Dream Gel - Personal Revelations:

by Ponyess

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Luna, Original Character, Science Fiction, Other, Random, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Human
Length: 5604

It all started with a bad dream, or a nightmare, then I had dream therapy. The massage before it gave me the chance to express what the dream had been in a new way. Only then, I chose to stay in the new form. With that, I'm now a Pony.

I had had a bad dream, a nightmare. Only that wasn't the end of it, just as it wasn't the beginning.

I was to have Dream Therapy, and it all started with a massage. They sure made me relax, and it was supposed to draw out the inner demons from the dream, in order for the treatment to continue.

I woke up in the morning, just as intended, and I had changed into what is to pass for a pony. This is where my new life and adventure started out. Apparently, I'm not to leave this form in the manner it had been explained to me.

Published 2014-03-21 03:00:03 UTC
Last updated 2014-09-13 12:04:06 UTC

Introduction: 1

I had come to the centre for a treatment, which would include a session of massage. They had claimed it would help me relaxing. I guess I can believe them since massage was widely known to be relaxing, I have enjoyed that a few times before.

I had undressed, stripped naked, now laying nude on the top of the bed on which I was to have the massage. They had explained that the oil of the massage had to be spread all over my body, the entire body that is. That would require complete nudity, and I guess I didn't mind.

Massage, I love it, it helped me realise who I am. I'm a very tactile girl. I require bodily contact. Massage is the best way of going there. Even if I would have loved and preferred, if it had been with the additional pleasure from a personal relation. Only, I'm currently alone. Maybe I have not yet found anyone who enjoys the tactile pleasures as I do? Maybe I need to find myself, in order to find whom I need to live with?

I had come here in order to get closer to myself. I had arrived at the conclusion, I may find myself in my dreams, just not sure why? Yet, it's a possibility, an option, I couldn't afford to pass up.

I now lie with my belly on the rubber sheet, covering the mattress on the bed, the gurney I lie on. Awaiting the massage.

Feeling her hands on the small of my neck, wet with the oil intended for massage. If only I knew what the oil had been laced with? Had I turned my back on what's about to come?

Her strong hands, slender and skilled, knowing exactly where to go, working their way from the edge of my neck, just where my hair ended. Slowly, carefully. I felt her fingers working their way, from the centre and down towards the front, then in small circles, as they move down my neck.

She had been working down my spine, which is exactly what she kept doing. Only, she did not stop at the end of my neck, but kept moving down, all the way down to the small of my back, until she had moved all the way to the other end of my spine.

I could feel her hands, her fingers, as she moved up, along the sides of the spine, both right and left. I sense the effects of the oil, she spread on my back, as she works her way up and down, side to side, ever outwards. I feel my skin absorbing the luxurious oil she had picked, as she keeps working her way outwards, all the way out, to the flanks.

There is an untouchable scent from her. I just can't put my fingers to it, I can't grasp just what it is. What I can sense, is an association, fresh and excitement. Is it what I feel, as I feel her hands on my shoulders? Or am I assigning the feelings to her, in some way?

Her hands on my shoulders, still rubbing outwards, round and round.

She takes a step back, I couldn't hear it. I just knew, as her hands had vanished from my back. She once more covered her hands in the rejuvenating oil, chosen for me.

Hands, once more back, this time on my right shoulder. Her fingers digging in, palms calmly spreading the oil, all over the skin. Slowly, she moved from the shoulder, down my arm. From the top, the back of my arm, down, out, all the way to the other side, where her fingers meet. I feel her fingers lingering, intertwining. I know she is there, I know where she is. She's too slow to slip away, to slip off, yet too fast to make a single stop, seamless moves, fluidly covering my skin.

She moved over muscle after muscle, slowly, forcefully making me relax. I enjoy the touch, every second, every instant. She moves down my elbow, and further, further down, over and around the wrist, up, and onto my hand, from the top, down to flanks, and the palm. Finger by finger, starting with the thumb. As she had finished the first hand, she quietly, soundlessly move to the other side. I knew she was going over the other arm.

