A Pink Back Doorby PonyessChaptersA Pink Prologue: 1Flashback: 2The over for tea Surprise: 3A Faustian Deal: 4Unexpectedly Expecting: 5A Visit of my Pen Pal: 6A Pink Prologue: 1Author's Note Pen Pall's POV A Pink Prologue: 1 I like mail, and I do get a fair share of it. Maybe I do my part in trade, having pen-pals, ordering stuff by the mail and having a few friends who live far away from time to time on business as they call it. It all mounted to me never really getting all that surprised if and when strange things came in the mail. The one thing being off with what I got this time is not what the small package does look like, even if the contents were a bit out of the norm, even for me. Getting packages and letters, aside from the occasional post-cards is common-place to me. I work hard to maintain the practice. Responding to the pen-pals and paying the bills when I order in. Not that I mind too much, I do enjoy having my mailbox filled up, even if not stuffed. The strange thing is when the package came in. this certainly isn’t the standard time for the mail to come, even for me. besides, they never came this late, maybe they liked to see me happy. Who am I to say? Who am I to complain? Upon reading the address from which it came, I learn that a Diana Pie had sent it to me, apparently. Can’t recall any by the name Diana, and Pie doesn’t sound as much as a name as a dish to me. Sadly, I never did make the connection, she had managed to disguise her true identity well, behind the middle name. Not that I knew who she is. What I found, once I had opened the package; tubes, pastries, lubes and an assortment of associated items. Is this a joke, or was she seriously expecting me to use these items? On the other hand, aside from the address on the outside of the package, there is nothing to indicate she expected me to pay her. I could certainly not find anything I could identify as a bill, or any other hint towards expecting to be paid. Not even a note; with or without message or numbers to any account where to send the expected funds. Each item did have a label, indicating what they were and how they were intended to be used. Most of which were merely small items moulded out of what appears to me clear, smooth and slippery rubber of some sort, elastic as I found it. “If it had not been for the lack of company logo, this could be some kind of sample, intended for me to try out for myself!” I told myself, quietly, with a strange but highly expectant smile growing on my lips. Of course the items does come with a manual, limited as it may be, explaining what the items are and how to use them, aside from the intended effects they were to have on the user and counterpart, in case one were to use them with another. “Back Door!” I read, pondering exactly what that could mean. “Maybe I could as well try it out for myself? It isn’t as if I had anything better to do, right now!” I pondered as I carried the collection from the kitchen table and all the way into my bed room. Once I had closed the door, I placed the package on my bed stand, pulling the cover off and glanced down into the box. After rummaging for a moment I picked up one of these back doors, looking tentatively on it for a moment and decided on trying it on, or in this case, rather in. It was after all intended to be fitted into my rear entrance, my rump. As I had stepped out of my skirt and slipped my panties off of me, kicked them up and slipped them both into a neat pile, I tentatively slipped the clear rubber in as it had been intended. It slipped in, just as easy as could have been expected, or ever hoped for. Once inside it was a very tight fit. It wouldn’t just slide out, before I actually pulled it out on purpose. This is the surprise, shortly followed by the shock, even if I guess the manual had stated the effect quite clearly. I just had not expected it. How or why could I, or should I expect it? What came next is the feel of clear and highly elastic rubber spreading out like a lube spill. Only this was but the first part, before I noticed the true and deeper effect of using this one tube, or back door. It isn’t just the effect of a rubbery tube inserted from behind, it is what the tube did to me, or made out of me. I soon found myself in the form of an anthropomorphic Pony. The Equestrian type; that is. I guess that is at the heart of the shock. Finding myself with these fancy, delicate hooves alone is one thing, but then I realised that my legs had changed proportions, making me look like that Pony. The next discovery is in my hands, how my fingers changed as my nails turned into these cute miniature hooves. I guess the clear, deep blue tail and how my hair changed into a matching mane was little surprise as it dawned upon me. The adorable equine ears almost slipped my mind, short of the detail; I could follow sounds in a manner I had never been able to, considering that my ears could twist in the more equine manner. Meanwhile, my vision widened considerably as well. Convenient and distracting, if you ask me. As my skin turned into a light pink coat, I soon sprouted a mark, accordingly. It is who I am. No, I certainly am not Pinkie Pie, nor am I Rainbow dash or Trixie. Maybe that is just as well. Of course, how could I have become either of them? I am an individual separate from them. I am unique, as far as it is possible. I have my own history and all these things. What did not change is my still green eyes. Maybe a regular green, for Human eyes, but they are part of who I am, even if I had become an anthropomorphic Pony of the Equestrian type. I still like, everything I used to like. Nothing truly changed about me and who I am, or was. Looking back, I noticed that I had a pen and a letter as a Mark, I seem to be Pen Pall, now. Should I be shocked or horrified? Why? It is still reflecting who I am. Besides, once I pull the tube, or Back Door out of my rump, I will turn back into my old self. Even considering the experience, the experiences the tube offered me. My new name and identity may not exactly be a job, but it is an integral, none-exclusive part of who I am, who and what I had always been. I guess it makes me special in a sense. Question is just why I had chosen this particular tube. Just as one may ask why it gave me the particular mark? I don’t know, and quite frankly, I don’t really care. As important as you may have seen it, it is now inconsequential to me. It is who I am and what happened. Why bother second guessing the past? Even if it may be an idea to question yourself and your actions on occasion. Like when you went down the wrong, dark back alley? It isn’t what happened. At least, I have no reason to think so right now. Maybe tomorrow? Since I am a mare, I still have all these delicate and delicious parts. Just think I need to explore them in order to see exactly where they are and how much fun they are in my current form. Using my right hand feels natural to me, I had always been the right handed girl, even if I am a mare right now. Turning into a Pony wouldn’t change who I am, and that is one of these details. The first thing I noticed and realised, is just how different my little hooves are, compared with my fingers the way they were as the girl. Yet, I soon found my now generous, smooth mound just where I had expected it. Then my equine orchid, strangely familiar, even after the changes. Equestrian Ponies are apparently mammalians, just like the Human I had been as a girl. With that I soon realised that my jigglies are a firm A cup, in the shape of a pair of Cup-Cakes, as opposed as the much rounder orbs my jigglies had been. Maybe some guys wouldn’t consider them quite the hooters as my former B cup orbs had been. Not something that bothered me, right now. I am not for their entertainment or joy by any means. Otherwise, my nibbles are roughly the same as they had been before. I guess I could enjoy them just the same as I had before. Thankfully, I am just as sensitive and excitable as I had been. I could clearly sense my hoof as it touched the orchid. Only now the excitement did not emanate from just this one small spot, it is the entire orchid, I learned. Checking my nibbles, they are just as sensitive as they had been too. The only difference is in the thing I stumbled across as I felt a surge, just before a slight squirt happened. Not what I had expected, but I guess it could be fun. I just had never been into it, if it was the lack of experience, but the idea had never bothered or repulsed me before, either. Flashback: 2Author's Note Pinkie Pie's POV Flashback: 2 ”You think Pen Pall will enjoy your package, Pinkie Pie?” Twilight Sparkle inquired. “Yes, of course she will. And not just because I send her a package by mail!” I responded. “Will she recognise you by name, when you signed it Diana Pie, or will it just make her confused?” Twilly continued. “Naeh, I doubt she will recognise it. Even if you know my middle name, it isn’t that widely known. At least, not outside Ponyville!” I pointed out. “I guess that was a clever ploy, Pinkie!” she responded. “Yeah, I guess it was. Since it was you, I did not even bother testing the enchantments you placed on these items. Besides, I know she will enjoy these. Now I will just have to put up a few more designs for you to enchant. Then Ditzy will be shipping them of, for others to enjoy!” I expressed. “I will do my best to make sure I can give you as many of these enchantments as you need, Pinkie, baring limitations imposed upon me by my schedule. Besides, Ditzy is a capable mail mare, despite all her other limitations and challenges. She is quite the enthusiastic mare, too!” she pointed out. “Oh yeah, being a Princess does impose a few limits on your time, Twilly. Yes, she certainly is. Guess this is part of why I love her so dearly. And she does take excellent care of her daughter Dinky, to!” I continued, smiling inwardly at the poor mare. “I am afraid so, but it doesn’t diminish my desire to help you out, any way and time I can, Pinkie. You of all Ponies would know this!” she