All Things Begin

I sat back in my chair, eyes a little wide. I levitated off my headphones and ran a hoof through my mane. I remember my only thought being holy shit. I'd spent the hour before school doing as much research as fast as I could, cramming my noggin with knowledge that I hadn't even known existed. I'd read all about Trans ponies and Male to Females and Female to Males and a dozen other variations of pony that fell under the Trans umbrella, and I'd also read up on other parts of the LGBT+ community.  Now, I'd met plenty of gay and bisexual ponies, it wasnt really that uncommon, and aside from a few upity types here-and-there and a long past civil rights struggle, it was relatively well accepted as a part of Equestrian society.

However almost all of what I read on Trans ponies was entirely new information to me. I hadn't known any of this! How come none of this had been covered in class? Why hadn't this information been made known to me already? I found it completely bizarre that I had lived fifteen years and never even heard of such things.

What really got me was the way I felt currently.

My thoughts drifted back to the past, flying over dozens of incidents in my younger childhood days that all pointed back to the same conclusion. Trying my mother's makeup when I was 7, stealing some of her clothes when I was 12, dressing up alone in my room in the middle of the night, wondering why I'd been born a colt when I didn't relate to any of my male peers, why I simply couldn't fathom a future where I was a decrepit old colt with a wife and children, why I couldn't even grasp the concept of conventional sex with a mare but didn't feel like I fit the bill of a homosexual. Things I'd blamed on a, frankly, horrible home life and pubescent questioning of everything about oneself, but now... now it all seemed pretty clear.

And that was it, in a span of a little less than 60 minutes I more-or-less discovered why I was the way I was. Why I felt so subconciously at odds with myself constantly when I tried to act in a stereotype masculine fashion, one that matched my peers and might incite a little acceptance from them, why I felt so... false, when I wasn't listening to my music. Finally, I knew what and who I was, at least a little more than I had when I'd woken up that morning.

I was Transgender. I was a Male to Female Transsexual. I was meant to be a mare.

I had read a dozen or so stories, mostly about other... girls, who had known since they were fillies and colts, and just hadn't had a word for it. Ponies who'd felt this way for many, many years. It wasn't unheard of to come to the realization suddenly, as I had, just uncommon. It just felt so right, so completing. Like the rest of the world suddenly made sense, I'd finally turned the puzzle piece that was my life the right direction and knew where I fit with the rest of the world.

I said it quietly to myself, letting the reality sink in in silence for a moment, staring at the computer screen in quiet contemplation, but my thoughts were interrupted by the school bell, and I hurriedly packed my things and logged out, shutting the computer down and scurrying off to Gym of all places.

Its going to be a little awkward in the locker room now, since, y'know, I realized I've been in the wrong one all this time. I thought to myself as I drifted through the halls towards the gymnasium.

The entirety of my day passed in a haze of self realization. As a matter of fact, the entire week did, my mornings filled with continued research on what I now accepted as myself. The weekend was spent alone in my room, trying to picture the pony in the mirror as a mare, and being torn between wanting to save to buy equipment to start making music, or saving to pay for a spell to change my body to that of a female. The price tag for the gear I wanted was about six hundred bits, give or take. The price tag for the spell, travel expenses, and a few other bits and bobs was fifteen thousand. I began to question whether it was worth it, I mean, I'd gone this long as a boy so far, right? Surely, it cannot be that bad. But the more I read, the more I learned that the earlier I got it done, the better off I'd be, and likely, the better I'd feel. That meant choosing my passion or my person. It was a tough decision to place upon myself. I slept horribly those nights.

In the end, I elected to talk to Chet. While our relationship might've been new, but I surmised that It'd be better to talk to somepony who knew what I was even talking about, rather than risk talking to my mother and getting hit some, or talking to a counselor at school and risking whatever horrors might face me afterward. Monday morning and the following school day rolled by slowly as I waited to start my first work day.

I walked in the front of my new place of employment to find the restaurant empty, and no one minding the register. I hesitated for a moment, thinking Chet might've heard the door chime, but when they didn't materialize after a short while, I plodded my way through the “Employees Only” door and back around toward their office, feeling a bit of pride as I did so. Before I could make it however, a strikingly beautiful young mare stepped out of Chet's office and greeted me.

“Like, heey, bro! Glad you made it!” She said. I looked her up and down a second before replying. She was a tall, young, black coated unicorn with a bright pink mane and soft eyes that matched her mane almost perfectly. She was wearing a simple yet elegant white, flowing cotton dress with her hair styled into side swooping bangs that hung over her left eye. Now, I may have found colts, (and Chet) more attractive than most mares, but young ladies like this are why I say most mares.

“I, uh, hi. Is Chet here?” I asked her, stammering a little, flushing at my very sudden nervousness.

“Huh?” The mare looked at me, puzzled for a moment, “Oh! Like, dude, its me.” She said cryptically, and just as I was about to question her further, her horn glowed momentarily, before there was a short, pink flash and standing in the same place, in the same dress, was Chet. Their entire body shape had changed in an instant, with magic! From a mare to a colt, (At least, physically, as far as I could tell) “Is that better, sweetheart?” they asked, smiling that distracting smile at me.

“Ha-, wha-, uhm, I-,” I stammered, trying to find words, a tad awestruck by the willfull transformation I'd just witnessed, “How did you do that?!”

