Trapped in Manehattan

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The shower had been glorious. Washing off the dust from the travel, the hot water and adding the feel of being clean.

I had ordered up the room service for some enjoyable treat, after the shower. It had sounded like a wonderful treat. Of course; everything comes at a price, but a few bits for the joy would be no problem, or so I had thought. It isn’t as if I couldn’t spare them in the first place.

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The mare had slowly dried me off with a set of large white towels, before she applied this curious cool clear gel that slowly warmed up to my body temperature and momentarily just a degree above, while glowing in a bright blue to cyan. After that it is neither seen nor felt.

Only then I realized I was getting stiff as the gel turned into a thick rubber. By now, she picked up a clear rubber valve, like the once I had seen on the beach ball and inflatable mattresses.

Now the white mare proceeded to give the valve a tentative tug, only to make sure it was actually attached to the belly bottom. For some reason, she finished this by applying a sipper along the entire length of my spine, from the edge of my mane to the root of my tail.

Once the sipper had attached itself to my back, I had found myself as stiff as the clear rubber covering my body, as if she had actually turned me into a doll, or a toy for the next mare or stallion to spot me in the room.

Before she carried me, or my body out of the room, she painted my hooves a metallic bloody red. What if the red was actually saturating my hooves, just in case I was to escape the prison made out of this rubber and possibly the flesh I feel as if it had been rubber. Is it, or not? I have no idea. On the other rubbery hoof, does that matter, right now?

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The obvious follows, as she placed me on a trolley and pulled me out of the room. The door eagerly opened for her and closed behind her. I can clearly see everything around me, as if nothing had happened, aside from the fact that I can’t move as much as a single little muscle in my body, as much as I may like to. Once the door closed behind her, and me; I had given up in the face of what is obviously impossible.

From what I could see in the mirror like stainless steel surfaces in the elevator, my body looks like a glistering rubber doll version of whom I had been prior to her appearance in the room. Every last little detail seems to be the same, unchanged.

The rubber my body seems to have been molded out of jiggle with the motions of the trolley on which I had been mounted. I feel the motion of the lift as it falls downwards towards the ground level. At least I imagine it is where we are going.

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Once we finally grind to a halt as the motion is halted by the floor, I feel myself jiggling even more, but then she unceremoniously pulls me out on top of her trolley, just after the double doors opened before her. The doors close quietly behind her as she keeps pulling me along the long hall, stopping at a door.

I noted that she pushed a button and the door opens in order to eagerly admit her into the next room. The door closes behind her greedily as she had pulled me into the room. Another set of doors open and close in order to let her continue on her merry way.

She carefully lifts me off of the trolley she had been using in order to transport me from the room I had booked, and to the room I now had found myself. Exactly what her purpose for the act had been, I have no idea, she had not told me. Maybe she will, or maybe she wouldn’t? Either way, I am stuck on the ride to where ever she may choose to take me.

Of course, so long as I am motionless and can’t do anything, I am helpless under her every whim. I had figured as much. With that, she is bound to have an idea and a purpose for what she had done. One doesn’t just pick up Ponies, even if they had been rendered helpless, just for the sake of taking them away? Or?

Now I could once more feel her hooves as she probed and prodded my body from the tip of my muzzle and to the edge of my plump rump. She is clearly eager and excited, I could feel as much. It isn’t as if she even tried to hide that fact. Even if she never mouthed as much as a syllable about it, or anything else.

Only now, I noticed how she used a ribbon in order to tie my tail up, before she lifted it up and placed it along my spine. Once she was done, she moved on. I noticed her moving up and placed her muzzle right on the top of my mound. I could feel her sniff and snort, before she parted her lips and carefully lapped away around my mound, and then finally my orchid. There was no way to avoid the experience or denying it now. She apparently was quite excited by me, the scent of me and the feel of my orchid.

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Conflicting sensations and emotions coursing through my body. I wanted to scream out in alarm, fear and revulsion towards the way she had treated me as she pulled me out of my room. I did not want her to have any pleasure from me, my body. In the form it is in now or any other. I hated the feeling of helplessness and vulnerability she had placed upon me as she trapped me. As she turned me into the doll I am now.

On the other hoof, I wanted to sigh, to moan and scream out from the sensations the touch her muzzle and tongue caused me. I can’t reconcile the conflict. It is as if there are two of me inside the trap. On the one hand, there is the me who wants back to my room, and the me that is made out of rubber and who love every tiny little sensation she is giving me. Or as I would have put it; forced upon me.

Every touch caused my body further into the red. On the one hoof she is causing my body excitement and closing in on towards coming, but she is also violating me, ignoring my wishes and desires.

Maybe I had agreed, had she asked me in the first place. Yet, she never asked, not a single time. Does she take it that the original order gave her the right to do, what she is doing now?