hushed crowd. Rolling his head back, and resting it against the poll, Aurora ran one clawed digit up the front of his jacket before pulling it open and arching his back, exposing the tight shirt beneath as he began his show. The mob erupted as he began to move, spinning around the pole with one hand as he shrugged his shoulders backward, allowing the jacket to begin creeping off his torso. Screeching to a halt, while facing the throng of onlookers; Aurora lowered his head, looking at the crowd over the rim of his glasses, before slipping one arm from the jacket and allowing it to drape freely down the other. Dropping it to the floor, the dragon reached back, hands over his head, and grasped the pole. With glacial speed he squatted down to his haunches, rolling his head back as he brought one hand creeping down his chest to the button of his pants.
The congregation cheered and the music boomed in the dim light of the club but Aurora didn’t pay attention to any of it; too engrossed in his routine and allowing the cries of joy and elation to wash over him. This show wasn’t for them, it was a for himself. The lustful stares were supplication, their howls were prayers. They loved him and they wanted him. Nothing in the world could compare to such longing and desire.
The music’s tempo immediately shifted as Aurora bolted upright; the thumb of each hand hitched in his pants as he rested against the metal beam. Just as a throbbing bassline began, the dragon ripped off his tearaway pants and threw them to the elated hoard. Hopping up, he grabbed the pole and, locking one knee around it, released his hands while leaning back into the air. Casually, he discarded his glasses as he scanned the faces of those gathered, licking his lips wolfishly in the process. As he tipped further and further back, he looked down his body and exhaled a small gout of jade flame; incinerating the shirt off his chest and allowing the embers to drift to the stage below. His wings, neatly concealed until this point, erupted forth in spectacular fashion.
Everypony present went wild, screaming in glee as the dragon’s show continued. Everyone except for one stallion sitting in the corner. It wasn’t hard for Aurora to noticed him, considering he was the only one who didn’t seem to be enjoying himself but he wasn’t going to let one dour pony ruin his evening.
Clutching the pole, Aurora pulled himself forward as he ground his bulging thong against it; spinning around metal rod once before launching himself to the edge of the stage on his knees. One hand behind his head, as the other crept down his naked chest and abdomen, Aurora moaned as his fingers slipped under the fabric of the undergarment. The dragon then slowly stood, twirling in place before marching back to the slim metal pillar. With his back to the throng, he seized the pole with one hand and lazily spun himself as he raised one leg; hugging it to his chest in a near perfect split. Executing a one-eighty, and using his tail to help keep balance, he presented his rear to the masses before reaching back to slap one ample cheek.
His moves began to bleed together as his motions flowed. As the song droned on, his flesh glistening with sweat under the dim lights as his routine drew to a close. “Everypony show Aurora some love for that absolutely magnificent performance!” the announcer shouted, drawing reinvigorated cheers from the crowd as the dragon retreated backstage. Fetching a towel, Spike dried off. His heart was still pounding as he looked in the mirror, appreciating his slim yet slightly effeminate form. The sound of someone clearing their throat made Spike turn; standing in the doorway was the stallion who’d sat unmoved in the corner during his performance. His eyes widened in surprise as he realized it was Filthy Rich. The stallion was wearing a suit and tie as he patiently stood, awaiting a response.
“Mr. Rich, how can I help you?” Spike asked, turning to address the stallion.
“Quite the show you put on out there, I was rather impressed with the little pyrotechnic bit you mixed in,” Filthy said, taking a step forward.
“Thanks,” Spike replied with a smile, “that’s a fan favorite. What brings you back here though? Most of the time it’s for the entertainers only.” It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Filthy had probably bribed his way backstage but, even if he didn’t, most people would be reluctant to challenge a request from one of the richest ponies in town.
“Well Spike, I’d like to know if you’d be willing to put on a private show. Of course you’d be handsomely compensated if you chose to,” Filthy casually responded.
“Oh? Well, I’ve been asked to do private shows before so, sure. Who’d it be for?” Spike pressed, sipping a water bottle as he leaned against the counter.
“Just myself,” Filthy flatly replied.
“I didn’t think you were into this kinda thing,” Spike commented with a slight chuckle, leaning back and allowing one hand to glide down his bare chest to his crotch.