prompted. “That is part of why I went to you in the first place, even if the small detail about you being the best, or only Pony to actually pull this through may have played a part too, Twilly!” I pointed out. “You seems to know everything, Pinkie. Particularly the things you are not supposed to know!” she exploded with mock indignation, thinking back to the time she came back from Canterlot High. “Right back at you in a Flash, but there are too many of Pinkie Pie, and not enough Parasprites? Either way, I know I will see you on our next meeting, Twilly!” I responded. “I will see you there too, Pinkie!” she returned with a smile as I slipped out the door. Of course I had enjoyed the conversation with Twilly, not just because she had performed the enchanting of the items I packed in small cardboard packages and slapped the address to individuals I expected to enjoy the surprise and gift, aside with my address on the opposite corner. With the address slapped on the front of the packages, I bounced off to Ditzy’s postal office, where I knew she was waiting, it is after all her office hour right now. “Hiya, Ditzy!” I exclaimed as I entered the small room where she sat waiting for her customers, hearing the chimes to go off as the door went up and once over as it slammed closed behind me. “Hiya, Pinkie. I take it you have something you need sent of to some Pony else out of town?” she responded with a grin all over her face. “Exactly. These packages need to be delivered to the addresses on the front!” I responded with a tentative smile in return. “I will slip them with the next deliver. First light tomorrow. Sounds right with you?” she put forth. “Yeah, that’s the stamps I slapped on the packages. Always a pleasure to see you, always the enthusiastic smile. And the delivery is always right, too!” I added jovially with a widening smile over my face. “The standard overseas stamps; that is quite correct, Pinkie. You are my best customer, by the stamp sales, aside from your generally friendly mood and how warmly you treat me in general!” she responded. “Considering how many friends I have, not just the once in Ponyville, I need to send mail extensively, and occasionally overseas as well. Besides, I can’t be mean, and not to such a nice Pony like yourself. I need to have a few enthusiastic and caring mares just like you around here. That isn’t just on account on your frequent muffins I bake for you, you know!” I responded. “Oh yeah, you do have more friends than most Ponies would even dare count. Even Unicorns of Canterlot, from what I heard recently. Of course I have to care for my daughter, and not just because she is the one thing keeping me up and enthusiastic. Even if your muffins does help me greatly, Pinkie. We do love you for providing them, just as we do love the muffins you bake!” she continued. “I always make sure to have a fresh batch of muffins around for when you come by, Ditzy. Both for you and your lovely daughter. Besides, I love having you over at the Sugar-Cube corner!” I put forth. “I’ll see you tomorrow, by breakfast time at the café, Pinkie!” she offered as I walked out of the office. “I am looking for it, Ditzy!” I responded as I opened the door. With that, I know that the packages will reach their respectively intended destinations. The girls living there would be surprised. Shock and joyful thrill would hit them as they opened their packages. In Equestrian terms, it would feel like the morning of Hearth’s Warming Eve, while they would say Christmas Day morning. Not that the words did make any difference to me. All I care about is the joy these girls would have, once their respective packages reached them, as they open their gifts and realised what fun they could have. why should there be anything more to it? The joy, the smile and the laughter is all I live for. I am after all the element of Laughter. Even if I had not seen the smiles or heard the laughters, I could move on towards the next goal, secure in the success. The girls will smile and laugh merrily as they are reached by what I had just sent their way. Maybe Ditzy could be quite the clutz and ditzy mare, but she is a good mail mare, just as she is very good with her filly. I don’t doubt or question her on these cases. The over for tea Surprise: 3I had just found a letter in the mail, and invitation from one of my friends. Naturally, I picked it up, carried it out to the kitchen and opened it, before reading. Just that I had no idea that it was from my friend, or that it was an invitation, while picking it up. It isn’t as if any of these things were readable on the envelope, even if the address of the individual sending it was on the opposite corner of my address, as customary. “Dear Anna Sheridan.. You are here by invited to my home at 17:50. Come alone, it is hot, so dress accordingly. Your Pen Pall, Marlene“ The formulation was feeling a bit on the strange side, but I recognised her handwriting and voice behind each and every word. “I will be there by then. I guess summer is considered hot. Pen Pall, I do know you enjoy writing, but now you are being silly, are you not? Either way, I will be there by the appointed time, rest assured!” I thought. Of course I knew she enjoyed my company, but Dear was a bit over the top, wasn’t it? Either way, I had chosen to accept the invitation and promptly knocked on her door, at the specified time. Just about as punctual as she was to expect from me, in any case. As I finally did reach her door, I wear nothing but a skirt and top, not even any panties. Just a pair of boots, though. For convenience, I am carrying everything I had with me in a minimal backpack. “Come in!” she offered as she opened the door. “Hiya!” I responded as I followed her into the hall, as she closed the door behind me. “You came. I see you did come hot as I could have been expected, the red suit fits you just right!” she then responded, leading me towards her kitchen. “It certainly is warm enough to feel just a little bit hot. Besides, I like this suit, knowing you would approve did not exactly hurt!” I responded as I followed her into her kitchen. Two cups already standing on the table, awaiting us. One on each side, before the respective chair. A small pot of hot water on the table. I could see the selection of teas on the table as well. She had already prepared for my arrival, but what to expect? She knew when I was expected to arrive. “A small gift for you, Marlene!” she proclaimed as she pointed at a small beige cardboard box by the cup, where I was sitting. “Thank you, Anna!” I responded as I picked up her welcome gift, then promptly opening it, only to find the tube intended for my rear end, the back door. Apparently I had not noticed the changes to her form, body or pose, which is why I had addressed her as her regular name. The name I had known her by, for ages. Just as I had not realised what the clear rubber tube was intended for, or what it was to do to me, once inserted. “I take it you are bare bottomed under your skirt!” she put forth, looking at me eagerly. “Of course. Wasn’t that implied in your wording, in the invitation?!” I responded. “Yes, that was the intent. If you pick up the tube?” she responded with a sly smile playing on her lips as she was about to guide me on the intended exploit. “Like this? I inquired as I attempted to follow the instructions, slipping a finger into the tube, but finding it strangely slippery and unexpected elasticity teasing my senses. “Yes. Now, if you lift up the front of your skirt with your free hand before slipping your hand in and insert the tube from behind!” she instructed me. “Oh!” I responded as I followed her instructions, feeling the tube enter eagerly, while stubbornly staying where it went in as I pulled my hand out from under the skirt. “By the way, call me Pen Pall, or Pen for short!” she suggested, pointing at the mark on her right flank with the free hand. “Pen? Why? Am I as hot as you had hoped? What is the idea with that clear rubber tube? That is what it is, right?” I responded, not sure of anything, right now. “Yes, that is me, thank you. I hope you will enjoy what I had in mind, what is about to happen in a moment. You see, I chose this individual tube with you in mind. You are going to be as hot as I could ever hope for. Now I just have to wait and see what your mark and name is!” she pointed out, with a mix of certainty and raving unsure giggles. “I can’t even feel the tube anymore. It is as if it had never been there. Mark?” I responded. “I thought as much. You see, I can’t feel mine either. You are not supposed to feel it more than the first instant after insertion, which you may have noticed; you were incapable of preventing, if you had tried!” Pen enlightened me. “You can’t even feel it, if you focus on it? I guess that is hot, if anything!” I responded. As I lift my right hand up to my face, palm up, I notice it had already turned a brilliant silicone white, and just as smooth, making up what was to pass for a suction cup, while the tips of my fingers had become miniature hooves, matching Pens, only mine are clearly a bright, iridescent pink. “There goes my carefully done manicure!” I observed. “And your do, mind you?” Pen teased as she saw the split bangs in the Unicorn style. Of course my mane is the same colour as my hooves. The res of the hair is hanging back in two lines of three thick braids, reaching all the way down to my now extensively plump rump, which incidentally makes it comfortable to sit in the chair. Just like Pen, I have a tail, mine in a matching pink hue, curling in curious, stylish manners, befitting my persona. “I like your mane, it fits you, and it is extremely hot, if you don’t mind me saying so?” she then complimented. “I guess it is me, in the manner of what the tube had been intended to interpret my personality and preferences? I may look like you, but all the aspects make us individually unique as Ponies, in the anthropomorphic form. You did choose it, right?” I responded. “Speaking of unique, I think you have a very special mark, an