Wednesday morning, a sunny happy morning, the day before the big trip back to Canterlot with Wildfire, the Mare’s Club and the Stallion’s Club, and this morning found the sun streaming through the wide expansive windows of Brush Stroke’s top floor apartment located near Manehatten’s North Park.
Thus far the day had begun like most for the new couple. Prince Dusk had awoken first and had fixed his Master’s breakfast just the way he knew the talented artist liked it. Once it had been delivered and consumed, their second ritual had begun, that of Brush Stroke dressing Dusk. The mid blue earth pony would take his time, as always. Dusk would wait patiently, not saying a word as his outfit for the day was selected for him.
Today’s outfit was a creamy buttercup yellow dress – nothing fancy, a simple, flowing, everyday dress that clung to Dusk’s flanks and accentuated his curvy hindquarters – with matching socks and silver horseshoes. Artist palette earrings and pale blue eye shadow rounded off the look that was completed by the mid blue collar. Finally, Brush Stroke would spend a good half an hour brushing and styling Dusk’s mane and tail, usually into a pony tail. Then, when he was satisfied his stallion had become his mare, Brush would deem him ‘dressed’.
So had the morning passed, pleasant as those few that had passed before it. Neither pony was expecting any surprises. But, when the apartment buzzer went off at ten fifteen a.m., that’s precisely what they got. Putting down his milky ‘Celestia’ coffee, Brush Stroke trotted over to the intercom and flipped the switch. “Hello there?” His Trottingham accent, not quite overcome by years of living in Manehatten, spoke out.
The lilting voice of a mare came back through the speaker. “Is Dusk in?”
“She is,” once Dusk was dressed and brushed, he was definitely a ‘she’, and the effeminate stallion loved it. “Who's asking?”
“Shoe, on a personal matter.” The mare’s voice came back over the speaker, then she sounded confused. “I may have the wrong address, the Dusk I'm looking for is a stallion.”
“Just a moment, Miss.” Brush Stroke turned from the intercom and called, “Dusky!”
‘Dusky’ looked up from ‘her’ trashy gossip magazine that told the reader in cheery tones which celebrity mares had put on the most weight, or who was dieting this week, or which Canterlot noble had run off with his Prench au pair. Dusky had just finished reading the millionth article centred around ponies re-enacting the now famous ‘fountain spanking’ that his mom had given his mum. It didn’t help there was a plaque there now. A shiny brass plaque commissioned by his mom, of all ponies. “Yes, Sir?”
Brush Stroke liked ‘Sir’. He wasn’t much taken with ‘Master’. “Somepony here for you, love.”
Very curious as to whom it was, Dusky trotted over to the intercom, and in her normal voice asked, “hello?”
“Oh good, it is you.” The lilting female’s voice sounded relieved. “Why did your friend call you ‘she’?”
Dusky blushed a tiny blush. “It's ah, rather complicated, Miss. My coltfriend thinks of me as his mare.” Dusky didn’t know why she was telling a complete stranger this, but there was ‘something’ about this mare that sounded familiar, but the midnight blue pegasus couldn’t put her hoof on it.
“I see,” Now she sounded formal, to the point. “You've been away from Canterlot for some time now.”
“Yes, I am sorry about that,” Dusky replied, “we're coming over tomorrow actually.” Now why did she go and admit that? Again, she couldn’t quite nail it down, but there was just…something about this mare.
“Well I gave up!” Came the mare’s suddenly exasperated voice over the speaker. “I had to petition the Night Court, but Princess Luna was favourable to my cause and gave me this address. What about our foal?”
Dusky’s mouth almost hit the floor. Whomever this was had been to the Night Court, about a foal no less, his foal, a foal he had supposedly sired… “Miss,” Dusky led off, “you are either a loon or a crank, for I do not have a foal.”
“Not yet!” The mare cried dramatically, “Will you talk to my face or do I go back to the Night Court?”
“Fine.” Princess Luna on her case was one thing she didn’t need…even worse was her mum on her case, especially about a foal. Maybe she and Brush Stroke could diffuse this situation before it got out of hoof, or worse, the press got hold of it. “Come on up.” Dusky pressed the door release.
The indicator light flashed to show the main door was opened. “I'll be right up.”
“And, that was?” Brush Stroke asked his mare with an amused, if curious, tone to his voice.
Dusky shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, Sir. Some nut job I expect. I'll sort it…” a few moments later there was a knock on the door. The mare bowed, “I'll get it, Sir.” Dusky trotted quickly over to the door and opened it slightly until the chain pulled tight. “Yes?”