“Y...yes, well,” Filthy stammered, straightening his tie, “Spoiled brought Diamond to visit her family and I could use some stress relief.” The stallion sighed, deflating a bit with a weary look on his face. “Spoiled isn’t nearly as energetic in the bedroom as she used to be,” he lamented. “I’m a stallion with needs so I figured ‘why not’. After all, Spoiled said it was fine as long as…”
“Ssssssssh,” Spike said, pressing one finger to his lips. He’d heard enough. The fact that Filthy, of all stallions, wanted a show had his curiosity piqued. Spike had always assumed the stallion was as straight as they come but this seemed to indicate otherwise. “You have any requests?” the dragon asked.
“I’d actually hoped you’d ask,” Filthy said, picking up a box at his feet which Spike hadn’t noticed earlier. “If you could wear this it’d be perfect and, please, feel free to keep it if you like. I’ll be heading home shortly so if you’d like to come by in the next hour or so that’d be perfect,” he continued, squaring his shoulders and preparing to leave.
“I’ll be there shortly, just need to make a few preparations,” Spike cooed, giving Filthy a wink and causing the stallion to blush slightly.
“R...right. See you shortly,” Filthy mumbled, clearly flustered as he exited the room.
Spike waited until he was gone to open the box. A grin crept across his face as he examined its contents. ‘Oh this is going to be so much fun,’ he thought as he stuffed everything back inside and gathered his things. He was going to give Filthy a night to remember.
~
An Hour Later
~
Filthy lounged in his recliner, taking a sip from a glass of cognac to calm his nerves before shakily setting it down. He could scarcely believe he’d gone through with it. He’d always had a passing interest in certain guys but he’d never acted on it; yet here he was, a married man having asked a curvy male stripper over to give him a private show. A sudden knock at the door caused him to start. Getting up, he made his way to the front of the house to see who it was. Peering through the peephole Filthy noticed it was Spike. Turning the lock, he opened the door.
“I see you found your way here alright?” Filthy nervously asked, smiling anxiously. The dragon wore a long coat which completely covered his figure, most likely because it had just started to drizzle outside. The weather was supposed to take a turn at some point this evening as a storm rolled in.
“So,” Spike said, poking his head inside and looking around before looking up to Filthy, “you gonna invite me in or would you rather we do this right here?”
Filthy gulped and stepped aside, waving the dragon in. “P...please come on in, we can go to my study if that’s alright,” he sputtered.
Spike looked around as he entered the house, admiring the elegant decor as he walked into the foyer. “Nice place,” he commented.
“Thanks,” Filthy replied, rubbing the back of his neck before gesturing down a hallway, “it’s right down here.” He casually walked towards the cozy study as Spike followed. As they entered, the dragon seemed to appraise the room; nodding to himself as he noticed the cushioned recliner.
“Alright,” the dragon said, pointing to the leather chair, “how about you have a seat right there.”
“O...ok,” Filthy blurted, seating himself and looking rather rigidly.
“No, no, no,” Spike chuckled, walking over and pressing the stallion back into the chair, “just relax. Trust me, you’re in good claws.” Filthy nodded, easing himself back before reaching for his glass to take another sip. Spike took a few steps away from Filthy before looking over his shoulder at the stallion. “Close your eyes for a second,” he said. The stallion complied, closing his eyes and fidgeting a bit in his seat. Spike undid the buttons of the coat, retrieving the last piece of his outfit from an interior pocket and placing it on his head before allowing the garment to fall to the floor. “Alright big boy, have a look,” the dragon cooed.
Filthy opened his eyes and his jaw nearly hit the floor. The dragon was wearing a pair of black and white striped panties with matching leggings and arm socks, each of which was adorned with white bows. A black cloth choker with tiny bell was fastened around his neck and a pair of novelty cat ears lay atop his head. Besides the outfit the dragon was bare, his delicate purple skin and supple underbelly left fully exposed. Spike, facing him at an angle, folded his arms before his chest like a feline while he posed his hands like a pair of paws. He could already feel himself growing hard as he looked at the dragon.
“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” Spike chuckled, cocking his hip as he faced the stallion. “Now just enjoy the show ‘hon,” he purred, sinking to his knees and arching back while his tail curled around to caress his thighs and hips.
Filthy hadn’t noticed it at first but a bell was wrapped around the end of Spike’s tail. He swallowed hard as the dragon began to move. After stretching backward, Spike reversed course; curling forward onto his hands and knees and turning in a circle. Once he was facing away from Filthy, he crawled forward onto his chest while raising his hips and presenting his rump; his tail snaking across his calves and gliding up his thighs to his cushiony rear. He shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable given the erection he was sporting.
