Rarity watched her last customer gallop excitedly out of her front door with her new dress and a radiant smile. Her eyes followed her for a moment, a satisfied smile of her own on her lips. It was just a simple pullover sundress; a light and breezy little thing for a young filly's first school dance. But oh, it was such a joy to make for her! She'd wanted something to catch the eye of that little would-be Casanova who'd been trying to make the rounds of the schoolyard and breaking hearts with his handsome smile and charming laugh. The poor dear was so smitten that she nearly chewed her ear off with syrupy-sweet descriptions of his mane. Well, with that little number and the lovely hair ribbon she'd thrown in, the girl would not just turn his head; she'd have to start beating the little colts away with a stick.
She snickered wickedly to herself and locked the door. "Just like yourself at that age. So new to romance, all full of ideas and dreams." A sigh brushed her front window's lace curtains as she turned the sign to 'CLOSED'. "Of course, we know better now. A pony can only break so many hearts, after all, before one finds one's own heart being broken."
She hopped down from her small stepladder and headed to the till to count her profit for the day. Once it was safely counted, recounted, noted in her ledger, and balanced against projected future gains, she nudged the till closed and flicked off the lights. She paused in the doorway to her office to stare critically at the display ponniquins in her window. "Hmmm, I think I might move those display dresses to the rack tomorrow. I think I might have a new idea for a line of summer dresses. Spring is so over, after all." She nodded firmly, then shut and locked the door behind her.
Rarity nosed through her library, inhaling the delicious scent of old and well-loved books. The spines of some were beginning to crack despite her care, and they were plagued by hastily done dog-ears and a few coffee stains. One was nearly unreadable after it had accidentally joined her in the bathtub, but she kept it and cared for it just the same. All of them were her favorites. There wasn't a single one she hated. It turned out that her sense for fashion had lent her an impeccable eye when it came to choosing just the right book. Each book had to fulfill a certain standard, and she kept rigidly to it, and so far she hadn't been wrong. Every trip to the bookstore was like choosing a lover for the night, with the protagonists whirling her through the pages and ravishing her mind with their adventures, leaving her tired and satisfied as she closed the cover.
She giggled and plucked an older one from the shelf. Its cover was plaid, and had a picture of a powerfully built stallion wearing most of a shirt on the front. "Ah, here's one we haven't read in a while," she said, a slight skip in her step as she headed toward her bathroom and the warm bath waiting there for her. "Wait a moment." Rarity looked up at her wall clock. "The others are normally beating down my door by this point. I wonder what might be keeping them." She thought for a moment, and then decided it didn't matter. "Oh well~" she chirped, her tail perking as she flounced toward her tub. "A quiet night alone with a book is something I've been wanting for a while."
She stopped briefly by her vanity and grabbed a black pot from the edge and unscrewed the top. She dipped her hoof in and dabbed lightly at her face, smearing the artfully applied makeup with a mixture she'd created just for this. It would quickly remove even the thickest, most caked-on makeup while leaving the skin and facial coat rejuvenated. Afterward was a quick rubdown with a towel, and then her mud mask, something which she enjoyed wearing just a little too much sometimes. She laughed quietly to herself. "You just like the idea of being clean while wearing mud all over your face. Don't you, Rarity?" She continued to chuckle at the thought as she tucked her hair up into a fluffy terrycloth towel.
"At last, my sweet," she said to the faded tartan cover of her book, "I am ready for my bath."
Rarity stepped away from the vanity and picked the book up gently with her mouth, then headed for the tub. It foamed and steamed and smelled softly of lavender, and was exactly the perfect temperature. Before she could begin, she had to test it. She daintily dipped a hoof into the water and shivered as the warmth spread up her leg in a rippling wave of pure pleasure. "Oh~h my," she breathed as she settled slowly into the water, inching her way below the surface, and came to rest with her shoulders just above the floating lavender seeds. "Bliss~!"
She turned to her book, then, and patted the cover to reassure it that she hadn't forgotten it was there. She then opened to a dog-eared section in the middle and began to read.
"Lord Tartan Claymore powerfully snatched Lady Redflower's slender, beautiful shoulders roughly and threw her roughly against the wall of his wooden and pine hunting lodge. The scent of pine wafted sloooowly up from the wall as her bruised shoulders as she stared up at him as he stared back at her, their gorgeous eyes locked. 'Lady Redflower,' he groaned in a husky groan. 'I need you. NOW'."
Rarity put her hoof to her mouth and laughed as she scanned the page. "Lady Redflower's cheeks colored to think of what the savage brute could want from her, of the obviousness of how he was going to ravish her and claim her in the ancient ways of the Scoltish lords of old."
Rarity threw her head back against the side of the tub and let out a long belly laugh. "Ohohoho! Oh! Oh my! My sides! This is too funny!" She flicked a tear from her eye and buried her nose back into the pages. "And then Lord Tartan Claymore BELLOWED, 'I do not care, my lady! For you are mine and I shall have you! Because you are mine, just as the ancient Scoltish ways demand!' Lord Tartan Claymore grasped Lady Redflower's gown in a powerful grasp and ripped it asunder revealing her heaving chestflesh to the cold Scoltish winter's night. But Lady Redflower was not cold, no, she was hot with the heat of his lust burning in her heart. She wanted this, to be taken by the manly stud and pressed against his heaving, sweaty chest."
Rarity's horn sparked and a pair of her favorite combs, a blue porcelain comb and a rough-bristled coatbrush, flew into the air and came to a stop above the tub. "My Lady Redflower!" barked the coatbrush. "I have taken your land, your house, and your title! And now, I will take YOUR VIRGINITY!"
The blue comb fainted and turned its tines away from the brush. "But, milord! I am a virgin! Were you to take mine maidenhead I would surely be ruined for marriage! FOREVER!"
The comb yelped as she was thrown to the 'ground' and pinned under the brush's stiff bristles. "I care not to hear your foolish cries! No pony can hear you here!" The two combs clacked together with Rarity providing smooching and moaning noises while trying to laugh through pursed lips.
Sometime later, she placed the book back on the sink and sank into the bath with a contented sigh. "Oh darling Primrose," she murmured, fondly regarding the book. Her eyes were puffy and red from laughing, and little crinkles appeared at their edges. "Someday, I must find you and thank you for your terrible writing." With another happy sigh, she lay her head back against the tub and twisted the hot water knob with the tip of her hind hoof.