> Misunderstanding of Misdirection > by Some Leech > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Disappearing Act > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Starlight Glimmer cheerfully hummed to herself, as she trotted through the cool spring air. It was a Friday, she’d finished her shift at the School of Friendship, and she was planning on getting some quality time with her friend, Trixie. While it may have been a bit impetuous, since they weren’t technically in any sort of relationship, she’d even picked up a pizza for her best buddy. She’d originally told Trixie she was going to show up at the wagon around six, but a fire drill and an appearance from Discord had allowed all the faculty and students to finish up the school day slightly earlier than usual - as such, she was running ahead of schedule. After acquiring up a steaming hot pie, she headed to the outskirts of town and towards the magician’s makeshift camp/show site. For all of Trixie’s shortcomings, having poor decision making skills, next to no capacity of forethought, and an egregious misunderstanding of basic anatomy, she was actually pretty nice - oh and she had an insanely big cock. Glimmer still couldn’t put her hoof on why, but her buddy was obscenely hung. From what she could determine, Trixie had assumed most or all mares had a dick, keeping it hidden while out and about, but that only raised further questions; how she’d gone all her life without realizing how absurd the notion was, or how she was able to conceal the prodigious package so flawlessly, was an absolute mystery. In the end, the perplexing revelation hadn’t really changed anything, aside from the fact that’d become friends with benefits. Trotting along, spying her buddy’s wagon off in the distance, her pace quickened - that was, until she noticed the little carriage rocking slightly. She didn’t see the little blue unicorn anywhere, nor were there any signs of a show being performed, which made her a bit uneasy. Glowing to herself, keeping the pizza levitating at her side, she broke into a gallop. “Trixie?” she shouted, dashing to the wagon’s door. “Trixie are -” “Oh sweet Celestia - Aaaaaahn!” an unfamiliar voice screamed, as the wheeled vehicle energetically swayed from side to side. Be darned if Glimmer knew what was happening, but she was sure as heck about to find out. Trying the doorknob, finding it locked, she sent power flowing into her horn. If something was wrong, she wasn’t about to let some flimsy door stop her. As a piercing howl cut through the air, she sent eldritch power flaring through her horn, blasted the timber asunder, and leapt inside. “What the hay are you doing to my…” The words died in her throat, as the smoke cleared. Splintered wood and bits of debris lay scattered within the camper’s interior, but that wasn’t what caught her eye. At the far end of the cramped chamber, with her blue hips pressed against Mayor Mare’s backside, stood Trixie. Glimmer shook her head, praying she was seeing things, but the vision didn’t fade. She’d stumbled in on her friend balls deep in the senior city official - a city official who appeared to have climaxed so hard she’d blacked out. “What are you doing?” Trixie hissed, apathetically hauling her rigid length from the incapacitated mare. “What are you doing?” Glimmer quietly shot back, somehow confused, angry, and aroused by the scandalous sight. “What does it look like? I’m trying to finish my show!” the magician whispered. Spotting the floating, nearly unscathed pizza, her irritation ebbed. “Is that for me?” “I…” Glimmer sputtered, doing her darnedest to wrap her head around everything that was happening. “Outside…” Wheeling around, seeing herself away from the debaucherous scene, she shook her head. What she’d presumed had been the distraught noises of her friend had been anything but, leaving her bewildered and, if she was being honest with herself, a bit horny. While she genuinely couldn’t say what had been going on, she had every intention of finding out. “I hope you know, you’ll be replacing my door and any merchandise you damaged,” Trixie groused, strutting by and casually plucking the levitating pie from the air. As she sat the box beside her fire pit, helping herself to a slice, she turned to face her companion. Pinching the bridge of her snout with a forehoof, Glimmer clamped her eyes shut. “Please tell me what I walked in on…” The magician cocked her head, giving herself a moment to chew and swallow a mouthful of pizza. “What did it look like? I was holding one of my private shows!” she chuckled, as if that explained everything perfectly. Glimmer was fully aware that her friend wasn’t what anypony would describe as an intellectual titan, so she bit back her frustration, drew a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. The mention of ‘one of’ immediately raised several red flags, heaping more questions and concerns onto the awkward situation, but she realized she’d have to start at the bottom. Taking a seat beside her friend, she magically retrieved a piece of pizza for herself. “And are your private shows always like that?” she inquired, keeping her tone calm and even. “Yeah, for the most part. I mean, I might mix up positions sometimes, but they’re usually pretty loud - that’s why I hold them after my usual performances,” Trixie smugly proclaimed. “Wait,” Glimmer croaked, nearly choking on a mushroom, “do mares pay you to fuck them?” “Not all the time! Sometimes they’ll give me something in exchange for it, like cupcakes or free food, so that’s always an option. Mares will occasionally want to ride me or have me rut their butt - heck, I’ve even had a few give me bits just so they could