As she had finished the final finger, she was soon down, hands on, on my rear, my rump. From the top, outwards, downwards. A spiral ending on the flank.

I feel her, fingers first, my right leg, on the top of my thigh. All the way down, on the top of my leg, outwards, downwards. Wave upon wave. Back and forth.

The knee was reached, and she moved down the calf, down and out, back and forth. Not missing anything, as she covers my skin with the oil. Oil seeping into every last pore, my skin eagerly, hungrily absorbing every last drop she offered. Soon reaching the heel, moving down and out, spiralling all the way to the other side. Moving down my foot.

Reaching my toes, starting with the inner, larger toe, continuing outwards, until the last toe had been over, covered and utterly relaxed.

Once she had finished my backside, I am relaxed. She had covered almost the entire surface of my skin. Now she slowly, carefully turn me on my back.

Strangely, I'm so relaxed, I barely feel the soft fabric under my back, my legs and arms.

Only now, she moves to the top, facing me, looking down at me. My eyes closed. She starts on the top, my forehead. Slowly out, down, out and down. Her movements practised to perfection, yet warm, feeling. I know she is there, feeling, touched.

She reached my hair line, under the bangs. From there, she moves down, over my cheeks. Starting anew on the top of my nose, down, out and spiralling.

On my lips, I feel her fingers, the wet sensation of the oil she spreads. The relaxation, the pleasure, the joy.

I had not even noticed, her fingers slipping in slightly, into my mouth, between my lips, even into my nostrils, never missing skin. Moving down my chin, over my throat. Following the ridge of my wind pipe. So soft, I barely noticed, yet I knew she did not miss it, enjoying her touch, as she moved over to my chest.

From on top of my nibbles, the high point, on high, teasing my nibbles, the top, then the sides, round and round, spiralling. As her fingers spirals down, I feel myself slipping, spiralling out. I'm conscious, yet the sensation of her fingers, is all I know, all I want, and desire.

Down each jigglie, down and out, spiral continue, reaching my chest, and I feel her fingers, her hands, working.

Ever outwards, downwards. The top of my chest, the flanks. Further down, below my jigglies, down, and to the sides. Up and onto the mound, further and further up, the orchid. Up, in, round and round, spiralling, then in, inside, I know of it, but I can't make myself desiring her to stop. This is where I know no more.

Only now she finished, in between my legs and all the way back, slipping in, where she had not been, where I had never had anything, or anyone, yet, it is enjoyable. It's her, her fingers. Soft, gentle. Loving, caring. She slips out.

She placed me on another, regular bed.

“Time to sleep!” she told me.

“Ah, yes!” I responded, eyes already closed.

“Sleep tight. Sweet Dreams. By tomorrow, we'll know!” she stated, as I slowly drifted off, and into a deep slumber.

Then I'm fast asleep. The day at an end.

Revelation – Awakening: 2

Apparently, I had been nude all night. I'm usually wearing panties while I sleep. Only now, I had been asked, required to be nude. I had been told, that any clothes, garments or other objects in contact with my skin would distract me. I need nudity, in order for the dreams to reveal, what I need to know. I wanted to know, to move on. I need to know what bothered me, disturbed me, this is how to get in touch with my inner self, or it is what I had been told.

I had managed to slip the quilt off of me during sleep, some time in the night, more likely early than later?

I'm used to have a quilt on me, on top of the bed, just as I'm accustomed to wear my white panties and a matching top. I've been told, it is how we all were raised. Though I think the quilt is more than just that, it's a means of controlling your body heat, during the night.

I recall precious little about when I went to bed. I know I had been nude, naturally, which I still am. I could clearly feel this. I had had a massage, or I imagine that's how it had come down. Then, with the gel still on my body, it had apparently been absorbed by my skin fairly quickly. Close to instantaneously, I guess you could say.

With the quilt on, but entirely nude, I had then fallen asleep. I had been in the same room I am in now, or I imagine it was the same room. The details I do recall, indicate it is, since everything is exactly the way I recall from last night.

