Author's Note

If you were confused, the story is told from the perspectives of four different ponies. Night Rhyme is our third protagonist who doesn't know Neon and Copal yet (the ponies from last two chapters). This is why this chapter feels separated from the previous ones.

3: Mirrors

Chapter 3

Mirrors

Contains Gender Transformation, Male Masturbation, Minor humiliation, tucking/pseudo-gelding

"Two pancakes with hay brown patty coming up!"

"Got it!" I answered as I waved through the narrow paths towards the kitchen counter.

"For table four", the chef said over the counter. I nodded and carried the food with my magic and headed for the table.

Sitting at the booth were two stallions in suits on each side. The one in black suit had a streaky blue-black mane and a grey face, and probably in his early thirties. The one in striped brown suit has a fedora on his head and a khaki middle-age spread. They were talking, and judging by their attire I would assume they were talking about business.

"…be awful but lucrative. Win-win." The one with fedora smirked, but stopped as I stood by the table.

"Morning gentlecolts," I said with a charming smile while putting the food in front of them. "Home-made pancakes with hay brown patty for you two… and one cup of coffee."

"Mhmm thank you my filly," The stallion said with a rascal smile, "You have a pretty face my foal. Tell me, what's your name?"

I tried to keep my smile and composure as I looked at both of them. The other stallion stared at me with a deadpan expression. To be a hospitable waitress, I tried to reply.

"Thank you, sir. You can call me Night Rhyme." I added, "What about you?"

He exploded in laughter and guffawed obnoxiously. "What about me? My my young filly, you'd probably be scared if I tell you my name! But, if you like you can always call me your 'big daddy'! Heh!"

I chuckled a little in order to end the conversation with this creep. But before I could turn around and head for another order, he spoke again.

"Wait a minute, have I seen you before?"

I looked back at him, confused. "I don't think so?"

He stared into my eyes for a moment.

"Hmm… you looked familiar. That's all."

I observed their appearances once again and check if I have met them before. While nothing came up to my mind, I felt like I should have known them somewhere.

Other than that, there was nothing peculiar about them, except for the grey stallion staring at me throughout the conversation. I turned away before the situation became even more awkward, but then…

But then, I felt it.

No… this is impossible… how?

The world spun around me as I swept my gaze across the diner; anyone could have noticed it. I could feel a burning chill spreading across my body. I saw my boss behind the counter, but he was too busy tending the coffee machine. I turned my head but was met with the grey stallion's staring azure eyes – a gelid blue as chill as burning ice; I could feel its glaring gaze scorching the core of my innermost fear. And his magical aura… it was alien.

Every second the feeling was more prominant. Every second anypony would see. I lowered my head and paced across the diner. I tried to run, but something caught me by my shoulders.

"Hey Rhyme, are you alright? You look… unwell."

No please no please no please no please—

"I… just need the bathroom"

"Oh alright. Hey don't stress yourself out, your… voice seems off."

I left my boss alone and rushed into the staffroom. I yanked my saddle off the hook and ransacked it desperately for my vial, while sweat dripped from my face into my vision. Once I found it I seized the tube with telekinesis and galloped towards the restroom. Cold sweat and tears was dribbling down my face. They'd have seen it all. They'd have known. I looked pathetic…

I hid and locked myself in the small fillies room at the back of the diner. Finally, I was safe. But I was filled with shame and humiliation too. I sniveled in grave embarrassment as I sat on the stool and examined the damage. I looked at my body as I cried a little outside and inside.

Just as I felt, a small sheath has formed between my legs. In it, what was once my clitoris has turned into a small flaccid shaft. My vulva tingled as it vibrated and shifted. My abdomen twisted and churned. The two teats above my nether has shrunk into my body. My fur was turning from teal to sea green as I continued to morph.

The numb then evolved into crushing pain as every bones and muscles shifted their position. I held my scream as my muzzle pulled and transformed, and as my scalp stretched and translocated my mane into a new shape.