suck me off!” the little magician giggled. The admission left Glimmer speechless. Trixie really wasn’t a bad pony - far from it, in fact - but she would have never fathomed that the performer would stoop to prostitution. While her magic acts hadn’t been bringing in bits like they once had, with everypony in Ponyville having seen the performances a hoofful of times, she couldn’t have anticipated the innocent, albeit somewhat dimwitted dickmare would lower herself to such an unseemly profession. Composing herself, with one piece of the puzzle in place, she chose her words carefully. “So exactly how long has this been going on?” Trixie moved the slice of pie away from her face, before thoughtfully rubbing her chin. “Maybe a month?” Glimmer squinted, surprised that such unscrupulous activities had slipped by her for so long. “Mind if I ask how you got started with your - Ahem - private acts?” The magician held up a hoof, gnawing at the crust of her pizza. “Well after we had our first experience, I went and spoke to Twilight. She said -” “Lemme guess,” the reformed villain sighed, predicting the outcome, “she said that, no, mares don’t usually have stallionhoods.” “That’s right, she did!” Trixie exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear. “After that, she insisted on having a look at it.” “And you showed it to her, didn’t you?” Glimmer murmured. “Mmmhmm - I sure did! It was a little uncomfortable, showing myself off like that, but she said it was for science,” the illusionist continued, her expression shifting to one of confusion. “I’m not sure what sort of experiment she was doing, sucking me off and masturbating like a filly in heat, but she ended up paying me for my time.” “Oh Twilight,” Glimmer groaned, facehoofing. “To be fair, it wasn’t just Twilight. A few days later, Rarity showed up and asked for a private performance. After really giving it to her, she gave me a sack of bits and a ten-percent discount coupon for the Carousel Boutique!” Trixie laughed. Nodding to a stump, not a dozen paces away, she grinned. “I plowed her right there, as a matter of fact!” “Just how many mares have you plowed?” the increasingly frustrated guidance counselor blurted. “Hmmmm,” Trixie hummed, knitting her brow and staring at the ground. “Maybe twenty or so? I don’t really keep track or anything, but I do know that I’ve already gotten a few regulars. Mayor Mare and Ms. Cheerilee have been coming once a week since I started and, lemme tell ya, the good mayor really likes it rough.” “I can believe my best friend is a whore,” Glimmer sullenly remarked, hanging her head. “Awwwwww!” the magician exclaimed, wrapping her buddy in a hug. “I didn’t know I was your best - wait a minute,” she bleated, shoving her companion away, “I’m not a whore!” Screwing her eyes shut, while she steadily rubbed her temples, Glimmer did her level best not to have an aneurysm. “Trixie, do you know what a whore is?” “Of course I do, I’m not stupid!” Trixie rebuked, petulantly crossing her forelegs over her chest. “Whores wear slutty outfits, hang out on street corners, and have a pimp. I don’t have any of those things!” “Ok, let me see if I can unpack this for you,” Glimmer grunted. “Whores are ponies who exchange sex for bits, regardless of what they wear, where they work, or if they have a pimp or not.” “Glimmer, buddy, I’m a performer. Do I look like the type of mare who’d do something so scandalous?” the illusionist snickered. The counselor’s frown deepened, hearing the nonsensical response. She knew her friend wasn’t the sharpest butter knife in the drawer, but there was no possible way the delusional dickmare was that dumb. “So you just happened to be balls deep an elected official of Ponyville?” “I mean, yeah, I was, but that’s a key part of the act,” Trixie remarked, fetching another slice of pizza for herself. “I’ll break it down for you. Mares pay me to perform a special disappearing act with them, I provide my service, then they leave. Do you know what the disappearing act involves?” Glimmer could almost feel a blood vessel blow in her neocortex, as she held up a hoof to stop the unneeded and wholly unwanted explanation. “Trixie, I don’t -” “It’s my penis,” the magician snickered, playfully elbowing her friend’s side. “I make my penis disappear in them. Over and over and over and -” “Oooooookay, I think that’s enough of that!” Glimmer interrupted, hopping from her makeshift chair. “I seriously can’t believe you! You’re been turning tricks, pun intended, for nearly half the mares in town!” Trixie reared back, askance, and held a hoof to her chest. With her mouth agape, her surprise quickly shifted into anger. “I never heard any complaints from you!” “Well I…” Glimmer faltered, unable to formulate a decent rebuttal. It was true, she’d been getting regular dickings from her buddy since she’d first learned about Trixie’s peculiar bit of extra anatomy - heck, she even looked forward to their naughty time together. She’d assumed her friend had kept everything under wraps, although that presumption had blown up in her face. Not only was she getting periodically plowed by the magician, half of the town was as well. The development was odd, to say the very least, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. On one hoof, she shouldn’t have been surprised to hear that her companion had effectively reinvented the age old profession of prostitution - on the other, some part of her was a bit saddened that she wasn’t getting exclusive rights to the illusionist’s magical meat. The entire turn of events was foolish as it was bizarre, leaving her at a loss. “And,” Trixie continued, unseating herself, “it’s not like I ever charged my best buddy for