The Bondage of an Orphanage

by Ponyess

Rating: teen
Tags: Other, Changelings, Science Fiction, Random, Alternate Universe, Anthro, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 3311

At the Filly Orphanage, certain bondages are not just approved, but encouraged. Naturally, we are fed, clothes, educated, entertained and kept safe. For all I know, I am living a perfectly happy and normal life.

Living at a filly orphanage isn’t all that bad, even if most of us are missing our original parents who gave us birth and love. Would we have been Ponies, if we had not been missing them?

Once you are fed, clothes, educated and entertained; life feels safe and happy, a normal life as any Pony would have told you.

I have my very own room, and with a wardrobe full of my shiny clothes. If you had told me it isn’t customary for Ponies to wear these clothes, fashioned out of local Latex Rubber; anyone of us would have laughed you out of the area, in no time flat. Why shouldn’t a filly wear these? I do love my bikini.

Published 2016-02-02 02:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2016-02-05 15:08:20 UTC

The Promise of Life Anew: 1

Author's Note

Star Shine's POV

The Promise of Life Anew: 1

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“Welcome to the Filly’s Latex Orchard Orphanage!” the pink mare greeted me, as I entered through the iron gates.

“Hiya, and thank you!” I pronounced, with a deep bow.

“I am Miss Latex Patcher! I will escort you to your new room, in order for you to familiarize yourself with your new home and come to terms with your new situation!” the mare explained; in a gentle, benevolent tone and with an infectious little smile on her muzzle.

“I am Star Shine! Thank you, Ms. Latex; if I may call you that?” I responded in kind, as I permitted the first hint of a brave smile tentatively spread over my lips.

“Certainly, Miss Star! Right this way!” she prompted, as her smile slowly spread further over her face.

I merely followed her on the heel, with a court nod as affirmation; not making a noise, other than the clippity clop from my hooves as I followed her to the designated room, imparted to me for the duration of my stay.

.

“If you place the palm of your right hand in the groove of that plate!” she instructed me, indicating the direction with a short nod.

As I placed my hand where she had indicated, I could clearly see a glow under my hand as the plaque changed from the generic face and arcane symbols; into what is a perfect representation of my face and my name spelled out under the portrait.

“Welcome to your very own room. I will pick you up in order to escort you to your first meal in an hour!” she indicated as she turned on her heel and trotted back the way she had come.

.

I opened the door to my room, anxious of what I was to find behind the barrier that had so recently been torn down for me. Everything I had even known, and everything I had ever loved had just been stolen from me and torn from right out of my heart. It is the cause of me being here, the very reason for me coming to the orphanage in the first place. This is my new home and a chance at the life I could never had had before.

Behind the door, I see a floor laid with beech wood and polished with an adamant, clear rubber in order to protect the floor from anything that could be on the hooves of a filly such as myself.

Then I noticed that the walls had been laid with red cherry wood panels, likewise coated with the same smooth and shiny rubber. This is the home of a filly, and I am expected to challenge the room with any manner of things.

To the right I have my wardrobe with two matching double sliding doors. On the floor, there are two pairs of fitting rubber boots in black and white respectively; for when going out, I would imagine. There are matching gloves, jackets and head wear.

On my left, I found my fillies’ room, with the appropriate facilities; including my towels hanging from the wall on the right and left of the sink.

The second door on my left is for the shower, saving me the trouble and embarrassment of needing to leave my room, and my home for the purpose of personal hygiene, for which I am going to be eternally grateful.

What came as a surprise isn’t that the living room had the same preparations, but that I actually do have one. I guess they like me to get used to actually having a home of my own, as opposed to being stored on a warehouse like a crate of hay. The room isn’t all that large, but apparently large enough for two two-seated sofas, and four single-seated comfortable chairs and two small round tables.

On the table to the left, I could clearly see an issue of the foalfree press, and an image of Snips and Snails, stuck together with a large swat of pink bubble gum holding them together. I may not recognize the individual Unicorn foals, but the image is provoking me to giggle as a smile is spreading over my face. If only I had known the significance of the image, while enjoying the inherent humour in their predicament. I did not have to read the text in order to see the humour as embarrassing as it may have been to the two while it happened.

Under the school paper, there is the issue of Equestria Daily. I do recognize the paper, even before I had actually read the header on the front of the closed issue of the day.

"The former Countess on Good-Will tour, Promising she will see all the foals who are unfortunate enough to find themselves in an orphanage, or less fortunate!” I read, on the cover of the prestigious capital paper.

I have my bed room on my right, with a full-size bed. Maybe I am surprised by the change I found, the room is coloured in black. I have a black rubber sheet, and a matching quilt; while even the pillow is the same.

There are two double, sliding doors to my wardrobe; behind which I will have all my clothes. Behind the right pair of doors, I find full-length gloves, stockings, tights, tops and the skirts with integrated panties. The tops and skirts are hanging like a set, as in a bikini, while the stockings and gloves come as a separate suit or ensemble; something I guess I just have to get used to. If it is odd or practical, but the walls in my wardrobe are a highly reflective silver metallic, like a mirror would have been.