Then I lifted my head. Across the small damp restroom was my reflection in the mirror. It was tinted and intensified by the only spotlight above, but the shape of myself sitting on the stool with legs wide spread could be clearly seen. The strong flaxen light shone directly onto my nether region, highlighting the undeniable organ in between.

I saw myself, the young colt I was.

I was mortified to think somepony may caught my secret just then. I was confused as to why I shifted so soon. Was it the formula? Was it me? Was it the grey stallion? His eyes… I shivered.

I gave another look at my body and sighed.

I reluctantly lifted my hoof and touched the sheath on my crotch. My senses have changed and the skin felt different, as if I had new body parts. What was once the upper part of my slit has turned into a cock sheath that only stallions would have. And in it was an olive green, unerected cock tucked shyly under the flaps of skin, silently waiting, pulsing, wishing to be used.

It was mine, I remembered well; my colthood, tucked away with unspeakable magic, hidden and morphed by arcane spells, transformed into my marehood through my own device.

It was mine. I remembered well; its texture, its size, its color, its veins and ring; and every touches I felt with it when I was a colt – every stroke, every tingle, every rub I have applied onto it. It had intrigued me. It had confused me. Every quiet nights in my younger years, when mom and dad was asleep, when I was alone in my bed at dark, I would inquisitively fondle the soft meaty flesh that, as well, inquisitively poked out of its prepuce. As I ran my hoof softly along the young sensitive meat, as I watched the small but eager shaft bulged and stiffen, the caressing gave me an elated sensation that I loved and enjoyed.

Yet, it baffled me to the same extent. Touching my colthood was erotic, but it made me felt miserable at the same time. As if, it didn't belong. As if, it should've been something else. Every touch and caressing of my colthood gave me unfathomable joy and bliss, but it made me equally dejected and upset at the same time. Sex was not something for the young colt I was in the first place, but it felt dreadful nonetheless. The more I couldn't enjoy the euphoic pulses and dry spasms as I reached my juvenile climax, the more I was downed by the sight of my prod and the social role attached, and the more I detested by body.

I traced my hoof from the tip of my slightly protruding cock to the smooth flat area where my testes should be. What was once my slit has completely fused into a smooth flat skin underneath my sheath to the sphincter. I knew where they were, those oval precious, burried deep within my abdomen; they had yet to drop from my inside to a degenerated pouch. The sight of my empty purse felt horribly wrong, yet fervidly arousing; as if my jewels were removed from the picture, and what remains was a continuous skin underneath my cock. I never understood this gelding eroticism, but it had always amused me nonetheless. And that, too, added to the shame and humiliation I was feeling. I blushed.

I gently and carefully brushed the tip of my curious cock with my hoof, trying to coax it out of its protective pouch. I was excited to give myself sexual pleasure, but I sighed as I knew why I need to rub myself off. I quickly downed the vial of transformation potion and waited for its effect. The method I used to achieve my self-mutilation was as sickening as the grievous truth of my identity – I must fondle and treat my colthood after each transformation cycle before I could return to my ideal form again; I must squirt out my seed before this vial could make me transform.

My colthood protruded more and more as I caressed my prepuce. Tucked away and never used, it struggled to stretch itself into its full form. I watched intently as my shaft bulged from a pudgy floppy meat to a shy shaft trying to stand on his own. My cock was small and not as hard, since it was denied growth and colt hormones, but it was functional nonetheless. I shifted my tending to the veiny shaft itself, examining the tender flesh holding up my phallus. I let out an involuntary sigh as my touch forced an enticing elation through my body. More, I begged, but more was the guilt it gave to me.

My cock tingled and twitched as I continued to run my hoof up and down the shaft. I softly panted as the pressure built inside me, urging me to stroke my penis even more. I looked at my olive green phallus, gazed at the petite urethra on my flare tip, and glanced at the perpetual ring circling my girth. I blushed at the sight of my penis which I had been dying to get rid of. I blushed even harder as it bounced in my hoof due to its meatiness and mild flaccidity. It was obscene and abnormal to me, but at the same time, it was excessively arousing as the little meaty flesh bounced between my legs. I stroked harder on my cock and moaned a little more.