You may have expected a clinical all white room? What I had been given, is a room with green walls, almost as if I had been in a forest, or on a field of high grasses. Overhead, I could clearly see, what could pass for a clear blue summer's sky.

Matching the scene, the floor is a deep leaf green, such as the spring would commonly offer. The only furniture, a bed stand, on which to place clothes, glasses, or a book. Only I had neither on mine at this time. Maybe it is part of the treatment? I'm supposed to bare my innermost self, my hidden aspects.

Apparently, my head is still resting on a white pillow, I had not brushed it aside, like the quilt, now resting on the floor before the bed, on which I lay. I'm actually still on the top of the bed.

In the clear, but still dimmed down light, I can clearly see what had once passed for my right arm. Only now, I can see it is lemon yellow, a bright neon hue, as it were. Not only that, the arm, no longer looking like an arm of a girl at all. What I see, is the fore leg of a pony. A pony, such as I could have recognised from numerous films I used to love watching. The fact that I rarely had the time, watching them, these days. I guess I had merely suppressed the recollections?

Most of us girls used to love watching the films and playing with the plastic dolls. I never had an illusion as to what these dolls were, I still loved playing with them. The fact that they look like the characters in the films, is all I required back then. If they were highly unrealistic to some degree never stopped me, just as it never stopped any of my friends. Maybe it was the characterisation, or the cute looking ponies?

Only now, the characterisation had apparently surfaced, in my very flesh and blood. I guess it is fascinating. I never minded. I just had failed to realise, just how deep rooted this particular character was, in me.

Then the name surfaced. I'm 'Lemon Drop'. That's the body I am, and with that, I am her. Could you believe? I guess it is the character that struck me deepest?

Once I knew who I am, I had gathered my bearings, and my wits. Soon there after, I managed to slip out of the bed. My bed. This is after all my room.

Day Light: 3

I had been offered a breakfast, but most of what they had offered, I simply could not eat. Every time I was to take the first bite, I felt an odd, but very strong revulsion to something within what had been referred to, as food.

Whatever it had been, it wasn't agreeing with my stomach, if I actually persisted, I was feeling sick and soon it was coming back up, a disgusting mess. I had refused to even look at it, after that. Even if I had started to feel more and more hungry. I just couldn't eat what they served, no idea as to why?

I had managed to swallow an entire glass of water, just gulping eagerly and greedier by the gulp. I had not had any problem with the orange juice, or the apples, or carrots, as it were. There had been more vegetables, most of which went down fairly well in the end.

In the end, my appetite had proven pretty generous, for the girl I had been when I had been signed in. Maybe that's a bad comparison, when you look closer at what I had managed to consume, before I had finally come to finish my meal?

I had had a brief rest, before they stated to prod and examine me, taking all kinds of tests, cell tests, of everything that was available, skin, hair, and saliva, for a good starter.

I had then been submitted to other tests, not quite as invasive. The tread mill, a stationary bike, while measuring both heart rate, respiration, bodily temperature and the EEG, from what I recall, I could have mixed it up, forgotten, or added something?

Apparently, I had managed to fare pretty well, even if the values acquired, were well out of the expected range, either up, or down the scales? It just made no sense. Maybe something was terribly wrong, or they had simply picked the wrong expectations? What were they actually comparing with?

From what I think I understand, from what I had overheard, my blood pressure and heart rate were way below anything they could make sense of. I guess this amused me no end, as I looked at their faces.

I had been submitted to the test, once more, just in order to validate what they had found, but to no avail, it all still stayed out of their grasp. Even if my respiration had moved up slightly, mainly due to the prolonged and intensified exertion I had been experiencing. Which I guess was to be expected?

Then I had a new test, just before I had been allowed my lunch. The new tests had been repeated. Each and every one, in the same order. They had felt forced to repeat the exercise, just to validate, and the result was the same. Maybe the heart rate had gone down, slightly, at the pre lunch trials? Aside from that, nothing had changed, not in the least.

Thankfully, lunch went better, while all the failures had been stricken off of my list. I was not to be served anything containing what I had not managed to eat. Apparently, only vegetables are on the list of available food? I could live with it, I enjoy the taste, I like eating them. Yeah, eating. I couldn't help myself, giggling at the thought.