eight-sided stare with little Horse shoes in the rainbow spectrum at each ray of the star. Only with a pair of quills crossed behind!” she observed. “That is so pretty, what ever it is supposed to signify!” I giggled. “Yeah, that is actually quite pretty, now as you put it like that. On the other hoof, I think the manual stated that the tube, or backdoor would be integrated into you, for as long as you are the Equine form of the Back Door. You will only find it, when you intend to pull it out in order to reverse the effect. Only you can even find it, not even I can find yours, no matter how closely I was to examine you, or for how long I was trying!” she enlightened me, matter of fact. “Wait.. Pen!” I exclaimed, realising that I couldn’t remember her Civil or Human name; she is simply Pen Pal to me. “The quill isn’t the same as a pen, there is a significance to the differences in our marks!” I then concluded. “Yes, A Faustian Deal: 4Faust was supposedly the man who made a deal with the Devil. According to the story; he eventually died, of course. Incidentally, the creator of a show named My Little Pony is also named Faust. One could call it a kind of a Punny, if you can grasp the fun in this particular pun? My friend Pen Pal, whom I will hence forth refer to as Pen for short was given a gift by mail. Who it was from; a certain Diana Pie. I may not know it, but her full name is actually Pinkamena Diana Pie, commonly called Pinkie Pie by her friends, or simply Pinkie for short. This particular pink mare spends most of her time and efforts towards making her friends happy, smiling and laughing. A worthwhile goal and pastime, if you ask me. Of course; none ever asked me, if it is anything important. But what’s new? Pen, my friend chose to share the gift and its blessings with me. As she invited me to her home, showed me the gift and offered me to enjoy it with her. Of course, she had received more of these items; tubes and others, than she could ever make use of, all by herself. I guess I am just lucky, she chose to share the blessing with me. She could just as easily have chosen any other girl among her friends. Or; even a boy, if it was the name and face coming to mind for her. This comparison does have some shocking and frightening correlations to it. For one, in a sense you as the Human you were prior to inserting the tube known as the Back Door is dead and gone, at least for as long as the Back Door is in effect. While this rubber tube is in you, you are an entirely different self. Separate from whom you were as a Human. On the other hoof, once you extract said tube, the new persona could be considered dead and gone. Until such time as you once more slip your tube in. On the other hoof; since you can come back, you are not really dead. You can take the back door to whom you were prior to insertion or extraction at any given time. The more amusing and exciting detail is that your second self comes with her very own name, and a number of other interesting characteristics. The convenience is that none can make you extract, or insert the tube. this is in your personal control. You don’t actually lose time, while the other you is there, either, of course. Just as you don’t take any of the injuries inflicted upon you, in the other self. You can’t take an injury inflicted on your brother, so why now? It would be ludicrous and insane to suggest that your body should be damaged, just because your brother was? Of course, there are so many things to explore, and so much to learn about one’s self. Even if some of these details you learn are completely isolated to one side of you. If they are your original self, or the alternative, or altered self doesn’t really make any difference on that standpoint. Yet, you need to keep track of these details, in a very special and different sense. Not that you will recall what is irrelevant to your separate selves. The original Human self will only remember what is relevant to her, while your alter Ego will remember these things instead of what you do as a regular Human girl. Naturally, I have learned a few rather radical differences to my self in my alternative form. Not so much the details you can clearly see, when you look at me, but the things about my internal body. If this has anything to do with the Equine form, or if it is just a curious detail in the design, but I can find the interior of my womb from behind as well, not just from the regular path through the orchid. I guess a designer could find it fun, hilarious and even exciting. At least, some male designers sure would. Yet, I came to terms with it as a mere curious detail as an Equine and Pony. On second thought, I guess it does make sense on a very different level. The tube was called a Back Door. As a back-door, it is an entry from behind. Why, and what ever gave who ever designed it this idea, I have no idea. I guess I really don’t care. Yet, there is a chilling notion gnawing on the back of my head; telling me that the design was not quite as complete and perfect as one had been led to believe. What if I was creating it as I inserted the tube from behind, as my friend Pen had told me to? Maybe the general details, like the outer Equine characteristics were the design. What if the interior details are still all my creation, conscious or not? This may be a strange to unsettling sensation, particularly at first; yet I did get used to it. Feeling the slick rubbery tube with my bare fingers, the slippery surface barely affording me any friction or resistance at all. Then it hit me, upon arousal the rubber grows coarse and is coated with a thick gel lubrication that has a weekly negative friction. I found it strangely exciting to explore, once I got into it. Not to complain, but the sensitivity is a bit over the top. I can never claim that it is uncomfortable in any way, but it is distracting and makes it hard to pull out of the moment if something calls for my attention with the acute sensitivity I have as I am excited. Looking closer at it, I had also noticed just how seductively delightful Pen is tasting, when I first explored this with her. Just feeling her coarse rubber coated with thick gel that refused to smear or slide out of the way. How does one put a finger to it all? Another interesting change is the tendency towards lactation upon specific stimuli to my now large nibbles. I can’t say that it is uncomfortable or discomforting in any way, just one of the chance distractions that came with the change. I do enjoy the feel it gives me as well how it feels as I do it. Unexpectedly Expecting: 5Author's Note Pen Pal's POV Unexpectedly Expecting: 5 Knowing that I had been sexually functional all along changed nothing. I had had no such problems in the past. Only there are a few side effects to the change on the subject. One of which led to me finding my self pregnant and expecting a birth in just under a year. Of course, this gives me tons of details to write to my friends about. Even if I guess I will eave out most of the details, particularly the more private and intimate of them. I am not going to say when how or with whom I am expectant. Why? Do they realy have to know? It feels much too private to go into, at this point. I had always been the Pen Pal to all my penpals, I guess, but now I am Pen Pal in a different way. It is my name, securely expressed and proven by the mark on my flanks. There is no denying it. Not that I ever cared to. Being a Pen Pall is one thing, now I am the Pen Pall. I had found a new drive in writing my mail, including the friends by mail. Of course, it had taken me a while to notice, to realize that I had been pregnant. These things do take time, after all. The impregnation takes a few days, all by itself. Then it takes more time before the effects on my body is noticeable enough for me to pick up on. Maybe this is for the better, at least in my case. On the other hoof, how great it would be to know instantly, if you wanted to avoid the pregnancy. Just as I guess it would have been great to have an early heads up, if you were actively trying to be pregnant in order to have your first child, or foal in my case. Right now, it is just a joyous occasion. I am cheerfully looking forwards to having her with me, while I am expecting to enjoy the process from the instant of realization, all the way to the instant of birth. I am going to feel the life growing inside within my very own body as a bond is building up and growing between me and the growing foal. Once it had sunk in, I am expectant and looking forwards to what is before me. I guess it is only natural to a mother. It isn’t as if I had any known ailment that could jeopardize me or the foal. Just as I have nothing in my life that would be a burden on my motherhood. No plans to get in the way. I am the Pen Pal, and as such; this is just another news to tell all my friends about. Even if I may choose to filter out some details to some. The once I know they are not enjoying, or if it feels too personal and private to include in the next letter. Not all will be as jubilant as I already am. I spare them what they don’t need to know. Even if I may have to explain that I am pregnant, and that I am expecting my first foal in the eleven months from now. There is the one small detail that never did change; that can never be changed. I am still Pen Pal. It is who I was, and who I am, just as I will remain. Maybe I had been a Pen Pal even before, but now it turned into who I am, it is my identity. Did I ever want to change it, or become anything more or different? Maybe I could have imagined it before. Yet, now it is what I am, I can’t see myself as anything but that one Pen Pal. Why bother trying to imagine anything else? I like having friends, and write letters to them, knowing they write letters back to me. I don’t mind having a few friends close by, close enough to actually see them face-to-face or even sharing my bed with them. Maybe part of this is in being the Pony, even if I am an anthropomorphic one at that. Funny, I never ever tried to