Treat of the Tricked Pony!

I had gotten here on my own, maybe I had heard of the place? Either way, I had become excited about going. Now I am here.

I had slipped out of my street clothes, it is like going to the gym, or the pool, you don't wear your clothes.

Now I had found something curious, a set of garments, looking like stockings, and gloves. It is what it looks like, it is what I saw. There was a sign in front of the garments.

“Free Try Out, when you're with the Pony!” the sign read.

The offer sounded strange, but I guess I had nothing to lose? I decided on taking a set, just to try it, as suggested according to the offer.

Since I am nude, it was obvious, these were to be worn directly onto my skin, which is convenient, in this case. Even if they had not explained what they were for.

I had started by picking the left stocking, only momentarily startled, by the hue, which is strikingly like my own complexion. Almost too close for comfort, as if they had been made for me in person? Slipping the foot in, pulling it up, inch by inch, until I felt my toes hit the end, and my fingers soon losing the grip, but the stocking now all the way up, covering my entire left leg. Looking down, I could clearly see my toes, as if I had still been nude, even though my nails are slightly longer now, glistering as if polished.

I pick up the other, right stocking, slipping my foot in, feeling the sleek, slippery fabric, as it stretches just enough for my foot to slip down easily, yet contracting just enough, in order to leave all air out. That's a very tight garment?

To my surprise, the stockings gives me a stunning grip on the floor. I guess it did chock me initially. Without feeling sticky, it still keeps be firmly on my feet, without slipping in the least.

Apparently, all but the soles of the feet are slippery, as if giving up the grip, to the one small spot?

I guess I enjoy the feeling. Though the stockings are never slipping off, as easy as it had been to slip them on. Maybe it is because they are so tight, they are bound to stay up, feeling almost as if they had been made for me, or painted on?

Once I had enjoyed the stockings for a moment, I pick the right glove, slipping the hand in, feeling its inside just as slippery as the stockings are. Just as slippery as the inside is the outside, short of the palm of the hand.

I had slipped both stockings on, then the gloves. Only now, I still do feel as if I had been nude. It's not bothering me, why? Not just because I'm alone, is it. Then again, the pony is waiting for me, isn't she? It's what the offer had promised.

I just walked to her. She is indeed waiting for me. I could see, she is looking at me, as if she had been waiting all day for me.

“Would you hold my horn with your right hand?” she suggested.

“Sure, I will!” I told her in response, touching her horn, holding it firmly in my hand for a full minute, before letting go.

“Now, if you could place the hand on the table?” she then continued.

I did as she told me, not knowing why. I guess I was to know it, once it had all come to the inevitable conclusion, as the expression goes? Yet, I had no idea, as to what the conclusion was. Just as I did not know, why she told me to do all the things she told me to do.

“Could you hold my horn with your left hand?” she asked, as I had placed my hand on the table, which I happily did, since I somehow enjoyed it.

“If you place the hand on the table?” she then suggested.

I did as she told me, without as much as an instant of hesitation, even if I still had no idea as to why she told me, or why I was to do it. Maybe just for the joy of the offer, wearing the gloves and stockings. For as long as I was free to wear them? Since I still did enjoy wearing them.

“Hold my horn with both hands, fingers interlaced?” she then continued.

I did as she told me. Even if the horn still is just as slippery as it had been the first time? As if it had been covered with some kind of thick lube? Yet, how could it stay on the horn, and none smearing onto my fingers? She just looked at me, bemused, as if ignorant to the matter, or if she enjoyed it?

“Place your hands onto the table, palms down!” she then instructed me.

Giggling, I still did as she had told me. There was no rhyme or reason, just plane silly fun, what more was required? Nothing really changed, or that's what I had thought. It's what I imagined, since there is no way anything could possibly change? Even if she is a unicorn, for all I could see. Only now, here's the punch line.

“Put your hands together, fingers interlaced!” she told me, with an amused tone of voice.

I know I wasn't imagining it, but I still did as she had told me. For a moment, nothing really happened. Just as I knew it wouldn't. It couldn't.

“Push your elbows together!” she said, excitedly, as if she had been awaiting this, for the longest of times, knowing what was about to happen.

“Yeah!” I uttered giggling bemused, as I did put my elbows together, knowing nothing was to happen, only to be proven wrong, as my hands slowly turned into a thick rubber yello, or to the point, the head of it, while my arms became the yello.

“I need you to slip the yello into my orchid. You can do that?” she teased me.

“Ofhorse!” I replied, as I slip the head of the yello inside, as she had begged of me.

Slowly I slipped the yello inside, pushing it further, then slowly pulling out, just to be stopped short. The head of the yello, made up by my hands refused to pull out. I slowly pushed back in, maybe in an attempt to have a new chance, pulling out, yet it was doomed to fail. Slowly, I push, then pull, repeatedly. Feeling the inside of her orchid. I just couldn't quite gather, just how it could feel so good. After a few attempts, I gave up the pulling out. I had also tried to pull my elbows apart, yet, it failed just as miserably.

My yello, the colour of her hooves, as it had turned out. It's insainly elastic, flexible. Slippery, almost as slippery as her horn, or it's what it felt like. There was something exiting about the entire situation. I just couldn't quite put my finger to exactly what.

After about an hour, or was it two, I suddenly realised my yello had slipped out of her, and my elbows had already parted, all by its self? I had done nothing to the effect, maybe since I had given up on even trying, or if it's because I had enjoyed it.

That's when the chock hit me. I had managed to pull my hands out. Yet now, I just realised, my hands had turned into hooves, just like hers. There was no other changes. Aside from the fact that my feet also are hooves, just like hers. I'm standing on all fours. The changes had been effecting exactly the skin covered by the gloves and stockings. There is nothing I could do about it, all of my own. It's how it felt. Maybe I could?

“You're welcome back, by tomorrow!” she told me, and I could feel she meant it.

“Thanks!” I uttered.

“Just don't forget to practice on your own!” she mentioned.

“I'll see you by tomorrow!” I finished, as I left.