Just after lunch, I had been submitted to a new round of tests, how unexpected? They repeated it, for 'Validation', as they had expressed it. That's the luck of my day?

Movement had not particularly been impeded, thankfully. Though the bike felt strange to me. I like, what I look like, and how it feels, in general. No real exceptions either. I just feel good, about a great deal of things, in general.

The one downer, I couldn't wear any of my old clothes, not a single one of them. I guess I could have new once created for me, even if it was to come at a cost?

Guess what, they had promised me a massage, just before bedtime. I had been ecstatic, I love how she made me feel, back at the day before. How could I protest? I had even been promised, it was the very same girl. That made me even more excited.

Like a Horse: 4

She had been true to her word, she certainly did give me that massage last night, and I had enjoyed it royally, I could admit to that much.

I had enjoyed every instant of her treat. She had done wonders for me. Maybe this massage had been uncovering more of my problems than it had been intended to. I now know I am an extremely tactile filly, and I must assume I had been just as tactile as the girl who came here. The girl my parents brought here, just the other day, or the day before that. It made no difference to me at this point.

I know my dreams had bothered me, confused me, scared me and haunted me. What if this was the true cause of my problems?

As I woke up, it feels as if I recall most of the dream. If it had been the same dream each and every time. Each and every night, I can't say. What I could say, is what the dream had told me. I had been a pony this time, if I had before, I can't say. I guess I had been last night too, since I'm still a pony in the flesh. It had been what they had told me, and how they explained the treatment.

Right now, I know where I need to go, I have a date with a large breakfast. I'm not going to be late. From what I recall, I'm not eating them out of the house since my feed hardly could be all that expensive?

There is another thing going for me, I can finally explain the things that bothered me. Maybe that was to come as a shock to me. Only when I came to the breakfast, I was struck by a surprise, my favourite show was just about to begin. I apparently had a new episode to enjoy while I was eating.

The table packed with large bowls of different vegetables, all delicious looking. Not just apples and carrots, but also salad to mention but the few that came to mind. There is both water and juice in the pitchers as well. Maybe this shouldn't have been such a great surprise with both the massage and the tests I had gone through.

I did not bother taking the time to identify each and every vegetable on the table, but allowed myself to enjoy them as I bite into them in turn, trying a little of this and a little of that. Feeling the juices of the various fruits and vegetables blend as they slowly flow down my throat, making me filled up, little by little. Until I had had my fill, leaving very little on the table.

Speaking came natural, nothing had changed me in any manner in order to prevent me from it. It isn't as if I had forgotten how to speak, or lost my vocal cords during the changes that came over me during the night. The one thing that had changed, is my body. I'm no longer the girl I had been, but a pony. I guess it may be a bit of a surprise to my parents. Who would not have been shocked by my physical changes. Considering that I haven't changed anything, aside from my body.

“Thanks for the breakfast, I sure did enjoy it!” I pronounced carefully.

Understanding spoken words had been no challenge, but pronouncing them was new to me in my new form. As the magic of it all had it, the adjustment came easily to me. I adapted fairly easily and quickly, with just a little bit of effort on my part. All it takes is practice and slightly more focus than I had been used to, before I had changed into my new self.

The one thing coming easiest to me is walking, trotting and galloping, or cantering. It is all part of being a pony. Ponies are quick to rise to their hooves and thus, so am I. I'm already very good at moving about in all the traditional gaits, as if I had been born to it.

What I had not realised, is that I do have another language too. If any of my fellow ponies had been here, they would have explained that it was referred to, as Equestrian. I have no use of it among people, or humans as I was to refer to them as.

Furthermore, I was starting to feel as if I really needed to get out. I was starting to feel cooped up, cramped, just staying indoors like this. I would also understand other ponies, even the once that are not of Equestrian descent, that is. I guess that would make sense.

Since I had memories of where things are, I slowly walked out. I just need to be back for the massage at dusk, but until then I felt more or less free to go as I pleased.