pull out the back door; that little rubber tube from my rear entrance. Why? Why bother? I never did it, and it seems I never will. Why? I guess you are the only one to ask, to ponder the possibility. Why don’t you try to pull it out, to extract it for me? Or, at least extract your own? I can’t help you on this point. It simply isn’t my place. I can’t, I am entirely incapable to pull it out or even touch your little tube in the first place. It is the way of things and the way I like it to be. Okay, right now I would be worrying about my pregnancy. Would it change anything in this? How would it affect the foal within me right now, if I were to extract the tube, the back door? What if it would mean the same as if I had had an abortion? I certainly couldn’t have that. I can’t even imagine doing this. Or, if she would no longer be my foal afterwards? Would she be changed in the same manner as the tube, or in this case; the extraction of the tube is affecting me? Could I slip that back in and see her revert to what she was before I extracted my tube? Maybe you could live with that? I just can’t take the risk of losing my foal. My one and only foal. Maybe I am not a gambler? I just don’t take this kind of chances. Even if I did take the chance as I inserted the tube from behind on my own? Yet, then I had the word of a friend, backing up the decision. I trusted her, and I still do. I can’t say I regret it now. I like my foal the way she is, and I like the way I am now. I don’t feel the need to change, or an urge to even try to explore anything more now. I enjoy writing letters to my numerous friends all over the globe and beyond. A Visit of my Pen Pal: 6Author's Note Cherries's POV A Visit of my Pen Pal: 6 A friend of mine, whom I know only as Pen Pal had invited me over to her place. Initially I had been worried, but in the end I had found myself ecstatic about the invitation. She had included her very own address, to the apartment in which she is currently living. Maybe this is what had made me suspicious in the first place. Yet, she had offered me to meet up with a friend of hers at a local café, where we could have a chat in the open, before I was to follow her home. I guess it is what eventually sealed the deal for me. Of course she knew what she was offering me, just as she knew full well what she was doing. She just did not let on all the details for some reason. Maybe she just wanted me to have all the excitement from the exploration of myself, the changes and how it would affect me in the long run. I guess I was to appreciate the gesture for what it is worth and the good intentions behind it. of course the changes are quite limited, but will mold me into a new image of me as the new form it is making me into. Some of the changes were inevitable, once the gift had been given. Just that the details are going to follow my personality. It is not changing me as deeply as one may have expected, after all. Of course I found her at the café, just as I had been expecting. She is sitting exactly where she had promised me. Her friend is just as eye popping as she is, when I found her. Her description left little to nothing to the imagination, there is no chance I could mistake her for anyone else. On the other hand, how do I mistake a regular girl for the Anthropomorphic mare I found siting where she had promised to be? Her friend in the same form only made it overly obvious. “Hiya, I am Pen Pal!” she had presented herself. “I have a little gift for you!” her friend extended as she passed me a small package. “Thank you!” I had responded. Of course it was just as open a place as she had promised me in the last letter. I had followed my old friend by the name of Pen Pal home to her apartment. I guess it does look much the way I had expected, not all that different from any other home. Naturally, her friend had followed us, and made us company as she invited me into her home. “Now, if you open the present?” Pen suggested. “Oh, why not?” I had responded, just before I opened the box and extracted the gift I had so recently been given. “Uh, what exactly is it?” I had inquired as I saw the clear rubber tube, elastic, yet glistering as if it was wet. “It is a tube, a Back Door. Just slip it in from behind and explore the rest. I am afraid I can’t explain this. You just have to experience it for yourself!” she pronounced. “I am sure you will enjoy it, but feel free to use the mares’ room. I think you will appreciate the privacy!” her friend added generously. “Okay. Wait, you mean I will have to be nude when I insert the tube?” I responded as I followed her direction and closed the door behind me. “Naturally!” she merely responded with no further explanation. With that, I slipped out of my top and skirt, piling them on the floor. From there I continued to slip out of my panties and pull my socks off of my feet. I look curiously at the minimal rubber toy, such as it is in my hand. After a minute of consideration, I placed it on the index finger of my right hand and inserted it from behind, just as she had told me. I pulled out my finger from the rear entrance, pondering what it was supposed to do to me. The first thing I noticed is how the skin of my mound stretched outwards as the internal flesh expanded in order to make a very generous mound. Only then I noticed how it grew shiny until I could see it glister vividly in the light of the small room. At the same time, my orchid grew darker and tightened up to little more than a black line, as thick as it turned out. I could see how it grew shiny and soon got a wet look, glistering. What I had failed to see is how my rear entrance grew dark and shiny, ending up pitch black and glistering, just as my orchid. Naturally, it had also tightened up, just like my orchid. My rump had grown plump and firm at the same time. Now I notice that my skin changed, turning into what was to pass for shiny white rubber. My thighs grew shorter and my feet considerably longer. Then my toes grew into what could only be taken for a pair of hooves. As I bend forwards, I see the glistering black rubber making up a pair of glistering black suction cup hooves of an Equine look. As I lift my right hand to my mound, I found it slightly wet, covered in some kind of a thick gel. The rubber underneath is slick, slippery. I feel the elastic skin under my fingers as I keep probing myself in an attempt of exploration. I also feel the flesh under the skin pressing firmly. As my fingers reach the orchid, it is stiff, and had already contracted instinctively at the instant of contact. I can’t control it. Yet, the coarse rubber is covered with even thicker and more slippery gel, giving me the impression of excitement and being wet. Maybe the association is hard to impossible to resist, yet I continue to press on. I notice how easy it is to slip in a finger, almost as if I had been incapable to prevent the insertion, just as I am incapable of rejecting it after it had slipped in. Once I had slipped in another finger, I notice just how elastic my orchid is. On that note, the sensation of being wet continued as far as I could probe with just my fingers. By now my entire body is covered with the same white skin, glistering and shimmering in a hue of pink to cerise. This is quite the contrast to the black rubber of my hooves and my orchid. I now place my left hand on my chest, feeling the form of a firm rubbery Cup-Cake. Only there is a bright metallic bloody red cherry on the top of it. To my surprise, it is the same course and covered with a thick gel, making it immensely sensitive to the touch. Just as I soon realized just how excitable it is. On a chance estimation, I would guess that I had turned into a solid B-Cup. I guess that is something I could be comfortable with. Just enough to cover with a cupped hand, no more and no less than that. Why would I need more, or less? When I say cherry, I guess that is to the point, even if they are very large Cherries. I chose to tease them by both stroking and pulling at them. Maybe I should cut this short, before I scream? Once I had pulled my right hand out, and placed it on my face I find a minimal muzzle to go with my hooves. It is clearly Equine in nature. My eyes had slipped to the right and left, ending up at the respective corners of my face which incidentally gave me a wide panorama vision. My ears had grown pointy and moved up to the top of my head. As I look into the mirror, I found an Equine face, but one of these Anthropomorphic once. I guess I could go well with my friends. Only now I could clearly see my right hand, holding it up on my face before me as I look into the mirror. My nails had grown to about an inch in length, covering the entire tip of the respective finger in a semi square shape, maybe two millimeters thick. Each nail reaches from just about the last joint of the finger, but under it I find a pink to cerise sensitive pad, almost like the once of your average pet, like a Cat or a Dog. I noticed that my lips had grown rather full to the border of plump, while being uncustomarily narrow, the same red as nibbles and nails. The palm of my hand looks and feels like a suction cup. Utterly smooth and a pure silicon white. If I had slapped a hand on the wall, I would have heard a curious squeaking noise and felt how it would hold on to the smooth surface. Maybe it is good that I was never tempted into trying out the trick, just in case I would have been incapable of pulling my hand free from the wall; as unlikely as such an incident should have been. As I look down, I suddenly noticed something I had never truly expected to see; on my flanks, I have a pair of cherries, with the twin branch and the green leaves to go with them. Whatever this could possibly mean; but it has a clear link between my personality, and who I am. “Cherries!” I breathed, in excitement. “Uh, Pen; why do I have Cherries on my flank, and what does it all mean?” I inquired; as I had unlocked the door, and emerged from the mares’ room. “The Cherries is your Cutie Mark, the mark that identify all Ponies. My dear Cherries, this does call for celebration!” Pen responded.
