Author's Note
Scratcher Ms. Trotter's POV
Treat is Prologue: 1
.
The girl who had previously presented herself as Diane Pie at the interview had followed me to the village she had called Ponyville. It looks like a quaint little farmer village to me as I arrive, but with Ponies everywhere, running every business in town. Guess I had not quite been prepared to see it in real life, even if she had mentioned it. I had expected to simply care for Ponies.
She had given me a skirt and a top to wear, claiming none would even bother looking twice. She had been right, none really looked at me. It is the same model of bikini she herself had been wearing as I first met her at the bar.
What I realised first now upon arrival is that they wear similar skirts, even if they call the top a vest. Ponies doesn’t have much to shop on their chests, but they are Ponies on all fours.
She had led me up the flight of stairs to where my new room would be. I see a long line of identical doors with just a plaque to make them stand out. I chose the last door on the right, only to notice the plaque changed as I placed my hand on it in order to open the door. Now I can see my name on it. From what I could read, it said Trotter in what she referred to as Equestrian. Every Pony can see I live in the room now. To my surprise, the letters are quite readable to me.
As I step over the threshold and enter the room, I find cherry wood panels covering the walls while the floor is covered with Beach wood. Cherry is beautifully pink, while the Beach is light tan to blond, chosen for the resilience. Apparently Ponies does like to know the floor will stand the test of time under constant clapper of their hooves, or it is my image of the situation. There is a window opposing the door, thus keeping the room light and comfortable during the day. There is also light in the ceiling, but I can’t figure out how that works.
On the right I found my bed, looking comfortable enough to me. To the left I have the shower, girl’s room and wardrobe all lined up. The shower is simple enough, almost identical to what I had expected. The walls are covered with white tiles. Apparently I have to stand up in the girl’s room. Once my orifices lines up with the utilities, I would find myself relieved, as she had expressed it. No fuzz or the likes. Nonetheless, there is still a sink where I can wash my hands, thankfully.
I found several sets of identical bikinis in the wardrobe. How they knew which colour or size I have, I have no idea; but assumed it is linked to the Magic that changed the plaque on my door to indicate that I live here now.
“I will be back in a moment!” Diane explained, just before she went down to leave me to get used to my new home.
.
“Thanks. I think I will have a shower!” I responded, before closing the door to my new room as I see her bounce down the flight of stairs as if she had been made out of rubber.
As I had closed the door behind me, I step right out of the skirt, incidentally including integrated panties as well and kick them up and slip it into the bin for clothes intended to be washed clean, only to pull my top of over my head, leaving it to the same fate on the top of the still small pile.
Once nude I walk over to the shower, opening the door and stepping right in. I just open the double glass doors and close them behind me, before activating the shower, instantly feeling hot water raining down, washing me clean within a few minutes but keeps enjoying the moment for a while longer. This is after all my first time here, I feel an urge to enjoy myself just a moment longer. She had never told me I had to be quick in the shower in the first place.
Once I had had my first shower in my new home, I walked over to the girl’s room, only to inspect it closer and see how the experience would be. Feeling the not quite so cold metal slip into my lower orifices is kind of unexpected and unaccustomed, but did not intrude as much as I had expected. After a moment I could relax more and feel the tension of fluids slipping out, while I couldn’t really feel the other part, mainly due to the tube bypassing the control entirely as well.
As I step off of the utility I feel clean, but test wash my hands of anyway, using the clear green bar of soap. I seem to have my items in the same green as the bikini I had been given before I moved in.
Once I had walked out of the girl’s room and to the wardrobe, I open the door once more and extract a skirt identical to the once I wore on the arrival. I slip into it comfortably and pull it all the way up, feeling the slick material hugging my entire hips tightly, but with next to no sense of pressure on my skin. As I lift up the skirt with my right hand and place my left hand on the mound I clearly feel my orchid through the soft and slippery material. In surprise I even feel my index finger slip into the orchid, slipping on the seemingly lubed surface of the glistering orchid. After I pulled my finger out and explored the front, I notice a similar effect on the rear between the cheeks as my finger enters the rear orifice more or less accidentally.
“Am I supposed to wear my skirt while I use the girl’s room too?” I think to myself.
Now I pull out a top, slipping it down my arms reaching for the ceiling. I feel the material eagerly slide down and all the way into place. Merely giving it a tentative tug in order to ascertain myself it was actually in place. I guess I am not certain, mainly due to a lack of experience with these new garments.
.
“You rang!” I hear Diana exclaim from outside the door, just as I closed the wardrobe.