Going Out: 5

Finally, I had made my way out. Maybe I could ask them to have my meals outdoors?

Now things started to realign appropriately. I'm more at home with myself. Everything had started to feel right and real to me, finally.

“I'm going out. Hope you don't mind!” I pointed out, rather than asking.

I never really left them with the time to say a single word, either in confirmation or denial. I simply burst out. Galloping made me feel free.

Once I had realised who I was, the realisation had set me free. I am now liberated from what I had been, all the ill fitting notions and lies. I had never been meant to be the little girl I had been looking like. The body is but a husk of a lie. Why was I ever going along with it? I guess I never knew better, now I do.

I had informed them of my intent and made it into a coutsy. This was to make due, I had no further patience for just staying put. The pony I had turned into had no more of it, than I had had as the little girl I had been seen as.

As the pony I am, I had a need and desire for speed. There is only gallop in mind. I require the motion.

As a pony, I would be content with being referred to as a filly, if and when my name isn't known, or as a generalisation. I can no longer be referred to as a girl, that was part of the human I had been hidden away as. My soul is that of a pony, it is who I am, simple as that.

I had thankfully found a park on the back of the hospital, there even grew small groups of beautiful trees. I could feel the effort they had put into trimming the grasses all around me in my hooves as I move. I knew I am sensitive and tactile already, this is merely an effect of it. I could no longer deny who or what I am.

Once I had gotten out, I soon realised, just how much I enjoy feeling the wind in my mane and tail, if it is a breeze, or merely the effect of moving is all the same to me. What mattered is the way it affected me, how it feels. It all made me feel alive. Now I had to make good use of all the energy contained within the food I had just consumes.

Since I had gone out alone, I felt no need or urge to express anything or utter a single word. I did not need to make any vocalizations. Not right now. With that, I spare my breath.

Feeling the soft grasses under my hooves, the wind in my mane and tail and the sun on my back was all I really needed, right now. I need them right now, I couldn't wait.

I hear the wind in the foliage of the trees and the birds chirping. I wouldn't go as far as to call it singing. It isn't the bird song I would talk of.

The scent of freshly cut grasses and wild flowers, mixed in with the carefully selected vegetation they had so meticulously chosen for the back of the hospital fills me with joy. Maybe they had never intended for a pony to roam the fields behind this hospital, it is after all not a veterinarian. The scents agree with me just the same.

On the other hoof, I am not one of the horses big or small you would ride. I am an Equestrian pony. There are a few important differences, as similar as we may be to an ignorant human.

For now, I feel content with just getting out. Later, I will require the company of others. A pony or several would be great, right about the time I get out again.

During the meal, or the tests they constantly are running on me, I guess I don't mind. On the other hoof, while they are running all these tests, there is at least one human there to oversee the tests currently being run at any given time. While I am eating, there is also someone there to make sure I don't run out of food, while I am still hungry. They constantly monitor and guard me, throughout most of the day.

I hope I will be released from the hospital soon. I am getting bored by the constant tests, even if they do give me more than enough food to enjoy. I also love the park behind the hospital.

Maybe it would have been nice with someone, or some pony, other than the nurses, testers doctors and other staff of the hospital, someone to relate to and enjoy the company of. Even if my parents are here on the visiting hours, there isn't all that much fun in talking to anyone here.

Would I prefer a dog or horse passing by, maybe a few girls, even if they were patients of the hospital.

Maybe I could ask if there are any others to talk to?

As much as I love the place and what they have done for me, I need something more.

A Friend: 6

I had just enjoyed my breakfast, as I hear the sounds of hooves clopping against the floor. What was that? Another pony at the hospital?

Either way, I greeted the sounds as a promise. Something new, possibly even a friend, for the few days I expected to stay here at the hospital.

Apparently, this isn't just a new day like any other. It is my first chance to make a friend with another Pony, just like myself. It is what I saw before me, even if I had no idea as to who she was, or how her personality would be like. Just as I had no idea as to why she was here or how she was doing.

All I could see is a chance to meet a new Pony. From the sounds of it, she was bound to be well enough to talk to.