Through the small opening, Dusky saw the back side of a pink mare with grey tail and a sheer red tulle skirt that showed off her horseshoe cutie mark. The tail was over enough to confirm that it was a mare. She turned at the sound of the door opening and Dusky saw she was wearing a red brocade corset, red sheer socks and a ruby necklace. “Dusk?” She asked, brushing aside her highly stylised grey mane from her dark green eyes.
“Speaking,” Again, Dusky had the odd feeling she knew this mare, but from where? “To whom do I have the pleasure, Miss?”
“Shoe.” The mare fluttered her aforementioned dark green eyes. “May I come in?”
“That depends Miss,” Dusky said cautiously, “what business do you have with me?”
“I didn't think you'd be so cold.” Shoe said, an offended look on her face matched her tone.
“I beg your pardon, you act as though we've met?” Dusky flustered, the poor pony as confused as she’d ever been.
“We have at court!” Shoe stomped her hoof in the hallway outside the apartment. “I'm not surprised you don't remember me!” She exclaimed as her eyes started to glisten with tears.
“I'm sorry Miss, I’m afraid I don't recall you…”
“Dusky, won't you invite your friend in?” Brush Stroke said in a firm tone that said ‘invite her in’.
“Sir!” Dusky exclaimed to her coltfriend, “she's a nut!”
“No,” Brush Stroke said seriously, running a mid blue hoof through his red and yellow mane, “she's making a scene on my doorstep. Invite her in, now please.”
“Fine.” Dusky sighed in defeat and unchained the door to open it wider. “Please, Miss, come on in.”
Immediately as the door was opened Shoe sprang forward and hugged the midnight blue pegasus rather strongly. “I accept who you are Dusk!” She cried even as she delivered this bone crushing embrace. “I begged Princess Luna to carry on the Royal Line, I want your foal!”
Taken completely by surprise, Dusky struggled to fight the earth pony mare off of her. “I'm afraid you've had a wasted trip Miss,” she panted, trying in vain to straighten her dress. “I don't sleep with mares.”
Standing to one side, not helping in the slightest, Brush Stroke was rather enjoying his mare’s distress. He decided to let it play out just a little more. “Somepony I should know, Dusky?”
A loud laugh sounded from the hallway, a laugh that was very familiar, and Dusky’s confused brain began to connect the dots. “S-Sonic?” As the laugh continued, the pegasus broke out in a grin as she made a picture of the dots. “Well played guys, you might as well come in too, Sonic, or loiter outside.”
Still laughing, Sonic walked up behind Shoe. “Shoe did ask Princess Luna to bear your foal at Night Court.” The purple earth pony stallion grinned behind his blue mane. “Sort of.”
“Sort of?” Brush Stroke asked, fighting to contain his own grin while the lovely Shoe nuzzled his mare.
“Well,” Sonic began with a smile, “It was Lord Caffeinated's Night Court, and Princess Luna was presiding, and it was actually during the day and Shoe wasn't quite herself at the time.” The purple pony paused for breath and a chuckle, “You may have been asleep at the time, Dusk.”
“He or she or whatever doesn't love me!” Shoe cried and moved away facing a corner of the apartment’s living room as she held her tail in a very provocative manner.
“I-I see…” the final few dots slotted into place in Dusky’s brain and as the realisation dawned upon her she grinned a wide grin as very fond memories of that night came wafting back. “I do love you very much, Trails.”
“Good work Shoe!” Sonic smiled at his partner and Shoe performed a very happy dance. “You had him fooled completely. This is Shoe, Trails is a very different pony.”
Dusky nodded in appreciation of the illusion. It had been complete. “I was indeed fooled.”
Brush Stroke laughed long and hard. It was difficult not to. “Won't you both come in and make yourselves comfortable?”
Shoe pulled out a silk hooferchief from a hidden pocket to dab at her eyes. “Oh, my mascara! Where is the bathroom?”
“Bathroom is out into the little entrance hall, turn left and it’s the only door at the end.” He trotted over the hardwood flooring and showed her the way.
“I see you've keep your name Ms. Dusk.” Sonic said as he looked around Brush Stroke’s apartment. It was very spacious, with exposed bare brick walls and polished hardwood floors throughout and black oak beams on the white ceiling. The living room was the main room, with a kitchen area off to the left with three doors next to it. The farthest left was to a bedroom, he could tell as it was half open. “Shoe is Shoe and Trails is Trails, so to speak.”