Spike took notice of the stallion’s discomfort and, being the seasoned entertainer that he was, chose that moment to progress his act. Turning around, he crawled forward on all fours to bring his muzzle between Filthy’s knees before looking up at the stallion with a mischievous glint in his eye. Placing his hands on the arms of the chair, just over the stallion’s, the dragon crept forward; dragging his chest along the top of Filthy’s thighs, crotch, and finally his pectorals. He looked the stallion in the eyes as his head moved forward, nuzzling Filthy’s neck before angling upward and breathing heavily into his ear. Spike could feel Filthy’s hands start to move below his own so he pressed down against them. “No touching ‘hon,” he giggled, licking the stallion’s ear as he continued his art.
The stallion wriggled a bit as the dragon toyed with him, his boner painfully pressing against his pants as he grew more and more excited.
Feeling something rigid inside Filthy’s trousers, Spike withdrew a bit. “You know,” he murmured, “I can give you a little room if it would be more convenient for you.”
Filthy nodded a bit and blushed, watching as the dragon eased himself back to a standing position. The two looked at each other for a moment, Spike with an expectant expression while the stallion appeared anxious and abashed. He wasn’t sure what to do but, by Celestia, his erection was almost painfully hard against the fabric of his pants.
“Here,” Spike said, leaning forward and brushing his muzzle against Filthy’s crotch, “let me help.” With one hand, he undid the button of the stallion’s trousers before taking the zipper in his teeth and pulling it down. Filthy’s turgid rod practically sprang free, mere inches from Spike’s face. “Such a big boy,” the dragon cooed, breathing heavily upon the pony’s equipment. In truth he’d seen bigger but it was still impressive, especially for an older stallion. His draconic member was already beginning to tent his panties, his own arousal heightened by just how much Filthy was enjoying his act.
The stallion watched as the dragon stood back up and turned away from him, bending over as he began to removed his striped underwear. Painfully slowly, the dragon tugged the panties over his succulent ass and down his legs. Once the garment was on the floor, Spike ran his hands up the back of his legs, resting one on each cheek of his rump before pulling them apart to expose the delicate pucker within while he moaned quietly. His hand crept to his cock as he started stroking himself at the sight.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Spike tutted, gently grabbing Filthy’s wrist and ceasing his masturbatory efforts, “I said no touching.”
“I...I can’t help it,” Filthy stammered, looking pitiably at Spike.
“Sorry ‘hon, it’s the rules,” Spike said, shrugging as he turned back to face the stallion. “Besides,” he said softly, “I’m sure you’d prefer something else.” Placing Filthy’s hand back on the arm rest, the dragon spread the stallion’s legs and sunk to his knees between them. Gently seizing Filthy’s shaft, Spike angled it towards his face as he craned his neck forward. Parting his lips, his dexterous tongue flicked out and traced around the sensitive head of Filthy’s cock as he drew it into his mouth.
“Mmmmm,” Filthy groaned, looking down as Spike eased more of his length into this throat. The dragon was exceptionally skilled, twisting his head slightly back and forth as he fellated the stallion. His mouth was markedly hotter than a ponies as well, most likely an inherent draconic trait. Filthy could feel himself bump against the back of Spike’s throat and watched with awe as he took a breath and pressed forward, hilting him deep in the dragon’s maw.
Spike wrapped his tongue around Filthy’s length as he continued, squeezing and massaging the pony’s member as it delved into his airway. Keeping one hand Filthy’s waist, Spike brought the other back and under his tail; where he quickly started fingering himself. He’d had the forethought to clean and pre-lube himself before heading over and, to be completely honest, blowing an older stallion was just fucking hot; especially a stallion who, until earlier this evening, he could have sworn wasn’t interested in guys. Knowing he’d gotten Filthy this excited really got his fire burning. Needing a breath, Spike eased the fat rod of pony meat out of his throat; kissing it’s blunt tip as he wrapped his fingers around its base.
“Why’d you stop?” Filthy blurted, a look of disappointment on his face as he looked down at Spike.
Wordlessly, Spike stood and turned around; setting his hands on Filthy’s knees as he gingerly eased his rump onto the stallion’s shaft. The log of flesh, slick with saliva, ground between the dragon’s supple buns. “Wouldn’t you rather finish balls deep in my ass?” Spike purred, licking the pony’s pre from his lips as he eyed Filthy. The stallion nodded vigorously as his member throbbed between the dragon’s warm and pillowy cheeks. “Hmmm,” Spike hummed, standing and turning back around to face Filthy. Hitching one leg up and over an arm of the chair, Spike quickly did likewise with his other leg. Now straddling the stallion, he continued to grind himself against Filthy’s prick.