“It's a spell, man. I found it online a few years ago and taught myself how to pull it off. Its only temporary, but once you're good at it,” the colt paused and put a hoof to their chest, gesturing toward themself and inferring that they were, indeed, good at it, “You can just cast it again as soon as it wears off.” They finished explaining, flashing that dashingly attractive smile of theirs at me. Chet's current body's attractiveness was interestingly emphasized in their current garmet.

I nodded as they finished explaining, but before I could open my mouth to say anything, their horn glowed again and after another quick pink flash, Chet was again a strikingly beautiful mare. I bit my lip as my chest panged with a mixture of lighthearted lust and wholehearted envy.

“I just feel better like this, today, y'know?” They said, batting their long eyelashes at me.

I just nodded at them; I knew how they felt.

At that, Chet set about training me on my first day; showing me how to clock in, where everything was, and all that fun jazz. And of course, I completely forgot, for the moment, what I'd wanted to talk to them about.

The restaurant wasn't very busy that evening, with only a hoofull of customers that Chet took care of while I watched. I was supposed to have been paying attention to how they handled working with customers. Taking orders and whatnot. But of course, I was more interested in watching them. I did that for most of the night, but as we were finishing locking up and shutting the machines down, I remembered what I'd inteded to talk to Chet about. As soon as we clocked out, I spoke up.

“Hey Chet?” I asked, tentatively.

“Yes, little dude?” They said, pushing the back door open and holding it out for me, but I didn't move.

“Ca-, Can I... Can I talk to you?” I mumbled, stammering a little. Chet gave me a concerned look, and stepped back inside, letting the door gently slide shut. They sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall and spoke in a soft, motherly tone.

“What's the matter?” The mare said, peering at me with their head to the side, as if trying to work out how I felt from my face, “Speak up, buttercup,” They asked, flashing their trademarked enchanting smile.

I felt my ears flatten against my head and my cheeks go hot, and I must've taken too long to say something, because Chet stood up and ushered me into their office, directing me to a beanbag. They had a seat on theirs behind their desk, and smiled a reassuring smile.

“What's up, dude?” They asked, patiently. I took a deep breath and braced myself for potential embarrassment.

“D-Do you, uh, do you remember what you said, uhm, when I, uh, I came in for th-the interview?” I paused, “About gender... and stuff?” I finished, hesitantly. I surmised it may be best to come on slow, rather than being bold and direct.

I was worried about what Chet would say; I didn't know them very well yet, but I didn't know who else to talk to about how I was feeling.

“'Course I do, what about it, man?” They said, turning their head to the side a little, inquisitively.

“Well, I uh, I went and, uhm, I went on the computer, at school, and did... did some research.. about it.” I paused and looked down at my hooves, feeling a little squeamish.

“Sweetheart,” Chet said, in a tone that was calm and gentle, but stern enough to make me snap my head up and look at them, “Spit it out.” They asked. I looked back down at my hooves again and took a deep breath.

“I'm pretty sure... That I'm Transgender.” I finally blurted, (so much for building up to it) closing my eyes and waiting for their response. The mare was quiet for a moment, before they finally broke the silence in a kind, motherly tone.

“Are you sure?” They asked, to which I nodded, and the mare continued, “In what way?”

“I, uh... Male to... female...” I stammered, almost whispering the last word, letting the sound trail off and fade into the silence, waiting for Chet to say something. I'm not sure what I expected them to say, if anything. I'm even less sure why I chose to tell Chet in the first place, I suppose I just needed to get my recent discovery off my chest.

Chet stood up from their beanbag chair and plodded over toward me. They reared up a little on their hind legs and wrapped me in a hug. Their embrace was soft and warm, and I felt myself melt into them, nuzzling into their mane a little. They smiled like spring flowers and fresh oranges; it was wonderful and dreamy. I could've sat like that forever, but all good things must come to an end, I suppose.

“C'mon,” Chet said, finally pulling away, “Stand up, I wanna teach you something,” The mare said, flashing their delerium inducing smile my way.

I followed suit and they spent the next two hours trying, with mild success, to teach me their gender change spell. By the end of the lesson I could change my face and the muscles in my chest and shoulders to at least look more androgynous, if not feminine.

“Wow, Octave. You look great, man.” Chet purred in my ear, looking at my reflection in the mirror of the restroom with me. My cheeks flushed red at their compliment and I looked away, pretty sure my light colored fur was betraying me and displaying my flushed face.

“Thanks, Chet.” I replied. I did look great. It felt great too, not only to be able to more properly represent my newfound sense of self but also just to know that somepony was there for me and I wasn't all alone in my struggle.

“What time is it?” I asked, frowning in the mirror at my reflection as my spell wore off. I could only get it to last about ten minutes, so far. Though Chet did teach me enough that I could practice on my own, so I was confident that I would improve, soon. All in all, not bad results for a crash course lesson.

“I dunno, let me check,” My enchanting employer replied, plodding out of the mare's restroom, (Eeek!) I pondered at my reflection for a moment before Chet poked their head back in and broke my self induced trance.

“It is nine o'clock. We should probably get you home, dude.” Chet said, sounding worried, “Your mom'll come unglued and I don't want you to not be able to come back, man.”

Oh no. My mother hadn't even crossed my mind in the five hours I'd been here, she was going to be furious.

“Yeah, its getting real late. She'll definitely be mad, its probably best not to make matters worse by staying out even later,” I sighed, looking down at the floor. My vision was redirected however, when I came across a lovely, cotton wrapped rump, and followed it out the restroom door.