A Pink Prologue: 1Author's Note Pen Pall's POV A Pink Prologue: 1 I like mail, and I do get a fair share of it. Maybe I do my part in trade, having pen-pals, ordering stuff by the mail and having a few friends who live far away from time to time on business as they call it. It all mounted to me never really getting all that surprised if and when strange things came in the mail. The one thing being off with what I got this time is not what the small package does look like, even if the contents were a bit out of the norm, even for me. Getting packages and letters, aside from the occasional post-cards is common-place to me. I work hard to maintain the practice. Responding to the pen-pals and paying the bills when I order in. Not that I mind too much, I do enjoy having my mailbox filled up, even if not stuffed. The strange thing is when the package came in. this certainly isn’t the standard time for the mail to come, even for me. besides, they never came this late, maybe they liked to see me happy. Who am I to say? Who am I to complain? Upon reading the address from which it came, I learn that a Diana Pie had sent it to me, apparently. Can’t recall any by the name Diana, and Pie doesn’t sound as much as a name as a dish to me. Sadly, I never did make the connection, she had managed to disguise her true identity well, behind the middle name. Not that I knew who she is. What I found, once I had opened the package; tubes, pastries, lubes and an assortment of associated items. Is this a joke, or was she seriously expecting me to use these items? On the other hand, aside from the address on the outside of the package, there is nothing to indicate she expected me to pay her. I could certainly not find anything I could identify as a bill, or any other hint towards expecting to be paid. Not even a note; with or without message or numbers to any account where to send the expected funds. Each item did have a label, indicating what they were and how they were intended to be used. Most of which were merely small items moulded out of what appears to me clear, smooth and slippery rubber of some sort, elastic as I found it. “If it had not been for the lack of company logo, this could be some kind of sample, intended for me to try out for myself!” I told myself, quietly, with a strange but highly expectant smile growing on my lips. Of course the items does come with a manual, limited as it may be, explaining what the items are and how to use them, aside from the intended effects they were to have on the user and counterpart, in case one were to use them with another. “Back Door!” I read, pondering exactly what that could mean. “Maybe I could as well try it out for myself? It isn’t as if I had anything better to do, right now!” I pondered as I carried the collection from the kitchen table and all the way into my bed room. Once I had closed the door, I placed the package on my bed stand, pulling the cover off and glanced down into the box. After rummaging for a moment I picked up one of these back doors, looking tentatively on it for a moment and decided on trying it on, or in this case, rather in. It was after all intended to be fitted into my rear entrance, my rump. As I had stepped out of my skirt and slipped my panties off of me, kicked them up and slipped them both into a neat pile, I tentatively slipped the clear rubber in as it had been intended. It slipped in, just as easy as could have been expected, or ever hoped for. Once inside it was a very tight fit. It wouldn’t just slide out, before I actually pulled it out on purpose. This is the surprise, shortly followed by the shock, even if I guess the manual had stated the effect quite clearly. I just had not expected it. How or why could I, or should I expect it? What came next is the feel of clear and highly elastic rubber spreading out like a lube spill. Only this was but the first part, before I noticed the true and deeper effect of using this one tube, or back door. It isn’t just the effect of a rubbery tube inserted from behind, it is what the tube did to me, or made out of me. I soon found myself in the form of an anthropomorphic Pony. The Equestrian type; that is. I guess that is at the heart of the shock. Finding myself with these fancy, delicate hooves alone is one thing, but then I realised that my legs had changed proportions, making me look like that Pony. The next discovery is in my hands, how my fingers changed as my nails turned into these cute miniature hooves. I guess the clear, deep blue tail and how my hair changed into a matching mane was little surprise as it dawned upon me. The adorable equine ears almost slipped my mind, short of the detail; I could follow sounds in a manner I had never been able to, considering that my ears could twist in the more equine manner. Meanwhile, my vision widened considerably as well. Convenient and distracting, if you ask me. As my skin turned into a light pink coat, I soon sprouted a mark, accordingly. It is who I am. No, I certainly am not Pinkie Pie, nor am I Rainbow dash or Trixie. Maybe that is just as well. Of course, how could I have become either of them? I am an individual separate from them. I am unique, as far as it is possible. I have my own history and all these things. What did not change is my still green eyes. Maybe a regular green, for Human eyes, but they are part of who I am, even if I had become an anthropomorphic Pony of the Equestrian type. I still like, everything I used to like. Nothing truly changed about me and who I am, or was. Looking back, I noticed that I had a pen and a letter as a Mark, I seem to be Pen Pall, now. Should I be shocked or horrified? Why? It is still reflecting who I am. Besides, once I pull the tube, or Back Door out of my rump, I will turn back into my old self. Even considering the experience, the experiences the tube offered me. My new name and identity may not exactly be a job, but it is an integral, none-exclusive part of who I am, who and what I had always been. I guess it makes me special in a sense. Question is just why I had chosen this particular tube. Just as one may ask why it gave me the particular mark? I don’t know, and quite frankly, I don’t really care. As important as you may have seen it, it is now inconsequential to me. It is who I am and what happened. Why bother second guessing the past? Even if it may be an idea to question yourself and your actions on occasion. Like when you went down the wrong, dark back alley? It isn’t what happened. At least, I have no reason to think so right now. Maybe tomorrow? Since I am a mare, I still have all these delicate and delicious parts. Just think I need to explore them in order to see exactly where they are and how much fun they are in my current form. Using my right hand feels natural to me, I had always been the right handed girl, even if I am a mare right now. Turning into a Pony wouldn’t change who I am, and that is one of these details. The first thing I noticed and realised, is just how different my little hooves are, compared with my fingers the way they were as the girl. Yet, I soon found my now generous, smooth mound just where I had expected it. Then my equine orchid, strangely familiar, even after the changes. Equestrian Ponies are apparently mammalians, just like the Human I had been as a girl. With that I soon realised that my jigglies are a firm A cup, in the shape of a pair of Cup-Cakes, as opposed as the much rounder orbs my jigglies had been. Maybe some guys wouldn’t consider them quite the hooters as my former B cup orbs had been. Not something that bothered me, right now. I am not for their entertainment or joy by any means. Otherwise, my nibbles are roughly the same as they had been before. I guess I could enjoy them just the same as I had before. Thankfully, I am just as sensitive and excitable as I had been. I could clearly sense my hoof as it touched the orchid. Only now the excitement did not emanate from just this one small spot, it is the entire orchid, I learned. Checking my nibbles, they are just as sensitive as they had been too. The only difference is in the thing I stumbled across as I felt a surge, just before a slight squirt happened. Not what I had expected, but I guess it could be fun. I just had never been into it, if it was the lack of experience, but the idea had never bothered or repulsed me before, either.
Flashback: 2Author's Note Pinkie Pie's POV Flashback: 2 ”You think Pen Pall will enjoy your package, Pinkie Pie?” Twilight Sparkle inquired. “Yes, of course she will. And not just because I send her a package by mail!” I responded. “Will she recognise you by name, when you signed it Diana Pie, or will it just make her confused?” Twilly continued. “Naeh, I doubt she will recognise it. Even if you know my middle name, it isn’t that widely known. At least, not outside Ponyville!” I pointed out. “I guess that was a clever ploy, Pinkie!” she responded. “Yeah, I guess it was. Since it was you, I did not even bother testing the enchantments you placed on these items. Besides, I know she will enjoy these. Now I will just have to put up a few more designs for you to enchant. Then Ditzy will be shipping them of, for others to enjoy!” I expressed. “I will do my best to make sure I can give you as many of these enchantments as you need, Pinkie, baring limitations imposed upon me by my schedule. Besides, Ditzy is a capable mail mare, despite all her other limitations and challenges. She is quite the enthusiastic mare, too!” she pointed out. “Oh yeah, being a Princess does impose a few limits on your time, Twilly. Yes, she certainly is. Guess this is part of why I love her so dearly. And she does take excellent care of her daughter Dinky, to!” I continued, smiling inwardly at the poor mare. “I am afraid so, but it doesn’t diminish my desire to help you out, any way and time I can, Pinkie. You of all Ponies would know this!” she prompted. “That is part of why I went to you in the first place, even if the small