My unwanted sex caught my attention again as the testes finally dropped from its abdominal cavity to the loose skin beneath my cock. I could feel the tightness underneath my sheath, as my jewels forced themselves into the tight pouch unwelcoming to the two potent balls. I winced at the pressure on my sensitive degenerates, as they echoed a mild pain of pressure into my abdomen. I traced my hoof on my scrotum, feeling the small firm nubs inside. I whimpered at the sensation felt from my sensitive skin and the mildly nauseating feeling from the pressure. It hurt when I touch and fondle the sensitive jewels, and it strained me to feel them dangling between my hind legs. I pushed them inwards and upwards towards the inguinal canal, and they obediently popped back into the base of my penis. I ran my hoof along the flappy yet empty scrotum and shivered physically and mentally. I looked at the wrinkled, deflated skin where my jewels were supposed to dangle, and my cock twitched again.

I moaned softly and traced my other hoof along my chest. What was once a curvy, busty body was now angular and muscular. The contour, complexion and the disposition of muscles and fat conformed to the shape I once was. I leaned back against the toilet seat and closed my eyes, gently grazing my hoof from my stomach to my chest. I saw myself looking at the mirror when I was young, staring at my body as I grew into a young stallion. I felt shameful and confused and I couldn't understand why I felt unhappy. I frowned and shivered as the young colt grew older in front of me, laying on his bed and closing his eyes, grazing his hooves along his soft, sensitive fur as I was now, and we both shiver in excitement as we imagine the curves and soft coat we always wanted on our body. We would trace our hooves along our teats, hoping they would develop and grow just as other fillies would. We would pant and whimper on the bed like a filly, and clamping onto our tucked shaft with our hind legs and squirm our body with bliss. We would drown myself in the imagination of feeling like a mare, and we felt happier, forgetting for a short period of time the sorrow we carry each day.

I moaned and whimpered even more as these thoughts brought me closer to joy. A pressure grew greater and greater inside me. I could feel it, this unknown force, pushing harder and stronger against the base of my shaft. I blushed and stroke harder, bowing down to the idea of releasing myself. I cringed and begged for more, giving in to my bodily urge of coming white seed in an orgasmic release. It hurts to see or think of myself shooting out semen out of my stallion pole, and I crave for the blissful euphoria of pure internal orgasm only mares could experience. But I am too weak for my own body, helpless in changing it, and wanted more for the lustful bliss of masturbation and ejaculating through my twitching ready shaft. I knew I am close. I knew I wanted to come. I moaned.

I stroke my shaft with unfathomable speed. I leaned against the backseat and cringed as I felt the pressure bubbling towards the surface. The muscles in my legs and body tensed as I yearned for my inevitable release. I looked upwards with my eyes closed, anticipating for the coming euphoria. I squeezed my thighs together as my body ached from the anticipation. I rubbed and pressed and squeezed my penis to make myself come. I was close. My mind was blank. I wanted to come.

I whimpered in ecstasy as I hit the point of no return. I grasp at my penis as it shot loads after loads of warm white seed into the air and onto my chest. I held onto my shaft as it pulsated, wincing as the orgasm washed through every sensory cells in my body. My mind was flooded with an innate bliss and drowned in the urge for more. I whinnied at the erotic display as my white, viscous cum keep helplessly squirting out of my urethra and scattered on my abdomen and chest. The salty pungent smell thickened in the air, as the semen on my fur emanated the meager amount of male hormones and proteins once left in my body. My hoof was smeared with cum. My fur was drowned in cum. My shaft shrank and limped onto the pool of fluids on my abdomen while it was still leaking. I leaned back and watched my orgasmic display as the ecstasy died down. After the innate craving for sexual release stopped taking over, my feelings plummeted to rock bottom as I processed what I have done. I looked at the mess all over my body, the mess created by this revolting cock and balls of mine. I hate to see them. I hate to see my own cum. I hate to see myself…

To what extent must I hate my body and myself? To what extent must I torment myself? To what extent must I keep up this lie to me and to others? I am a stallion, and no amount of arcane spells or exotic potions in Equestria could change this fact. I was just merely masking and shapeshifting an irrefutable truth about myself.

