Spice is the Spice of Life (RGRE Cayenne)

>You were Anon, bar hustler.
>It was 9 o’clock on a Saturday.
>The regular crowd shuffled in.
>There was an old mare sitting next to you making love to her tonic and gin.
>This was your first night in town, so no one was aware of your tricks.
>You didn’t make bets you had a chance of losing, afterall.
>That was just bad business.
>To them you were just an exotic bottle fairy, easy pickings.
>It didn’t take long to find your first marks.
>Not far from your seat a grumpy looking earth mare was bragging to her friends with a story about how strong she was.
>She had a light yellow coat and a pink and purple mane.
>”I mean, sure, dragging cartloads of carrots all day is nice, but any mare can hitch herself to a wagon and get where she’s going eventually. You ever try pulling taffy all day? Candy is what separates the mares from the fillies!”
>She flexed her bicep and dared her compatriots to squeeze it.
>You slipped from your seat and stalked over to her.
>Like a predator on the hunt.
>She didn’t even notice when you took the stool next to her, but her compatriots did.
>When she got the hint that someone was behind her and looked your way you grinned at her.
“Mind if I take a feel?”
>Her eyes went wide.
>”Y-yeah, go ahead.”
>Your travels were taking you north, so you’d just arrived from the minotaur lands. Her muscles were nothing special compared to the cows, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Nice.”
>”You, uh, you won’t find stronger mare this side of the Everfree.”
>”Pony feathersh, Bon Bon. Even if Maud weren’t in town you’d shtill loshe to Applezhack”, another mare commented. She was a darker yellow and had orange hair.
>Bon Bon punched her in the shoulder and said something you couldn’t quite hear. Some of the words you caught were crass by pony standards.
>You took a sip of your drink.
>Water, of course. You liked to keep a clear head on the job.
“A lot of strength is in the mind. Being physically strong isn't enough if you can’t finish the job.”
>The mare from before laughed. “Like a colt knowsh about hard work!”
“What’s your name?”
>”Carrot Top.”
“Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and see if you can finish the job?”
>”You comin’ on to me, colt?”
>You flagged down the bartender and asked for two shot glasses and a pitcher of water.
“I’m asking you to play a game with me. It’s simple.” You pulled a bottle out of your pocket. “Each round I’ll add a little bit more of this to our drinks. All you have to do is match me until I can’t drink anymore. Stakes are ten bits each, winner takes all.”
>”You’re on, colt!”
>Both of you put your bits on the table.
>You put a single drop into each glass, then filled them with water.
“On three. One… Two… Three!”
>You felt nothing as the liquid passed over your tongue. Carrot Top wasn’t so fortunate.
>At first nothing happened, but then sweat started to form on her brow.
>She started panting and sucking on her tongue to make the taste go away.
>A string of snot started to ooze out of her left nostril.
>Then she noticed you weren’t reacting like she was.
>“Y-you sheated! You mutht-ta-ta-must have jusht had water!”
“Bullshit. You saw me prepare the drinks.”
>”No, you sheated!”
“Then how about this: Next round you choose which drink to take. Is that fair?”
>”I don’t play with sheaters.”, she said, then scooped up her bits and sulked off.
>”Hey!”, Bon Bon yelled.
>She was about to go after Carrot Top, but you grabbed her hoof.
“Let her be. She obviously wasn’t mare enough to handle my challenge anyway.”
>”She broke her word!”
“Some mares are like that. What about you, though? Will you play my game?”
>You smiled at her and bit your lip.
“S-sure!”
>And so you started again.
>Bon Bon couldn’t get past the third round before she had to give up.
>A half dozen other ponies tried their hooves at the game too, but none of them got any farther.
>Unbeknownst to you, though, a very particular mare was watching your hustle from afar.
>When the bar settled down from your shenanigans she walked over and took the stool next to you.
>”I’ll play. Thirty bits each.”
“You must think you’re tough stuff if you’re willing to risk that much.”
>She just smiled, but it wasn’t the innocent kind of smile most mares sent your way.
>You could feel a genuine challenge shining through her eyes.
“I think I’ll pass, then. I don’t make losing bets.”
>”What makes you so sure you’d lose?”
“Call it a gut feeling...” You studied her closely for a second. “And you’ve got peppers on your flank.”
>”Then how about we just play for fun?”
>You tapped your fingers on the table.
>It’d been a while since you actually felt any heat from your games.
“Sure, I’ll do that.”
>So you started playing.
>The first couple of rounds you both might as well have been drinking water, so on the fourth round you filled both shot glasses to the brim with your hot sauce.
“To make things interesting.”, you explained.
>You both started feeling the heat, but neither of you were willing to back down.
>By the end of the night your bottle was empty and you were both hot, sweaty, snotty wrecks.
>”I don’t think… I’ve ever had A sauce that hot. Where’d you get it?”
“I made it myself, actually.”
>”Really? What’s in it?”
“Just some oil and a lot of ground peppers. I can’t get the kinds of ultrahots here that I could get back home, so I filter the oil after each infusion and start again with more peppers until I get the heat I want.”
>”I guess that’s why it tastes a little burnt.”
“Yeah. It doesn’t have the best flavor, but the heat more than makes up for it.”
>”Sooo... ”
“Sooo…?”
>Her cheeks were flushed, and she fidgeted in her chair a little bit.
>”...Have you ever wondered what a hot blow job felt like?”

>And that was how you settled down in Ponyville and wound up marrying Cayenne.