any of my services.” Glimmer felt sure that the assertion was meant to be uplifting, but it somehow made her feel even worse than she already was. She was best friends with a possibly mentally handicapped hooker, a hooker she routinely got screwed by, and she’d really rather not consider herself lumped in with the other thirsty mares in town. Shaking her head, trying and failing to think of what to say, a clatter from the wagon drew her attention away. “G...goodness - Cough - me, that was amazing,” Mayor Mare croaked, unsteadily stumbling out of the camper. Completely missing the first step, faceplanting into the dirt, she unceremoniously got to her hooves and dusted herself off. “I left your bits in your hammock. Same time Monday?” “Yes Ma’am!” Trixie cheerfully chirped, waving a hoof at the cum-drunk pony. “By the way, I love the little pink landing strip!” Too euphoric to care about the second unicorn’s presence, or perhaps simply missing the awestruck interloper, the Mayor nodded and stumbled away. Glimmer wasn’t sure where or how to pick up the conversation. Pink landing strip? Next Monday? It was all too much too fast, especially after walking in on her friend doing the do with a senior citizen. Seeing the mayor shamble away, erratically listing to one side or the other, she bit her lip. Truth be told, she’d been hoping to get a bit of hanky-panky from her buddy that evening - after they’d enjoyed a meal and visited for a bit, of course. There was no denying that a certain part of herself was jealous and turned on by the discovery that her friend was a whore, though that was countered by her shock of it all. “So you wanna...Hmmhmmhmm,” Trixie haughtily chuckled, walking up behind the stricken mare. “I think I see why you blew in my door.” A loud, meaty slap sent a shiver up Glimmer’s spine, cutting her off from anything she’d been about to say. She’d heard the noise before, more times than she cared to admit, and there was only one thing in the area that could produce such a distinct sound. Pursing her lips, promising herself that she wouldn’t look to her buddy’s groin, she leered over at the magician turned hooker. “You know,” the magician purred, pressing her body to her friend’s side, “I wouldn’t mind finishing up with some dessert.” Slowly, almost sensually, she brought her muzzle to the mare’s ear. “That means I haven’t c-” “Fine,” Glimmer huffed. Stooping low, taking her friend’s forehoof in her own, she stomped towards the wagon’s blasted entrance. While the circumstances were less than ideal, she really couldn’t think of a valid reason why she shouldn’t get a little action. Trixie clearly hadn’t meant any harm, and was too stupid to know better, so arguing with her wouldn’t accomplish much of anything; at best, she’d end up ticking off her friend - at worst, she may risk never getting an easy lay from the bedicked magician. Pulling the well-hung entertainer behind, a jarring thought occurred. “Wait,” she grumbled, stopping in her tracks and turning to face her companion, “you’re not going to start charging me for - uh - our special time, are you?” “Of course not - then gain, you do usually bring snacks, food, or drinks for us,” Trixie mused. “In a way, I guess you could say that you’ve been paying for it all along!” Glimmer’s shoulder’s wilted, as the crushing weight of realization settled upon her. She was a John, just like the various other mares who’d visited the magician for her salacious services; the only difference was that she’d inadvertently bartered for nookie, in lieu of paying hard bits. Utterly defeated, hoping that the impending influx of serotonin and dopamine would dull the existential pain, she continued up the stairs, through the splintered doorway, and to the cleared, slightly dampened crate. “By the way,” she began, placing releasing her friend’s forehoof, “just how much do you charge?” Trixie beamed from ear to ear, proudly holding a hoof to her chest. “The great and sensual Trixie charges ponies three bits for her servi-” “Three bits?!” Glimmer croaked, taken aback by the ludicrously low price. “Why in the hay are you selling yourself for just three measly bits?!?” The magician shrugged, seemingly confused by the outburst. “It just seemed like a fair price to me. If I charge five bits for an ordinary show, which lasts half an hour and costs me about ten bits worth of materials, I figured three bits was fair for a bit of…” she trailed off, humping the air. “But that’s insane?!” the guidance counselor lamented, all the more wounded by how obscenely cheap the service was. “Is it insane? Think about it,” Trixie conspiratorially whispered, resting a foreleg around her friend’s neck. “It usually takes less than ten minutes, I don’t use any of my supplies, and I get a little bit of stress relief! The way I see it, it’s an absolute win!” “I...I mean…” Glimmer stammered, “you’re not wrong, but you should still up your price.” She’d have to readdress the issue with her friend at some point, if purely from a business perspective. Heck - if the dickmare only doubled her rates, she could afford several much needed improvements for her wagon or, if properly convinced, a new mobile home entirely. If Trixie was insistent on continuing her dubious business, she should be adequately compensated for her services. “Well excuse me for not being up to date on private disappearing acts!” the magician muttered. “Anyways, are we gonna stand here and fuss about this or are we gonna…” “Fine,” Glimmer lamented, getting into position. “We can talk about this after -” “After I leave my best buddy satisfied?” Trixie quipped, waggling her eyebrows at the presenting mare. “Yes, Trixie, after we’re both satisfied…”