Dusky motioned for his friend to have a seat on one of the two large black faux leather couches that made were angled at forty five degrees making a point facing a large flat screen TV. “I did indeed keep it, my Oils likes calling me Dusky.”
“Indeed I do,” the artist smiled as he sat next to his mare. “Would you care for a drink?”
Sonic nodded eagerly. “Juice and soda water if you have it.”
“Sonic, love,” Shoe led off as she came back out of the bathroom looking simply beautiful, “did you leave the box in the hall?”
“Errr, um…yeah.” The purple earth pony blushed and got up. “Let me go get that.”
“The Princess actually said she didn't have enough magic to let me have your foal,” Shoe giggled as Sonic quickly trotted out into the hall, “but that it was okay to ask.”
“We certainly do,” Brush Stroke tapped Dusky’s shoulder with his forehoof, “don’t we sweetheart?”
Immediately, Dusky caught the inference of her coltfriend’s tone, and got up from the couch with a smile. “I'll go get that for you, Mr. Sonic.” She trotted off to the kitchen, clinking around in her brief search for a glass and the juice.
Brush watched his mare work with a sense of pride. “A drink for you, Miss Shoe?” He asked.
“Water with lime please.” Shoe answered, somewhat distracted as she studied Dusk's swaying back side and glimpses of undercarriage as she worked in the kitchen. In short order Sonic returned to the living room with the box he had left outside. Thankfully it was still there.
“Get that, would you love,” Brush Stroke ordered, “and a lemonade for me and something for yourself as well, there’s a good little mare.”
“Of course Sir.” After beavering away in the kitchen for a few minutes, Dusky duly trotted back over with a tray in her mouth, carrying a black currant juice and soda, water with lime, lemonade and a sparkling water. She laid the tray carefully on the coffee table between the two couches along with coasters.
Throughout the time she had been getting the drinks, Shoe hadn’t taken her dark green eyes from the midnight blue pegasus’s body. “Dusky darling, would you be at all put out if we were to touch your ass?”
Dusky shook her head with a smile. “No Miss Shoe, not at all.”
“Please face the television, gentlefillies.” Sonic said, and Shoe got up from the couch and moved next to Dusk with a sizable gap between them so Sonic could move between them. “Lift your tails please.” As Shoe and Dusky both did as they were told, Sonic lifted up both dresses to give a clear view to Brush Stroke and the purple earth pony looked too to see if there was any difference.
Watching, somewhat fascinated at the display, the mid blue earth pony artist saw that Shoe had the expected folds under her anus that one would find on any mare, no visible testicles or sheath, but if you were hypercritical you might judge the hair around her undercarriage might be a bit longer than normal. Dusky meanwhile was just wearing yellow panties, the bulge of his sheath and balls easily visible inside them. “I see,” Brush Stroke nodded appreciatively, “quite the difference in our mares, Sonic.”
“I will have to say that Shoe is a terrible flirt and only wears sheer dresses.”
“You love it darling.” When Sonic lowered both dresses, the longer fur was much less noticeable but the folds of the fake labia were still there to be seen. “The voice isn't that hard either and does…” Shoe then altered her voice back to what Trails’ voice sounded like, “make all the difference.”
“My...indeed it does.” Brush agreed.
“It certainly had me believing it at any rate.” Dusky nodded.
Smiling, Shoe swallowed a few times to get back to her more feminine voice. “Swallow to tighten the muscles in your upper throat and keep them tight and talk normally. It is best to have something to talk into so you get feedback. Mr. Oils can help you there. It will change the pitch without you doing a falsetto voice that never has the right volume.” Shoe then pulled out a sheath covering from the box that perfectly matched Dusk’s fur. “It isn't all that comfortable to wear, but you do get used to it.”
Dusky swallowed a couple of times and felt the muscles of his throat tighten up. “It’s worth it for my sweetheart.”
Shoe smiled, “I can go all day like this, but at night I relax as my sweetheart loves both my voices.”
Sonic grinned, “and I don't want her to stop talking to me.”
Brush Stroke put a hoof on his partner’s shoulder. “There was a bit of a change then my love, try it again.”
Nodding, Dusky swallowed again, this time holding it. “I'm only quiet when my baby is working.”