detail about you being the best, or only Pony to actually pull this through may have played a part too, Twilly!” I pointed out. “You seems to know everything, Pinkie. Particularly the things you are not supposed to know!” she exploded with mock indignation, thinking back to the time she came back from Canterlot High. “Right back at you in a Flash, but there are too many of Pinkie Pie, and not enough Parasprites? Either way, I know I will see you on our next meeting, Twilly!” I responded. “I will see you there too, Pinkie!” she returned with a smile as I slipped out the door. Of course I had enjoyed the conversation with Twilly, not just because she had performed the enchanting of the items I packed in small cardboard packages and slapped the address to individuals I expected to enjoy the surprise and gift, aside with my address on the opposite corner. With the address slapped on the front of the packages, I bounced off to Ditzy’s postal office, where I knew she was waiting, it is after all her office hour right now. “Hiya, Ditzy!” I exclaimed as I entered the small room where she sat waiting for her customers, hearing the chimes to go off as the door went up and once over as it slammed closed behind me. “Hiya, Pinkie. I take it you have something you need sent of to some Pony else out of town?” she responded with a grin all over her face. “Exactly. These packages need to be delivered to the addresses on the front!” I responded with a tentative smile in return. “I will slip them with the next deliver. First light tomorrow. Sounds right with you?” she put forth. “Yeah, that’s the stamps I slapped on the packages. Always a pleasure to see you, always the enthusiastic smile. And the delivery is always right, too!” I added jovially with a widening smile over my face. “The standard overseas stamps; that is quite correct, Pinkie. You are my best customer, by the stamp sales, aside from your generally friendly mood and how warmly you treat me in general!” she responded. “Considering how many friends I have, not just the once in Ponyville, I need to send mail extensively, and occasionally overseas as well. Besides, I can’t be mean, and not to such a nice Pony like yourself. I need to have a few enthusiastic and caring mares just like you around here. That isn’t just on account on your frequent muffins I bake for you, you know!” I responded. “Oh yeah, you do have more friends than most Ponies would even dare count. Even Unicorns of Canterlot, from what I heard recently. Of course I have to care for my daughter, and not just because she is the one thing keeping me up and enthusiastic. Even if your muffins does help me greatly, Pinkie. We do love you for providing them, just as we do love the muffins you bake!” she continued. “I always make sure to have a fresh batch of muffins around for when you come by, Ditzy. Both for you and your lovely daughter. Besides, I love having you over at the Sugar-Cube corner!” I put forth. “I’ll see you tomorrow, by breakfast time at the café, Pinkie!” she offered as I walked out of the office. “I am looking for it, Ditzy!” I responded as I opened the door. With that, I know that the packages will reach their respectively intended destinations. The girls living there would be surprised. Shock and joyful thrill would hit them as they opened their packages. In Equestrian terms, it would feel like the morning of Hearth’s Warming Eve, while they would say Christmas Day morning. Not that the words did make any difference to me. All I care about is the joy these girls would have, once their respective packages reached them, as they open their gifts and realised what fun they could have. why should there be anything more to it? The joy, the smile and the laughter is all I live for. I am after all the element of Laughter. Even if I had not seen the smiles or heard the laughters, I could move on towards the next goal, secure in the success. The girls will smile and laugh merrily as they are reached by what I had just sent their way. Maybe Ditzy could be quite the clutz and ditzy mare, but she is a good mail mare, just as she is very good with her filly. I don’t doubt or question her on these cases.
The over for tea Surprise: 3I had just found a letter in the mail, and invitation from one of my friends. Naturally, I picked it up, carried it out to the kitchen and opened it, before reading. Just that I had no idea that it was from my friend, or that it was an invitation, while picking it up. It isn’t as if any of these things were readable on the envelope, even if the address of the individual sending it was on the opposite corner of my address, as customary. “Dear Anna Sheridan.. You are here by invited to my home at 17:50. Come alone, it is hot, so dress accordingly. Your Pen Pall, Marlene“ The formulation was feeling a bit on the strange side, but I recognised her handwriting and voice behind each and every word. “I will be there by then. I guess summer is considered hot. Pen Pall, I do know you enjoy writing, but now you are being silly, are you not? Either way, I will be there by the appointed time, rest assured!” I thought. Of course I knew she enjoyed my company, but Dear was a bit over the top, wasn’t it? Either way, I had chosen to accept the invitation and promptly knocked on her door, at the specified time. Just about as punctual as she was to expect from me, in any case. As I finally did reach her door, I wear nothing but a skirt and top, not even any panties. Just a pair of boots, though. For convenience, I am carrying everything I had with me in a minimal backpack. “Come in!” she offered as she opened the door. “Hiya!” I responded as I followed her into the hall, as she closed the door behind me. “You came. I see you did come hot as I could have been expected, the red suit fits you just right!” she then responded, leading me towards her kitchen. “It certainly is warm enough to feel just a little bit hot. Besides, I like this suit, knowing you would approve did not exactly hurt!” I responded as I followed her into her kitchen. Two cups already standing on the table, awaiting us. One on each side, before the respective chair. A small pot of hot water on the table. I could see the selection of teas on the table as well. She had already prepared for my arrival, but what to expect? She knew when I was expected to arrive. “A small gift for you, Marlene!” she proclaimed as she pointed at a small beige cardboard box by the cup, where I was sitting. “Thank you, Anna!” I responded as I picked up her welcome gift, then promptly opening it, only to find the tube intended for my rear end, the back door. Apparently I had not noticed the changes to her form, body or pose, which is why I had addressed her as her regular name. The name I had known her by, for ages. Just as I had not realised what the clear rubber tube was intended for, or what it was to do to me, once inserted. “I take it you are bare bottomed under your skirt!” she put forth, looking at me eagerly. “Of course. Wasn’t that implied in your wording, in the invitation?!” I responded. “Yes, that was the intent. If you pick up the tube?” she responded with a sly smile playing on her lips as she was about to guide me on the intended exploit. “Like this? I inquired as I attempted to follow the instructions, slipping a finger into the tube, but finding it strangely slippery and unexpected elasticity teasing my senses. “Yes. Now, if you lift up the front of your skirt with your free hand before slipping your hand in and insert the tube from behind!” she instructed me. “Oh!” I responded as I followed her instructions, feeling the tube enter eagerly, while stubbornly staying where it went in as I pulled my hand out from under the skirt. “By the way, call me Pen Pall, or Pen for short!” she suggested, pointing at the mark on her right flank with the free hand. “Pen? Why? Am I as hot as you had hoped? What is the idea with that clear rubber tube? That is what it is, right?” I responded, not sure of anything, right now. “Yes, that is me, thank you. I hope you will enjoy what I had in mind, what is about to happen in a moment. You see, I chose this individual tube with you in mind. You are going to be as hot as I could ever hope for. Now I just have to wait and see what your mark and name is!” she pointed out, with a mix of certainty and raving unsure giggles. “I can’t even feel the tube anymore. It is as if it had never been there. Mark?” I responded. “I thought as much. You see, I can’t feel mine either. You are not supposed to feel it more than the first instant after insertion, which you may have noticed; you were incapable of preventing, if you had tried!” Pen enlightened me. “You can’t even feel it, if you focus on it? I guess that is hot, if anything!” I responded. As I lift my right hand up to my face, palm up, I notice it had already turned a brilliant silicone white, and just as smooth, making up what was to pass for a suction cup, while the tips of my fingers had become miniature hooves, matching Pens, only mine are clearly a bright, iridescent pink. “There goes my carefully done manicure!” I observed. “And your do, mind you?” Pen teased as she saw the split bangs in the Unicorn style. Of course my mane is the same colour as my hooves. The res of the hair is hanging back in two lines of three thick braids, reaching all the way down to my now extensively plump rump, which incidentally makes it comfortable to sit in the chair. Just like Pen, I have a tail, mine in a matching pink hue, curling in curious, stylish manners, befitting my persona. “I like your mane, it fits you, and it is extremely hot, if you don’t mind me saying so?” she then complimented. “I guess it is me, in the manner of what the tube had been intended to interpret my personality and preferences? I may look like you, but all the aspects make us individually unique as Ponies, in the anthropomorphic form. You did choose it, right?” I responded. “Speaking of unique, I think you have a very special mark, an eight-sided stare with little Horse shoes in the rainbow spectrum at each ray of the star. Only with a pair of quills crossed behind!” she observed. “That is so pretty, what ever it is supposed to signify!” I giggled. “Yeah, that is actually quite pretty, now as you put it like that. On the other hoof, I think the manual stated that the tube, or backdoor would be integrated into you, for as long as you are the Equine form of the Back Door. You will only find it, when you intend to pull it out in order to reverse the effect. Only you can even find it, not even I can find yours, no matter how closely I was to examine you, or for how long I was trying!” she enlightened me, matter of fact. “Wait.. Pen!” I exclaimed, realising that I couldn’t remember her Civil or Human name; she is simply Pen Pal to me. “The quill isn’t the same as a pen, there is a significance to the differences in our marks!” I then concluded. “Yes,