Since I had finished the meal, I ended up following the sound of hooves out of the building and out on the grasses on the back of the building, away from the road and openly public view. In the interest of making a good first impression I trotted slowly without trying to be either quiet or loudly announce my presence as I followed the Pony soon proving to be another fillie, just like myself.

Once I got my eyes on the fillie I had heard and consequently followed out I noticed her tan coat and her tail and mane in open tails, though green purple and red colours, almost like a limited rainbow.

She had not been trotting off all that fast, but now she was clearly slowing down, not that she sounded winded in the least. I concluded that the trot still had been good for her, just as the quiet privacy out of the view from people or prying eyes. I know I felt the same way. Even if I am comfortable with who and what I had proven to be all along, I may not particularly enjoy people or others staring at me. Maybe it is in part an equine thing, even if it wasn't exactly new to me.

She had been the first Pony I had seen or had the chance to follow, so I felt a bit of uncertainty in how to proceed, thus slowed down in order not to catch up too suddenly. From my own experience, I knew she was bound to have seen me approaching by now.

At this close a range, I noticed that she was looking reserved, uncertain and on the confused side. I just did not know why, maybe she could explain if I had the chance to ask her. Something made me want to know who she was and what had gotten her to the hospital in the first place.

Just a short distance from her, I moved to the right before I finally got close enough to have a good look at her. As I was about to overtake her, I turned towards her slowly and half by half faced her, looking at her. Then I stop on a distance that I hoped was just right to make her feel safe, I didn't want her to feel uncomfortable or threatened by me in any way.

“Hi, I am Lemon Drop, but call me Lemon!” I introduced myself in what I hoped she would see as a friendly greeting.

“Hi, Lemon. I am Clover Dusk, but call me Clover!” she responded.

“Nice to see you, Clover. Hope you had a good breakfast.

“Breakfast was okay, I can't complain. Then I just felt the need to get out of there and get some fresh grasses under my hooves and a breeze in my mane. Too much people and too little space indoors for me!” Clover responded.

“I think it is the best part of the day. Not just because they are not running any tests on me, but are serving on me. I ate like a horse, if you see what I mean!” I responded.

“Oh yeah, the tests. I never was fond of them either. I guess they are required in order for them to manage to help me, or us. I think it is what they told me when I came here. The day my parents signed me in, that is!” Clover pointed out.

“They are probably right, to a point. Just that it feels as if they would be done with all these endless tests. I know they had to repeat a few tests the first day. They claimed that they had to confirm the results or something like that. After that, they had to make new tests in order to monitor my progress and stuff like that. No wonder people hate or fear hospitals!” I concluded.

“I didn't like hospitals before I came here and I don't like them one bit more now than I did before!” she pointed out.

“The constant tests suck, but at least the food is good. Oh and the park behind the hospital seems to be fine as well, I realised. Even if that was first after I came here and changed!” I pointed out.

“I guess you are right, the food is the one excuse for staying her and not go out of my mind completely. The poor excuse for food they had at school and I guess it isn't that bad to have an excuse not to be in class either!” she responded.

“I guess I never could be comfortable at school, where I came from, but I wasn't comfortable in myself as the little girl I was at the time. That is why I came here in the first place. At least I am happier as a little fillie, than I was as a little girl!” I pondered.

“Guess I felt the same, back at school. Just that it doesn't quite feel like me, now either to me. I can't go back, but where should I go from here?” she reasoned.

“At least I know why I came here and what was wrong. I feel better, but where we are to move on from here is a very different story. Maybe their tests could help us move on?” I suggested.

“You are a very lucky Pony. Everything is confusing me. They refuse to make sense out of things here, not that it made all that much sense at school either, though. Right now, I just want out of here, I think!” she responded.

“Yeah, I am. Though I feel cooped up indoors, I feel a need to move. Maybe you would enjoy to have a good trot around with me?” I offered.

“That sounds about right!” she responded and slowly started to move forwards and managed to get into a slow trot.

“That feels better!” I declared.

“Yeah, it does!” she put forth.