Behind the second pair of double door, I find full-body one-piece swim suits and full-length dresses or gowns; both with a zipper all the way down the back over my spine, imagining they do have a very interesting explanation. Then I also find the wash bin, or chute here; in which I place my used clothes, as I change by night.

”All clothes contained in this wardrobe are designed and crafted by Rarity in Ponyville, Equestria! The Carousel Boutique!” I read, quietly under my breath.

On second thought, I guess I could as well have a change of clothes; just to try them on, and not to stick out in the crowd of other fillies around here.

“Oh? This is why the Orphanage was called; the Filly’s Latex Orchard Orphanage?” I exclaimed, in shock as I realized what the clothes are made out of.

”All clothes contained in this wardrobe are enchanted by Twilight Sparkle in Ponyville, Equestria! The popular Princess of Friendship!” I read, quietly under my breath.

“I guess utter gloss would be the expression, and now I know why Ms. Latex Patcher’s clothes were so shiny as she was welcoming me to her Orphanage!” I pondered.

Cotton isn’t shiny, and not even silk comes with quite the lustre of polished latex rubber. Rubber is hygienic and easy to clean, or so I imagined as I placed a hand on the first bikini before me in the wardrobe.

”I’m impressed, if they can feature this prominent Ponies, supporting the orphanage?” I read, quietly under my breath.

Once I had made up my mind, I stepped out of my clothes and tossed them all right down the chute; never to think of them, as if I had thrown away my bad fortune. I am trying to embrace a new future with my new home, in the hopes that I can make new friends and build up a new family for myself. As a Pony, I need friends; I am dependent of the company of friends and family, something I could never deny even for myself.

With my old clothes and life down the chute, I pull down the first skirt and step right into it; only to find them fitting me perfectly, compliment of the magic that had changed the plaque on my door as I entered the room, even if I did not know it or realized it at the time. Then I pulled out the matching top and pulled it down over my head, finding a matching fit. I found a liquid shine to the bikini as I slipped into it comfortably.

Considering for a moment, before I pulled down a pair of stockings and slipped my hooves into them, right and left; pulling the stockings all the way up over my thighs. Once I am standing steadily, wearing the stockings; I pull out the gloves and slip my hands right in and pull them up, all the way to my shoulders.

Looking down, I notice the silver hue of my hooves. The bikini is a glistering black, while the panties are silicon white. At first the panties and bust is just a perfectly smooth surface, which changes fluidly under closer inspection as need be; ending up as if I had been nude, but placing desired emphasis in the details like the petals of my orchid and my now sanguine cherries. I have some problem to come to terms with the powerful magic implied and make up my mind as to how I am to react, ending up with a tentative smile just in case.

Of course I had noticed how the suit enhanced the definition of my body. Now I can enjoy sitting down with my plump rump, and my hips would fit perfectly in the chairs in my living room. When I place my hands on my hips, I feel the narrow waist. I guess I will enjoy the budding bust as a full B cup size too. As I lift up my right hand up before my face; I can clearly see the silicon white suction cup that is the palm of my hand, while my fingers merely enjoy the same enhanced definition as the rest of my body. Should I be shocked by the inch long, semi square nails? Or should I be excited by the bright cerise sensitive touching pads I have; covering the fingertips from the final joint, all the way up to the nail? Yet, the grip is thrilling me.

.

As I turn around, focusing on the bedstand, I find a pair of nighttime panties. There is also a matching top, aside from bed boots and short gloves.

In surprise, I yelp as I see the face mask, a bit, blinders, and an assortment of similar night wear for over-night usage. I guess I just have to explore these, but I imagine they could wait until I am going to bed.

I am not sleepy, and Princess Celestia’s sun is definitely high on the sky. Nightwear can wait, for the moon of Princess Luna. I doubt anyone would cast blame if I leave them where I found them until dusk.

There may be time left of the promised hour, but I choose to walk out to my living room; these sofas and chairs had been starting to sound more and more exciting and enjoyable as time slipped by.

While I imagine they do have a library at the orphanage, but apparently I have a few books on the shelf to the right of the table.

“Twilight anecdotes; by Twilight Sparkle. All you need to know about apples, but were afraid to ask; by Applejack. Your pet and you; by Fluttershy. The rudimentary guide to Pink Comedy; by Pinkie Pie. Let the Music consume your spirit; by Vinyl Scratch!” I read on the covers of the books.

When I said comfortable; I mean that they are comfortable to sit in, but they are also comfortable looking in a spring green hue with a slight variation in colour.

.

There is a knocking on the door as I sit comfortably in a chair. I rise to my hooves and walk to the door, opening it only to be greeted by Ms. Latex.

“Lunch time!” she declares in merry tones.

“Oh, thank you, Ms. Latex!” I responded, as I step out and follow her along the hall to the dining room.