While Dusky was practicing, Shoe showed the sheath cover to Brush Stroke. “You see from the back it has all those lovely mare bits, but woe to anypony that tries to rape you.” She giggled, “this strong elastic band goes over the sheath to hold it tight against the barrel and cup your balls close to your body. Not comfortable, but after time you will ignore it. This fish line strap then goes over the barrel to hold it against your belly. Fur brushing will then hide it, but I still wear a corset to hold it in place and hide it better.”
"I try not to work too much, I love her voice.” The artist giggled, “it is realistic though, isn't it? Not that I'm intimately acquainted with the female anatomy. You are of course welcome in the studio, I'm working partway on a commission at the moment.”
Smiling, Dusky then mixed in a bit of the newer feminine voice with the upper crust Canterlot voice. “My baby is quite excellent.”
Nodding her approval to the pegasus, pleased with the amount of progress that had been made. “Then there is liberal use of makeup to soften the stallion muzzle for a more mareish look. Hmm…Dusky does look rather mareish to begin with so that’s a bonus. The eyes will draw attention so the rest may go unnoticed. I so want to make Dusky ravishing and see if we can fool his mum or mom. Most likely not his mom.”
“I'll be amazed if we fool mom,” Dusky giggled. “Mum might be easier.”
“We are all meeting up at Stripe's Cup of Java at six p.m.,” Sonic lead off, “the overnight Friendship Express for Canterlot leaves at seven p.m. All the other pegasi are riding with us.”
Dusky giggled like a filly. “I haven’t taken the train for ages.”
“I'm glad we are,” Brush Stroke commented. “I'm not flying, my love.”
Sonic laughed, “I can well understand that Oils. So, do you each have an outfit picked out for Canterlot's ritzy restaurant?”
“Yes, Sonic,” Brush Stroke replied. “I've picked out an outfit apiece for us to wear.”
“I've worked many a high end event in Canterlot,” Sonic said, “so may I see them please? I've found that tasteful Manehatten fashion is considered 'provincial' in Canterlot.”
“Of course you may,” Brush Stroke trotted to the closet in the bedroom and came back with a beautiful layered dress, the bottom layer was a dark blue and went up in grade until the top most layer was an ice blue. “I thought this would be ideal for my Dusky, it has matching shoes and for myself I was going to wear a favourite suit of mine.” Brush Stroke then proudly showed off his red flared suit.
Shoe squee’d loudly at the lovely dress that the earth pony stallion had picked out for Dusky, while Sonic was less than enthusiastic about the red zoot suit. “Ahhhh, colour for stallions isn't exactly in fashion right now,” he said tactfully, “but that would look good at a Zebran club we visit. Maybe something in either white or black by chance?”
While Dusky joined Shoe in her squee at her dress, letting out a big girly giggle, Brush Stroke rolled his eyes at the snub to his chosen suit. “Oh...if you insist darling.” Quickly, he returned his zoot suit to the closet and came back with – in his opinion anyway – a boring pure white suit. “Here, how's this?”
“Yes,” Sonic smiled, “that is an excellent choice for the Canterlot snobs.”
“I say,” Dusky opened in his Canterlot voice, “you'll look simply marvellous my love!”
Shoe spoke up, “I was going to do the makeup on the train, but can I do it now if you wish?” When Dusky looked pleadingly at his lover and his Master, Brush Stroke crumbled immediately and nodded to Shoe. “Please make yourself comfortable Dusky.”
Doing a little happy dance, Dusky hopped up onto the couch nearest to him and wriggled in place to get comfy. “Ready Miss Shoe, make be beautiful.”
“Sonic darling,” Brush Stroke said, “I wonder if I could borrow you, I'd like your opinion on this piece I’m working on.”
Sonic nodded eagerly. “I’d love to look but I must admit my taste in art is rather urban.”
“Hmm, oh never mind about that dear,” Brush Stroke led the way to the room that was the studio, the room furthest to the right that overlooked North Park and like the rest of the apartment it was bare brick. “Now, this piece is outside my usual genre, but you don't refuse when the Princess of the Night requests a portrait. Honest opinion, if you please.” The artist showed the purple stallion a large canvas with Luna and Octavia arranged upon it so that the Lunar alicorn was laid behind her wife with her head on her forelegs on her wife’s back while Octavia was laid in front of Luna with her head on her forelegs facing the viewer. Both of the heads were done, while the bodies, the manes and the background were merely sketched outlines.
“By Luna's left ear, it is a pretty start.” Sonic gave his considered opinion after a few moments of studying the painting. “Seems odd to have the Princess in the background, but the wings up does make it hard to switch the positions.” He let out a little laugh. “I can imagine Luna's left hoof a bit to the left peeking out under Octavia's tail.”