A Faustian Deal: 4Faust was supposedly the man who made a deal with the Devil. According to the story; he eventually died, of course. Incidentally, the creator of a show named My Little Pony is also named Faust. One could call it a kind of a Punny, if you can grasp the fun in this particular pun? My friend Pen Pal, whom I will hence forth refer to as Pen for short was given a gift by mail. Who it was from; a certain Diana Pie. I may not know it, but her full name is actually Pinkamena Diana Pie, commonly called Pinkie Pie by her friends, or simply Pinkie for short. This particular pink mare spends most of her time and efforts towards making her friends happy, smiling and laughing. A worthwhile goal and pastime, if you ask me. Of course; none ever asked me, if it is anything important. But what’s new? Pen, my friend chose to share the gift and its blessings with me. As she invited me to her home, showed me the gift and offered me to enjoy it with her. Of course, she had received more of these items; tubes and others, than she could ever make use of, all by herself. I guess I am just lucky, she chose to share the blessing with me. She could just as easily have chosen any other girl among her friends. Or; even a boy, if it was the name and face coming to mind for her. This comparison does have some shocking and frightening correlations to it. For one, in a sense you as the Human you were prior to inserting the tube known as the Back Door is dead and gone, at least for as long as the Back Door is in effect. While this rubber tube is in you, you are an entirely different self. Separate from whom you were as a Human. On the other hoof, once you extract said tube, the new persona could be considered dead and gone. Until such time as you once more slip your tube in. On the other hoof; since you can come back, you are not really dead. You can take the back door to whom you were prior to insertion or extraction at any given time. The more amusing and exciting detail is that your second self comes with her very own name, and a number of other interesting characteristics. The convenience is that none can make you extract, or insert the tube. this is in your personal control. You don’t actually lose time, while the other you is there, either, of course. Just as you don’t take any of the injuries inflicted upon you, in the other self. You can’t take an injury inflicted on your brother, so why now? It would be ludicrous and insane to suggest that your body should be damaged, just because your brother was? Of course, there are so many things to explore, and so much to learn about one’s self. Even if some of these details you learn are completely isolated to one side of you. If they are your original self, or the alternative, or altered self doesn’t really make any difference on that standpoint. Yet, you need to keep track of these details, in a very special and different sense. Not that you will recall what is irrelevant to your separate selves. The original Human self will only remember what is relevant to her, while your alter Ego will remember these things instead of what you do as a regular Human girl. Naturally, I have learned a few rather radical differences to my self in my alternative form. Not so much the details you can clearly see, when you look at me, but the things about my internal body. If this has anything to do with the Equine form, or if it is just a curious detail in the design, but I can find the interior of my womb from behind as well, not just from the regular path through the orchid. I guess a designer could find it fun, hilarious and even exciting. At least, some male designers sure would. Yet, I came to terms with it as a mere curious detail as an Equine and Pony. On second thought, I guess it does make sense on a very different level. The tube was called a Back Door. As a back-door, it is an entry from behind. Why, and what ever gave who ever designed it this idea, I have no idea. I guess I really don’t care. Yet, there is a chilling notion gnawing on the back of my head; telling me that the design was not quite as complete and perfect as one had been led to believe. What if I was creating it as I inserted the tube from behind, as my friend Pen had told me to? Maybe the general details, like the outer Equine characteristics were the design. What if the interior details are still all my creation, conscious or not? This may be a strange to unsettling sensation, particularly at first; yet I did get used to it. Feeling the slick rubbery tube with my bare fingers, the slippery surface barely affording me any friction or resistance at all. Then it hit me, upon arousal the rubber grows coarse and is coated with a thick gel lubrication that has a weekly negative friction. I found it strangely exciting to explore, once I got into it. Not to complain, but the sensitivity is a bit over the top. I can never claim that it is uncomfortable in any way, but it is distracting and makes it hard to pull out of the moment if something calls for my attention with the acute sensitivity I have as I am excited. Looking closer at it, I had also noticed just how seductively delightful Pen is tasting, when I first explored this with her. Just feeling her coarse rubber coated with thick gel that refused to smear or slide out of the way. How does one put a finger to it all? Another interesting change is the tendency towards lactation upon specific stimuli to my now large nibbles. I can’t say that it is uncomfortable or discomforting in any way, just one of the chance distractions that came with the change. I do enjoy the feel it gives me as well how it feels as I do it.
Unexpectedly Expecting: 5Author's Note Pen Pal's POV Unexpectedly Expecting: 5 Knowing that I had been sexually functional all along changed nothing. I had had no such problems in the past. Only there are a few side effects to the change on the subject. One of which led to me finding my self pregnant and expecting a birth in just under a year. Of course, this gives me tons of details to write to my friends about. Even if I guess I will eave out most of the details, particularly the more private and intimate of them. I am not going to say when how or with whom I am expectant. Why? Do they realy have to know? It feels much too private to go into, at this point. I had always been the Pen Pal to all my penpals, I guess, but now I am Pen Pal in a different way. It is my name, securely expressed and proven by the mark on my flanks. There is no denying it. Not that I ever cared to. Being a Pen Pall is one thing, now I am the Pen Pall. I had found a new drive in writing my mail, including the friends by mail. Of course, it had taken me a while to notice, to realize that I had been pregnant. These things do take time, after all. The impregnation takes a few days, all by itself. Then it takes more time before the effects on my body is noticeable enough for me to pick up on. Maybe this is for the better, at least in my case. On the other hoof, how great it would be to know instantly, if you wanted to avoid the pregnancy. Just as I guess it would have been great to have an early heads up, if you were actively trying to be pregnant in order to have your first child, or foal in my case. Right now, it is just a joyous occasion. I am cheerfully looking forwards to having her with me, while I am expecting to enjoy the process from the instant of realization, all the way to the instant of birth. I am going to feel the life growing inside within my very own body as a bond is building up and growing between me and the growing foal. Once it had sunk in, I am expectant and looking forwards to what is before me. I guess it is only natural to a mother. It isn’t as if I had any known ailment that could jeopardize me or the foal. Just as I have nothing in my life that would be a burden on my motherhood. No plans to get in the way. I am the Pen Pal, and as such; this is just another news to tell all my friends about. Even if I may choose to filter out some details to some. The once I know they are not enjoying, or if it feels too personal and private to include in the next letter. Not all will be as jubilant as I already am. I spare them what they don’t need to know. Even if I may have to explain that I am pregnant, and that I am expecting my first foal in the eleven months from now. There is the one small detail that never did change; that can never be changed. I am still Pen Pal. It is who I was, and who I am, just as I will remain. Maybe I had been a Pen Pal even before, but now it turned into who I am, it is my identity. Did I ever want to change it, or become anything more or different? Maybe I could have imagined it before. Yet, now it is what I am, I can’t see myself as anything but that one Pen Pal. Why bother trying to imagine anything else? I like having friends, and write letters to them, knowing they write letters back to me. I don’t mind having a few friends close by, close enough to actually see them face-to-face or even sharing my bed with them. Maybe part of this is in being the Pony, even if I am an anthropomorphic one at that. Funny, I never ever tried to pull out the back door; that little rubber tube from my rear entrance. Why? Why