A first Night: 2

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I placed my hand on the door plate of my door, seeing as the door slides up to the right. Slowly walking into the room and feeling a swooshing draft as the door slides shut just three feet behind my back. At first it is eery, but then it hit me that it is convenient, more than anything.

Of course my belly is full as I walk into my bed room alone. I had seen Celestia’s sun go down, and as I had entered my room, I could see Luna’s moon through the window in my living room.

I had closed the door to my small bed room and walked up to the wardrobe and opened the door, before I slipped out of the suit of day. From there I walked to my bed and folded the quilt in preparation to hit the sack; my eyes lazy, due to the late hour and the excertion of a long day’s play.

.

Standing nude before my bed, I soon recalled what was hidden in my night stand, pulling it open and slipping a pair of white panties I stepped into and pulled all the way up over my hips. Feeling the tight white rubber slide over my hips gave me an odd image and a wayward excitement.

Alone and with the panties on, I picked up a matching top; pulling it down over my head; giving it a final, tentative tug in order to make sure it is on just right.

After a moment of consideration, I slipped my hands into a pair of white gloves that barely covers my hands; but are so tight I can see them only by the shift in hue and the texture of the slippery material they are made out of.

With the gloves on that I am assuming are mine or at least for my personal and private pleasures and enjoyment, I pick up a pair of matching socks; pulling them up to just above the heel.

I am eyeing a face-mask, but opted to see more of what I am looking like as I wear the garments I had chosen for my nightwear. Now I walk over to the wardrobe and open the door; only to find the reflection of my very own body before me, just as I had expected.

On top of my chest, I see a pair of perfect orbs, with the only exception being my now fairly large cherries up front. Neither the top nor the panties had changed, yet I see a hint of what I had never seen on the panties of my skirt during the day; just like the cherries, I now have a delicate orchid with beautiful petals hinted in the reflections and highlight.

I still see my hands; but aside from the usual features I now have considerably more pronounced suction cups, where the palms of my hands are. Am I assuming too much, if I imagine my hooves now are exquisite and pronounced, power full suction cups as well.

With my right hand, I examine my chest, only to confirm that the cherry in fact is where the reflections and highlights had it; only to be shocked by the acute sensitivity that was greeting my fingers as I explore what I thought I had seen. My left hand wonders of to my mound, with much the same result as I had experienced with my right hand; confirming that what I had seen actually is there, it isn’t a figment of my imagination or an illusion brought up by an exhausted mind. I can even go farther, but I opted to stop there for now. Maybe I should explore this deeper by tomorrow, or another day.

After closing the wardrobe, I walk back to my bed and the still open night stand. Since I had seen the appearance, I pick up the mask and slip it over my face before I slip the quilt to the side, and in towards the wall. Only then, first as I actually slipped the mask over my face I noticed that there is a small gag that fit into my mouth, even if it only goes an inch in.

With the mask covering my face, the room is entirely black; I can’t see a thing, not even the clear rubber sheet under the quilt. I slip in under the quilt and fold it right back over myself, before I fall asleep after I had placed my head on the pillow.

-

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I wake up early in the morning; with the sun of Celestia playing all over the room, but I see nothing and the room is in total and utter darkness as if it had been in the middle of the night. No matter where I turn my head, there is no light.

Of course, then I do remember; I am still wearing the mask I had slipped over my head the other day, feeling just enough of the gag in my mouth as it is covering my lips and my teeth.

I can move perfectly fine, but the quilt is resisting and doesn’t seem to want to let me lifting my arms up. However, I did manage to slide my hands along under the quilt and over my body. While my right hand slide over my mound, I clearly feel the delicate petals and the tingling joy of pleasure from the touch; then I noticed how my fingers easily slide in, into the orchid’s tunnel. My left hand found the top of my chest and slide up over the orb and to the large cherry, eliciting more tingling joy and warmth in my chest.

In the end, I managed to slip my arms out over the quilt and slide out from under it. I can’t say that I feel a weight over my body, but it just refused to separate from the bed.

Once my hands and arms are out, from under the quilt I managed to fold it up against the wall as I had always done back home. With the quilt folded up, I slide my hooves of of the bed and down onto the floor and sit up comfortably on the soft mattress. From there I raise to my hooves, and stand up like every morning.

I slip out of the panties and pull the top up over my head, before I slip my gloves off of my hands and the socks off of my hooves. As I had walked up to the wardrobe, I opened the door and slipped the night-wear into the chute.

Nude I step up to the other wardrobe and open the doors, once I had closed the first wardrobe. From there I pull out the skirt and step into it, before I pull out the top and pull it down over my head and give them a tentative tug in order to ascertain that they are indeed on properly.

Now I pull out the stockings and pull them on, before I pick out the pair of gloves and slide my hands right in and pull them all the way up my arms. With that, I am dressed up and ready to go.

Naturally, my panties are the same white as the day before, while the top and skirt are glistering black and beautiful. Looking down, my hooves are looking as if they had been made out of stainless steel. Curious, but I think I can get used to the new looks and feel of it.