Brush Stroke laughed, “yes I had fun with that in my initial sketches.” He indicated an area near Octavia's hind legs with lots of rubbings out. “To be honest, I think Dusky's mom just likes giving ponies a challenge.”
“Will her cello be in the background along with the moon?” Sonic asked curiously.
“Oh!” Brush Stroke exclaimed, “now there's an idea, I like it!” Quickly he grabbed a nearby pencil, taking it up in his mouth and he sketched in the cello and moon as Sonic watched. “I’m sorry darling, but when inspiration strikes you must act, no?”
“Please continue,” Sonic wasn’t about to tell the painter to stop. It was something of a privilege to watch a pony demonstrate their skill. “It will take Shoe at least thirty minutes or more to work on Dusky.”
“Oh thank you! Feel free to have a look around if you wish, the rest are landscapes.” Working quickly while Sonic perused the many canvasses that lined the walls and were stacked on the floor, Brush Stroke finished the sketch and, seizing his brush in his mouth, began painting in block colours.
“To be honest I love the chalk artists and the ones that paint sides of buildings.” Sonic commented as he looked at the landscapes for any urbanscapes. “Do you like a good prank?”
“Hmm, I enjoy a good laugh, why?”
“Take an ‘in progress’ photo,” Sonic chuckled, “then photshop in pink stockings on Octavia. Send it to Luna for approval via Octavia.”
“Why yes,” Brush Stroke giggled, “I do believe that would be an excellent prank! Mind you from what I hear,” he switched to a smaller brush, highlighting the grey fur of Octavia's body, along with the patches of lighter fur that were present now, “there will be a huge prank played tomorrow night, correct?”
“Yes,” Sonic nodded, “why the effort to turn Dusk properly into Dusky. We will go in, get served, have a great evening on crappy high end Canterlot food, do a big reveal and the service will match the food. Either they will forcibly eject us with the law, or we sit around waiting for better service or just get bored and leave. Omega is part of our group.” He laughed out loud, “I don't think you've seen our butch mares in their stallion gear either.”
Now Brush Stroke laughed, resting his brush on his palette. “Now that does sound like fun, I’ve never been ejected from a restaurant before, then again I've never been to Canterlot before either.” He switched to shading the colours, “at first I thought Dusky was having me on, when he told me about his experience with Vocal Chord. And no, I haven't encountered your butch mares dressed up.”
“It's Mapper and Tempest. I'd tag either ass.”
“Yes I'm sure,” the artist laughed, almost dropping his brush. “Am I correct in saying your mare isn't always a mare for you?” He asked while he worked.
“She is not.” Sonic confirmed. “While I enjoy including this role play there are times when I just need a stallion.”
“Hmm…” Brush Stroke said thoughtfully, switching to Luna’s mane and adding a bit of something to it, a special light reacting paint that made the mane appear to shimmer and move. “I got the idea to dress Dusky up at the open mic when you told me of her makeover. “He really seems to have taken to it, and Dusk does so adore being Dusky.”
“When Shoe is Shoe she is all mare.” Sonic explained, “When Trails is Trails he is all stallion. For me it is the venue and activity, and some begging from my mate.”
“Dusky does seem to have lost herself in the role…” Brush Stroke commented as he swished more of the special reacting paint onto the tail. “Between us my sweet little pony has a submissive streak a mile wide, and I think the dress scratches his itch for attention.”
“I would agree with you.” Sonic said as he watched the talented artist create his beautiful work. “My mate tends to be submissive to me but I should repeat tends. He will surprise me now and again.”
Meanwhile, back in the living room of the apartment, Shoe was finally finished with Dusky’s makeup – twenty minutes after she started – and moved back to admire her hoofiwork. “Do you want to try on the prosthetic sweetie?”
“Oooh yes please!” Dusky gushed like a filly and clapped her forehooves together. “Do you really like my dress, Shoe?”
“I love the sweep over the flank.” Shoe nodded, “I'm going up scale country, I'm hoping to start a trend.”
“Maybe you will, if Brush likes it maybe he'll get me one,” she giggled, “I just like the graduating blues of the dress against my midnight blue fur.”
“Well we need to get you out of this beautiful yellow dress so I can help you put it on.”
Dusky practiced the feminine voice as she replied, “Oh of course, thank you for the help, Shoe.”
“It's my pleasure darling.” Shoe smiled. “We mares know the finer things in life.” She giggled, “And it is a good thing we like anal.”