bother? I never did it, and it seems I never will. Why? I guess you are the only one to ask, to ponder the possibility. Why don’t you try to pull it out, to extract it for me? Or, at least extract your own? I can’t help you on this point. It simply isn’t my place. I can’t, I am entirely incapable to pull it out or even touch your little tube in the first place. It is the way of things and the way I like it to be. Okay, right now I would be worrying about my pregnancy. Would it change anything in this? How would it affect the foal within me right now, if I were to extract the tube, the back door? What if it would mean the same as if I had had an abortion? I certainly couldn’t have that. I can’t even imagine doing this. Or, if she would no longer be my foal afterwards? Would she be changed in the same manner as the tube, or in this case; the extraction of the tube is affecting me? Could I slip that back in and see her revert to what she was before I extracted my tube? Maybe you could live with that? I just can’t take the risk of losing my foal. My one and only foal. Maybe I am not a gambler? I just don’t take this kind of chances. Even if I did take the chance as I inserted the tube from behind on my own? Yet, then I had the word of a friend, backing up the decision. I trusted her, and I still do. I can’t say I regret it now. I like my foal the way she is, and I like the way I am now. I don’t feel the need to change, or an urge to even try to explore anything more now. I enjoy writing letters to my numerous friends all over the globe and beyond.
A Visit of my Pen Pal: 6Author's Note Cherries's POV A Visit of my Pen Pal: 6 A friend of mine, whom I know only as Pen Pal had invited me over to her place. Initially I had been worried, but in the end I had found myself ecstatic about the invitation. She had included her very own address, to the apartment in which she is currently living. Maybe this is what had made me suspicious in the first place. Yet, she had offered me to meet up with a friend of hers at a local café, where we could have a chat in the open, before I was to follow her home. I guess it is what eventually sealed the deal for me. Of course she knew what she was offering me, just as she knew full well what she was doing. She just did not let on all the details for some reason. Maybe she just wanted me to have all the excitement from the exploration of myself, the changes and how it would affect me in the long run. I guess I was to appreciate the gesture for what it is worth and the good intentions behind it. of course the changes are quite limited, but will mold me into a new image of me as the new form it is making me into. Some of the changes were inevitable, once the gift had been given. Just that the details are going to follow my personality. It is not changing me as deeply as one may have expected, after all. Of course I found her at the café, just as I had been expecting. She is sitting exactly where she had promised me. Her friend is just as eye popping as she is, when I found her. Her description left little to nothing to the imagination, there is no chance I could mistake her for anyone else. On the other hand, how do I mistake a regular girl for the Anthropomorphic mare I found siting where she had promised to be? Her friend in the same form only made it overly obvious. “Hiya, I am Pen Pal!” she had presented herself. “I have a little gift for you!” her friend extended as she passed me a small package. “Thank you!” I had responded. Of course it was just as open a place as she had promised me in the last letter. I had followed my old friend by the name of Pen Pal home to her apartment. I guess it does look much the way I had expected, not all that different from any other home. Naturally, her friend had followed us, and made us company as she invited me into her home. “Now, if you open the present?” Pen suggested. “Oh, why not?” I had responded, just before I opened the box and extracted the gift I had so recently been given. “Uh, what exactly is it?” I had inquired as I saw the clear rubber tube, elastic, yet glistering as if it was wet. “It is a tube, a Back Door. Just slip it in from behind and explore the rest. I am afraid I can’t explain this. You just have to experience it for yourself!” she pronounced. “I am sure you will enjoy it, but feel free to use the mares’ room. I think you will appreciate the privacy!” her friend added generously. “Okay. Wait, you mean I will have to be nude when I insert the tube?” I responded as I followed her direction and closed the door behind me. “Naturally!” she merely responded with no further explanation. With that, I slipped out of my top and skirt, piling them on the floor. From there I continued to slip out of my panties and pull my socks off of my feet. I look curiously at the minimal rubber toy, such as it is in my hand. After a minute of consideration, I placed it on the index finger of my right hand and inserted it from behind, just as she had told me. I pulled out my finger from the rear entrance, pondering what it was supposed to do to me. The first thing I noticed is how the skin of my mound stretched outwards as the internal flesh expanded in order to make a very generous mound. Only then I noticed how it grew shiny until I could see it glister vividly in the light of the small room. At the same time, my orchid grew darker and tightened up to little more than a black line, as thick as it turned out. I could see how it grew shiny and soon got a wet look, glistering. What I had failed to see is how my rear entrance grew dark and shiny, ending up pitch black and glistering, just as my orchid. Naturally, it had also tightened up, just like my orchid. My rump had grown plump and firm at the same time. Now I notice that my skin changed, turning into what was to pass for shiny white rubber. My thighs grew shorter and my feet considerably longer. Then my toes grew into what could only be taken for a pair of hooves. As I bend forwards, I see the glistering black rubber making up a pair of glistering black suction cup hooves of an Equine look. As I lift my right hand to my mound, I found it slightly wet, covered in some kind of a thick gel. The rubber underneath is slick, slippery. I feel the elastic skin under my fingers as I keep probing myself in an attempt of exploration. I also feel the flesh under the skin pressing firmly. As my fingers reach the orchid, it is stiff, and had already contracted instinctively at the instant of contact. I can’t control it. Yet, the coarse rubber is covered with even thicker and more slippery gel, giving me the impression of excitement and being wet. Maybe the association is hard to impossible to resist, yet I continue to press on. I notice how easy it is to slip in a finger, almost as if I had been incapable to prevent the insertion, just as I am incapable of rejecting it after it had slipped in. Once I had slipped in another finger, I notice just how elastic my orchid is. On that note, the sensation of being wet continued as far as I could probe with just my fingers. By now my entire body is covered with the same white skin, glistering and shimmering in a hue of pink to cerise. This is quite the contrast to the black rubber of my hooves and my orchid. I now place my left hand on my chest, feeling the form of a firm rubbery Cup-Cake. Only there is a bright metallic bloody red cherry on the top of it. To my surprise, it is the same course and covered with a thick gel, making it immensely sensitive to the touch. Just as I soon realized just how excitable it is. On a chance estimation, I would guess that I had turned into a solid B-Cup. I guess that is something I could be comfortable with. Just enough to cover with a cupped hand, no more and no less than that. Why would I need more, or less? When I say cherry, I guess that is to the point, even if they are very large Cherries. I chose to tease them by both stroking and pulling at them. Maybe I should cut this short, before I scream? Once I had pulled my right hand out, and placed it on my face I find a minimal muzzle to go with my hooves. It is clearly Equine in nature. My eyes had slipped to the right and left, ending up at the respective corners of my face which incidentally gave me a wide panorama vision. My ears had grown pointy and moved up to the top of my head. As I look into the mirror, I found an Equine face, but one of these Anthropomorphic once. I guess I could go well with my friends. Only now I could clearly see my right hand, holding it up on my face before me as I look into the mirror. My nails had grown to about an inch in length, covering the entire tip of the respective finger in a semi square shape, maybe two millimeters thick. Each nail reaches from just about the last joint of the finger, but under it I find a pink to cerise sensitive pad, almost like the once of your average pet, like a Cat or a Dog. I noticed that my lips had grown rather full to the border of plump, while being uncustomarily narrow, the same red as nibbles and nails. The palm of my hand looks and feels like a suction cup. Utterly smooth and a pure silicon white. If I had slapped a hand on the wall, I would have heard a curious squeaking noise and felt how it would hold on to the smooth surface. Maybe it is good that I was never tempted into trying out the trick, just in case I would have been incapable of pulling my hand free from the wall; as unlikely as such an incident should have been. As I look down, I suddenly noticed something I had never truly expected to see; on my flanks, I have a pair of cherries, with the twin branch and the green leaves to go with them. Whatever this could possibly mean; but it has a clear link between my personality, and who I am. “Cherries!” I breathed, in excitement. “Uh, Pen; why do I have Cherries on my flank, and what does it all mean?” I inquired; as I had unlocked the door, and emerged from the mares’ room. “The Cherries is your Cutie Mark, the mark that identify all Ponies. My dear Cherries, this does call for celebration!” Pen responded.
