A Curious Purple Unicorn

Surprisingly your new owner jogs onto the stage with her face down in a book. A very old book, by the looks of it. With her neat mane, slight chub and bulging saddlebags she's certainly not the type you'd expect to be in the market for your kind of services. The bookish mare finally breaks away from the yellowed pages and plonks a coinbag in Cherry's tin.

"Perfect! Just perfect! I'm Twilight Sparkle, by the way." She extends a hoof and, cautious, you shake it. "Though I'm not quite sure how I'll justify the expense. That new Bolometer will have to wait..." She's talking to herself, even with a hundred eyes on her.

Cherry's not quite sure how to react to this. She's seen some unusual clients in her time but this very unassuming and studious pony is new for her.

"S-So, how long would you like to use 'er for, hon?" She asks with that smooth honeysickle tone of hers.

"I hadn't really thought that far ahead. Hmm. Does a week sound reasonable?"

"A week it is!"

And just like that, you have yourself a new owner. Though, Twilight doesn't really strike you as the domineering type.

You follow her across town and to a quite remarkable treehouse that rests just on the fringe of the rural area. All you can do is look up at the balconies, the windows carved into the trunk and the twisted leafy boughs and note to yourself that you've never seen anything like this before. This pony actually lives in a tree? That's pretty cool.

"Come in, come in." She leads the way inside, where an almost overwhelming punch of musty book-scent envelops you. Dug into the very wood of this tree is an astonishing library, housing more books than you've ever read in your life.

It's very comfy in here, with plenty of little nooks and levels for one to read books while watching the world pass by through a window. You've certainly stayed in worse places.

"Now, the matter of why I decided to, erm, place such a high bid for you." Finally Twilight puts her book into her saddlebag and then places that on the table in the middle of the room. "I hope you don't mind, but it's for research reasons."

Research?

"You see," Twilght's horn glitters and a book comes sliding out, floating all the way down and into her awaiting hooves, "Usually my fields of research are magic and astronomy, but I've been reading some of the books from the Canterlot library restricted section and, uh..." You notice she's blushing, "I've become quite fascinated by the subject of sexual fetishes."

This is certainly new. Despite your very talent being intertwined with such things, you'd never considered them in an academic setting.

"You want me to help you with your research?"

"Something like that. When it comes to any area of investigation, personal study will only get you so far. You need to put the theory into practice if you want a nuanced understanding of your subject. I've read just about every book there is on sexual fixations and kinks, but I figured having someone with your background would really broaden my understanding. You don't mind that I ask you some questions about eproctophilia, do you?"

In a flash she unfurls a scroll and readies a quill, her face beaming with potential. You just cock a brow.

"Um... that's the technical name for a flatulence fetish. You'd be surprised at just how many fetishes there are! There is dendrophilia--a sexual fascination with trees, Melolagnia which is a fetish for music, Trichophilia for hair, and-" She can see she's lost you. "Sorry, I'm getting carried away. This is all so exciting! Tell me everything: how did your cutie mark appear? What do your services usually entail? Do you derive more pleasure from the sound of flatulence, or from the smell? Or maybe it's more the social implications that get you going?"

She goes on and on like this, and frankly you're not even sure where to begin. You were expecting an ass in your face, not this line of questioning. Once she's done pelting you with questions you just hang there with an open mouth.

"Uh... well... "

Twilight frowns. She's worried that she's gone and said something inappropriate again. That always seems to happen. After pondering for a moment, her scowl disappears and she seems to be struck by a revelation.

"Oh, my bad! You're probably waiting for me to toot on you, right? I guess it would be unfair to make you miss out on that. Hmm... hold on, I think I got something..."

One second you're trying to follow along with Twilight's babbling and the next she's flipped her little purple tush at you and backed you up against a bookshelf. This one doesn't wait around.

You put your hooves out but the **** of her rump is too much; your hooves disappear into that soft layer of fat on her cheeks. She's got you pinned against the wall, her plothole on your chest. You feel the warmth of it in your coat, and soon catch wind of her oily B.O. She can't have washed this thing lately.

Twilight puts down the quill and scroll for now, instead focusing her attention into farting for you. It's a very deliberate act, and takes a while longer than she's expecting. You're there for about half a minute listening to her grunt and watching her anus flex before finally she manages to dredge something from her bowels and flutters your fur with a deep, bubbly rip.

Doing what you do best, you crane your neck down and take a big whiff of the short but smelly release. It fills your nostrils like a thick smog, scented strongly like sweaty diapers and... sort of like stale cooking oil. Why is it always the dorky ones that have the most appalling farts?

It's bad, but not sickening or anything. You nuzzle up to her rear and keep taking a few measured sniffs. Twilight's looking back at you with a glint of curiosity in her eye.

"Fascinating! Just fascinating..." She starts scribbling something down in her scroll. "You really enjoy that, huh?"

"Enjoy isn't exactly the right word. It's more like an itch that really needs to be scratched."

That seems to baffle her somewhat, but she silently nods and takes down some more notes.

Finally that weight from her rump is lifted. She leaves you to flop to the floor and goes to call up the stairs. "Spi-ike! Could you come down here?"

Wait, there's someone else living here?

Twilight turns back to you with a sympathetic simper, "I'm afraid I don't have anything else for you... yet, but hopefully that was enough to suffice!"

If you'd had to breathe in many more of those you'd probably start to feel queasy, so you tell her that it's good enough for now.

There's a series of slappy footsteps descending the staircase, and you soon find out that they belong to a little purple and green dragon. A baby dragon, if you're not mistaken.
"Alright, alright. What is it n-?"

He locks eyes onto you and is just as confused as you are.
"Twilight, who's this?"

"It's a long story. I'll have to explain later. What's important right now is I need you to go out and get me dinner. A large combo meal from Bronco Bell, and this time make sure they go heavy on the beans!”

Spike immediately recoils at that idea. "Ugh. Are you sure about that? I'm still having nightmares about the last time." He pinches his nose and flaps his claw to demonstrate. Twilight just shakes her head like she's dealt with this before and waves a hoof at him.

"It's for research!"

"Fine, but I'm buying myself a clothes peg while I'm at it."

With not another word, Spike troops out of the library, still shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

You turn back around and Twilight's right in front of you, breathing heavily with that same enthusiastic smile plastered across her face. You scream and nearly fall over backwards.

"There's so much we can do, I'm not sure where to start! Maybe I could ask you some more questions... or, if you're feeling a little brave, I do have some odd scrolls I found tucked in a few of my fetish books. Maybe I could try them out on you?"