And what was the point? Why couldn't I just accept the fact that I'm a colt and forever will be? All the time when I would cry miserably in bed I was scared and confused. All the time when there was no one I could talk to about my fears I was alone. All the time when I played with my friends in school I felt fake. Suck it up, ponies often say, perhaps I should suck it up as well. I always wondered if others felt the same, living in constant fear that someone would despise them for what they really were. My life has never been normal, and this… filly inside me… was like an unsatisfiable beast that threatened to turn my world upside down every day. Not that my life wasn't upside down already when I ran away from home with anger and guilt, I… I just wish to be normal, to like normal things, to be spared from all these self-hatred and confusion, and just be daddy's big colt again. But, I decided to drain my life away, like the semen that was dripping into the toilet seat. I decided to throw my life, my family, and my dreams away to pursue some nonsense feelings of becoming the opposite sex, to chase after something that can never be achieved.

My cock has retrieved back into its sheath and became quiet. The semen on my coat has started to dry; my hoof was still sticky and feeling awful. As I wait for the potion to kick in, I leaned back against the toilet and closed my eyes as they started to water. I came to realize, I was a liar, a pervert who masturbate in the workspace, a freak who dressed as a filly in public, and a failure who gave up his dreams in pursuit of a poisonous wish. I hated my father but I missed him now… I would die to see my mother one more time… even when I was still covered in cum — but I bet they'd rather see me in cum than in a dress. No. They would not want to see me at all.

A crushing pain spread through my body as every bones and muscles shifted their position again. It burned so excruciatingly, but I couldn't feel it anymore. I scrunched my face in agony is my muzzle pulled and transformed, and my scalp stretched and translocated my mane. My fur shivered and faded from sea green to teal again, and the two nubs above my degenerate started to regrow. My stomach twisted and churned as the organs transformed themselves. My testes shuddered and retracted into my body, morphing into a pair of dysfunctional ovaries. The sheath and scrotum shrank and tightened, then even my penis withered and shrank, while the skin beneath tore up to form the vulva. A second later, my penis has disappeared into my labia and became a clitoris, and the skins have folded and flushed themselves to form a marehood just like any other mares.

I looked at the mirror again. Under the yellow spotlight, I could see the curves and contours of a teal-coated mare. I was Night Rhyme again, who I really was inside my heart, but was also a liar deceiving everypony and even myself. I grinned ever so slightly as I see a lovely, smooth slit where my rod just was, but I stopped as I saw the stain of my semen covering my teats and coat. If they were my dream stallion's, perhaps I would blush — and perhaps if it was me from a time paradox, it could be kinky and fun — but the current sight did not amuse me, and I felt even worse thinking about cleaning them. I whinnied and sighed, conjuring magical forces to scrub the stain away. It wasn't hard — I knew as I have done it before, but it would take time and remind me what I am under this elaborate façade.

A couple minutes later, I flushed the toilet without daring to look at the cum inside. I lifted the vial again with magic and check my appearance in the mirror again. There should be no clues or evidence of what I have done, but I must make sure.

I walked out of the fillies room timidly and tiptoed into the staffroom. While no one should see me currently, my heart was filled with embarrassment as I literally just clopped in a publicly accessible diner. I was turning the knob on the staffroom door when something tapped my shoulder again.

"Hey Nighty you alright—"

"Gah! I… I'm fine Flute, my stomach ached badly just now."

"Oh I see, take care of yourself ok? Why don't you take a break and continue work when you're ready? I can manage the floor."

"Alright, thanks."

My boss smiled and returned to the dining area. I watched him go and decided to check on one more thing. I peaked my head so I could just see the tables and customers, and I looked at table four. I need to know who that grey stallion was. But, as I presumed, they were already gone…

I thought to myself for a moment, then I went into the staffroom and rest.