Embarrassed, I hastily walk back to the door and open for her, only to see her slip into the small room with me and close the door behind herself.
“You are stunning!” she then complimented my looks.
“Thanks, Diane. They do feel a bit small, maybe a B-Cup? I thought I was a solid C-Cup before!” I pondered in response.
“My friend Rarity designed the Bikini, and my friend Twilly enchanted it to conform to your task at hand!” she giggled in response, pointing to the top, as if indicating I should give them a good grouping in order to get used to the new look and how they feel.
I instinctively lifted my hands as she suggested before I had the time to think, feeling the perfect orbs on the top of my chest, only to momentarily pull back in shock as I feel my large nibbles. I knew where they should be and that is exactly where I had found them, yet I had expected them much smaller than they are now. I had also expected the material to hide them, not emphasis them, not in any way this insistently excessive a manner.
Maybe I should get used to how sensitive my nibbles are and how small my jigglies are. The Ponies wouldn’t hoot at a large bust anyway, it isn’t in their range of exciting sites in the first place.
.
“You have an appointment. Allow me to guide you, Ms. Trotter!” Diane pointed out as I finished exploring my chest.
“Thanks, Diane. Since I am new here, I could make use of some help, finding my way around!” I responded cheerfully.
“Right this way, please!” she exclaimed; as she guided me through the door at the end of the hall, taking me up another flight of stairs.
“This is where you are going to be prepared for your new job as a Scratcher Girl in Ponyville. If you have been to a SPA, you may recognise the room. If not, just lean back and relax, this will be enjoyable. At least; that is what they all told me!” Pinkamena Diane Pie explained to me.
“I have a vague idea of what a SPA is, but I have never really had the opportunity to enjoy that treat!” I merely responded.
“She will start with a Manicure and Pedicure, then I think she will have to help you with your Mane too. We like you to look your best, you know!” Pinkie Pie explained simply but to the point.
“Oh. yeah. I think you cursory mentioned these before I accepted the job. I just have to get used to the Equestrian expressions, some of them feel a bit odd to me. Is it Lutus or Aloe?” I inquired.
“I am Aloe!” the girl entering the room stated, as she entered and overheard the question.
“Hiya, Aloe. I am looking forwards to experiencing the treat you are preparing for me!” I responded.
“That is the idea and why I am here. I commonly help Ponies to enjoy themselves, relax and to look their best. Should be no difference with you. At least, we Ponies find the job we excel in, then we know who we are. The SPA is where I work, I enjoy it because I am good at it!” she pointed out.
.
“If you have a seat by the desk to the right, please!” Pinkie pointed out.
I happily followed her and sat down where she indicated for me to go. I am still very excited by the prospects of a job and the promises Pinkie Pie gave me, even before I knew she was in fact a Pony. At the time, I just thought she was a somewhat eccentric girl interviewing me for a job like any other jobs. She may have told me I would be working with Ponies, but I missed any hint to what I am slowly realising I am going to do now.
“This is surprisingly comfortable!” I giggled, in response to Pinkie’s comment.
“I’ll be back in about an hour, or just about the time you are ready to see the first table downstairs, Ms. Trotter!” Pinkie Pie pointed as she slipped out of the room, bouncing merrily down the stairs, leaving a long series of squeaky bounces as she left.
“If you would kindly use this hand cream? Then I will start giving you the treat!” Aloe announced, as the door closed behind Pinkie Pie.
“Oh, okay!” I responded as I accepted the can, uncapped it and started extracting some of the clear gel it contains.
“It is thick, slippery and has a strangely rubbery and elastic feel to it!” I just commented; as I spread the gel over my hands, making sure none of the skin was uncovered and slowly kneeded it into my skin.
“The thickness is partially in order to make sure none is spilled anywhere where it isn’t desired to be. It is slippery in order to make sure your hands are not overheated in the process as your skin absorb enough to be saturated. This is required supplements for you to properly perform your assigned job, once I finished your treat!” she pointed out, straight to the point.
I kept rubbing in more of the gel and extracted more as the gel was absorbed. Eventually, my now sheeny skin smoothed out in a strange way, but does still look like my skin.
“Good, the skin has been fully saturated. Now I can start working, if you just place your hands on the table before you, palms down?” she instructed me in a professional manner, yet with a to me unaccustomed warmth to her voice.
As I did, she picked up my right hand and critically observed my fingertips. She uncapped a vial of polish and started to paint my short nails, making them glister in the sparse light. From the centre; right and left, right and left. She had apparently started from the top close to the rim, drawing the brush all the way to the tip, only to make a line from right to left and back along the tip of the thumb nail, before she repeated the process nail by nail. Naturally she started over with the left hands.
