Vinyl Scratch goes down on senior citizens of ponyville (incomplete)


                                            >Vinyl Scratch walked out to the corner on hoofton and bridlesen avenue and looked around.

                                            >She didn't want to stand out at all, and tried to look casual, hoping she was pulling it off, and didn't look like, well, a whore.

                                            >Her drug problem had put her in a tight spot for money again, so she was putting up the red light again.

                                            >Her clients were unwilling to divulge much of anything about themselves, but offered a lot of money on arrival.

                                            >A bit worrisome, but not uncommon in the business.

                                            >She was told to be picked up here.

                                            >An unassuming wagon pulled up, its young driver stallions wearing blinders, and did not look sideways to see her, just stopped and stared forward.

                                            >An elderly old stallion opened the door for her.

                                            >She worried deeply for a moment, before assuring herself he was just the coachpony.

                                            >Prostitutes obviously couldn't be picky about their clients, but she still held out hope he wouldn't be too unbearable to look at and work with.

                                            >She stepped in, greeting him and getting aboard before the coach started moving.

                                            >“You're quite a good looker. How long you been in the business?”

                                            >“Oh, on and off about three years.”

                                            >“Ah, very young. Not like us.”, he laughed.

                                            >He said “us” instead of “me”. That didn't seem like a good sign to Vinyl. She shrugged it off.

                                            >They went a few blocks and entered a gate and pulled around the back of a stately mansion, none other than the Rich's estate.

                                            >“Oh, Hey, I know this place.” Vinyl said.

                                            >“Yes, it's a small town.”

                                            >“Filthy needs some fire in his life, huh? Is Spoiled out of town?”

                                            >“They're all out of town. Your client that arranged all this for his friends is one of the housekeeping staff. The Riches don't know. And you must maintain absolute secrecy about this.”

                                            >“Okay, okay, we're good on that, it's all good, I promise.”

                                            >They enter through a back entryway, and Vinyl is greeted by an old, familiar light green mare.

                                            >“M—Mrs. Smith?”

                                            >“Vinyl Scratch? Oh my... Damn small town! Oh well, time to put aside yer social stigmas, Lil' Scratchy, because I might be yer bible study group teacher on Sundays, but tonight yer gonna be our little slut.”

                                            >“Er-- y-yes Mrs. Smith...”

                                            >“It's Mistress Smith to you, Vinyl Slut.”

                                            TO BE CONTINUED