“Please Spike,” Filthy pleaded, “I need this.”
“So cute,” Spike murmured, reaching back and guiding Filthy to his entrance. The stallion’s bloated head popped into his pucker with little effort, causing him to sigh contentedly as he rocked back and slid more of Filthy’s length into himself. “Now,” he continued, placing Filthy’s hands on his soft and wide hips, “rut me you stud.”
Filthy didn’t need to be asked a second time, digging his fingers into Spike’s haunches and thrusting upward. He watched as Spike’s head rolled backward, moaning whorishly, as he was plowed. It didn’t take long for the dragon to reciprocate his actions, bouncing atop the stallion as his reptilian package waggled in the air; truthfully, it didn’t even bother Filthy and was actually kind of hot to see the dragon’s vividly pink member rhythmically swaying with their movements. The only sounds in the room were those of heavy breathing and moistened flesh on flesh. Filthy could swear that every time his medial ring passed out of Spike’s entrance the dragon would clamp down, almost like he was enjoying this as much as himself. He knew he wasn’t going to last terribly long at this rate so his thrusts transitioned from long and deep to short and brutal.
“Yes,” Spike squealed, “fuck me! Fill me up!” He’d always had a profound weakness for pony dick; something about the girthy length and shape always hit just the right spots. Not to mention the immense satisfaction of how stallions would leave him leaking cum.
Noticing Spike’s member leaking a steady stream of pre, Filthy reached down and grabbed the dragonic member in one hand. Placing his thumb just below the head of Spike’s shaft, he used the gooey fluid as lube to knead and massage the sensitive area as he gave the dragon a handjob. Always the gentleman, Filthy thought that it was only right to help the dragon get off while riding him.
Feeling Filthy’s fingers around his dick made Spike’s eyes roll back and tailhole clench. He hadn’t expected the stallion would get that into the experience but was certainly pleased with this turn of events. Feeling Filthy throbbing deep in his ass, and with an orgasm of his own imminent, Spike knew the perfect finishing touch for the situation. Bringing himself forward, he wrapped his hands around Filthy’s head and locked lips with the stallion; jamming is tongue into the pony’s mouth as he slammed his rump down while viciously clenching upon the pony’s shaft.
Filthy’s mind reeled as the dragon’s tongue warred with his own. The raw lust and exquisite pleasure of the moment pushing him over the edge and causing him to blow his load into Spike. He could feel, more than see, Spike doing likewise as hot and sticky seed erupted from the dragon, coating his hand and abdomen in the process. Their muzzles entwined, the two moaned in ecstasy as they passionately kissed. They stayed like that, Filthy’s hips fitfully twitching and Spike’s pucker convulsing around the stallionhood buried in it, as they rode out their orgasmic bliss. Eventually their faces parted as Spike rested his head on Filthy’s shoulder, panting as he fought to catch his breath.
“You want a drink,” Filthy asked, fully spent as he reclined.
“I might get one for the road,” Spike said, licking some sweat from Filthy’s neck as the stallion’s softening member slid from his abused hole. Slowly, he got to his feet.
“Leaving already? Don’t you want to clean up first?” Filthy inquired, a bit surprised that Spike was so ready to leave so quickly.
“Got a remedial class to teach tomorrow,” Spike replied, gathering up the panties and removing the cat ears from his head, “and I know if I stay I wouldn’t be getting much sleep.”
Filthy blushed and averted his gaze, the dragon wasn’t wrong with his assertion. “Well, let me get your bits before you go,” he said, reaching for his coin purse on a nearby table as he retrieved his glass of cognac.
“Don’t worry about it,” Spike responded, donning his coat and plucking the glass from Filthy’s hand before downing its contents, “first time is always free.”
“And let me guess,” Filthy chuckled, his entrepreneurial sense creeping to the fore, “that’s because you know you’ll be getting more of my business?”
“You got it ‘hon,” Spike purred, handing the stallion the empty glass with a wink. “You know where to find me next time you’re feeling lonely handsome,” he said, waving as he made his leave.
Filthy just smiled and shook his head. He’d need to be careful because he could certainly get used to these type of private shows.