As she let go of my right hand I could already see how my usually thin and fragile nails grew thicker and longer, ending up an even inch in length. The result gave the effect of looking as if she had applied these perfect nail extensions, but made it feel as if they still are my nails. She made me assume it is what the polish had been intended to do. While she finished my left hand, I grinned as I observed my nails grow. The nails starts from just after the joint and to the side of the finger, crystal clear, but hard as steel to my excitement.
She capped the polish and picked up a new vial she uncapped before she started over with the tips of my fingers of the right hand. This time she started to paint the tip from the joint all the way down to the nail. The effect is a pad, kind of like that on the paws on a cat or dog. These are coarse, more shiny and incredibly sensitive to the touch. Something I will have to get used to, but imagine it would help me perform my work later on.
I once more look at my right hand, exploring her work as she finishes the work on my right hand. It is the tools with which I am going to perform my work, I could as well get used to these things. If there are any more exciting aspects of what gifts the Pony named Aloe is presenting me; who am I to complain.
This Pink mare with a blue to cyan mane is fascinating to see as she is working. I can as well get used to the expressions used in the modern Equestrian. I am going to be using it as well as experiencing it around me all day. Not that I am likely to care much, what the Ponies say or speak of as I work. Yet, I think I prefer recognising what I hear.
While I was stuck in my own thoughts, pondering my situation, she was uncapping a rather large can of gel, not too different from the one she instructed me to use a moment before. The clear gel feels exactly the same as she works it in, covering my right foot. I feel the gel slowly saturating my skin as she continue working. There is the small difference, this gel is for my feet, not my hands.
Pinkie Pie had explained enough of this for me to feel secure in what she was doing. She isn’t a sneaky person at heart. She had taken great pride in making me laugh, no matter what it takes to make me laugh. I had been smiling at numerous jokes she told me at the time. Even if she originally referred to herself as; Diane Pie. Strange how comfortable the name sounded back then.
The first effect the gel has on my feet is how it reform my nails as they turn into the basis of hooves of an Equine. Even as a bipedal, I will be walking on hooves, making the same kinds of noises as they are. I guess this would make them more comfortable with having me around. Slowly the foot change in pose and posture, turning into a hoof.
As she finished working my left foot, thus making it turn into a hoof, she went back to what now is my right hoof, polishing it just like she did with my nails. The effect is soon obvious enough as it gives a glistering sheen to the hoof, even if it gives it a more elastic feel to it, giving me a softer step than I would otherwise have had.
As she finished polishing my hooves, she picked up a semi clear cerise gel. As she extracted the gel with her right hand, before lifting my right hoof in her left hand, before carefully caressing the sole of the hoof with the gel. She certainly does have the touch, she was after all working at the local SPA of Ponyville for all these years before I arrived.
Of course I had to examine my hooves for myself, not so much out of not trusting her and the skills with which she performs her work in giving me this treat. I just felt compelled into exploring myself now before I was to make a living out of what she gave me. I like to know myself and my body to the best of my abilities. This included to touch and caress my hoof for good measure. Apparently, the hoof is just as sensitive as my foot ever were.
Now, only my mane remains untouched. That’s something she is about to change, just as Pinkie had promised me. Aloe opens the can and extract gel, before she spread it over my hair and works it in. I could feel her fingers all over my head as she performs her magic. Maybe I shouldn’t complain? It does feel pretty good, if I have to confess. I don’t actually feel it as my hair grows, but the effect is noticeable. After a while she cut my mane, giving me bangs, or is that a proper word in the current context among Equines? She finished of by braiding the mane behind my head in two solid, thick braids. To my surprise, the mane ended up a bright cerise. I guess that should look good. I have to conform with the local fashion, unless I am comfortable, sticking out. I couldn’t say I was looking forwards to the prospect. I am after all depending on the Ponies who enjoy me working here.
.
“I have finished the work. I hope you will enjoy your new looks. I intend to enjoy seeing you around, downstairs from time to time!” Aloe expressed, before she walked out of the room.
“You look great!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed as she was back, now in her natural Equine form as a Pony.
“Thanks, Pinkie. I hope I can perform as well as you expected when you brought me all the way to Ponyville!” I responded.
“You are quite welcome, silly. Besides, I am certain of that. If you can get used to living amongst us Ponyfolk, you will do quite well for yourself here. You are going to be available for work any time you show up downstairs as well. Ponies are going to choose to have you scratching them!” she declared.