Dusky whispered, “between us mares, I do love it up there.” She giggled and helped the pink earth pony to remove her everyday dress.
“Okay,” Shoe led off, “this is a form of cock bondage so let’s take this and you can do it yourself, just lay on your back.” When Dusky rolled over on her back on the couch, Shoe slid the elastic over the pegasus’s sheath and pulled it back till the vulva slipped up the back side. “This is really going to push your balls into your abdomen.”
Dusky took the elastic as she was instructed and slid it over the sheath and she felt immediately what Shoe had said. “Oh, oh my it does, doesn't it?” She squirmed, “I'm sure I'll get used to it.”
“Okay then, this fish line strap goes over your barrel and clips to the prosthetic.”
“Okay.” Dusky smiled as the strap was applied over her barrel, “You wear this often, sweetie?”
“The truth is I come out to play about one third the time.” Shoe replied quickly as she fixed the strap firmly in place. “Or when I'm doing a show at a club.”
“Hmm…” Dusky cooed, “I could be like this all the time, I was a bit uncertain at first but Brush really loves my dresses.”
“I wish you all the happiness then.” Shoe smiled warmly and gently nuzzled the pegasus’s cheek. “It is good to make your stallion happy.”
She giggled, “Dusky knows what her stallion likes.” She flicked her charcoal grey mane, “He especially loved the pony tail.”
“Gives them something to hold on to.” Shoe commented.
Dusky giggled behind her hoof. “Do you know that's just what he said?”
“I like to wear a braid, but it is usually a mane extension so my lover must be careful where he grabs.” Shoe commented as she smoothed Dusky’s midnight blue fur over the strap so that it was invisible. “Now, I'm not sure how often we will have you wear this as my lover likes the look when he mounts me. Some don't like the look though, but it is wonderful for going out in drag.”
Dusky ran her hoof through her charcoal grey mane, mane longer by the extension that Shoe had woven into it. “I'm lucky mine is this long naturally, I'm going to grow it out longer though.” She smiled a wide smile. “It might have been Brush's idea for the dress at first, but I've grown to really love them, and who doesn't want to look fabulous?”
“You know it dear.” Shoe replied, “let me brush you so all the details of the prosthetic disappear and it is all you.”
The pegasus opened her hind legs slightly. “Okay sweetie,” once again she swallowed and used the voice. “How is this sounding now, dear?”
“Practice and it will come naturally to you, but you're doing very well.” Shoe replied and gently used the brush all around and under her barrel, her undercarriage and her back side. “Can you pole dance dear?” Shoe asked as an idea came to her.
“A little,” Dusky replied, “and I do mean a little, why sweetie?”
“We could have a filly's night out and dance at a club I know.” Shoe giggled with a wink. “Ready for me to call in the gentlecolts?”
“My friend showed me some showmare dance moves once. I can show them to you.” Dusky giggled, “go on, give the colts a shout.”
“Okay, back to door, tail up and then act all indignant that you were caught undressed.” Shoe directed her new friend where and how to stand. “We will put a bit of your dress back on.” Once Dusky was stood where she wanted her, her back to the studio door, she hiked her tail up high and about halfway into her dress Shoe said, “You look marvellous darling!” She said loudly.
In the studio room, Sonic heard Shoe’s voice and took the cue. “Shall we check up on the mares, Oils?”
Smiling, Brush Stroke put down his palette and brushes and turned from his painting. “Why not, darling, I'm eager to see what's been done!”
Waiting for Brush Stroke to exit the studio, Sonic followed behind the mid blue earth pony artist as he trotted over the hardwood flooring. Catching sight of his Dusky all made up in her dress, with the makeup on her already effeminite muzzle as well as the prosthetic between her hind legs the stallion stopped dead in his tracks. “Oh…oh…oh my…”
“I say!” Dusky exclaimed, going full on Canterlot accent coupled with the mareish voice she had been taught, “What ruffian interrupts a lady while she's dressing?! Out sir, out at once!”
Caught unawares by the vehemence in the mare’s outrage, Sonic backed into the studio while Brush Stroke backed into the door frame, hurriedly adjusted himself and backed into the studio with Sonic, his mouth hanging wide open. He gave an awed whisper. “Did…did you see that?”
Sonic merely chuckled. “Feels like I've entered the wrong dressing room back stage.”
Brush Stroke, quickly recovering from his shock as the mares in the living room erupted in fits of giggles began to also quickly get aroused. “My Dusky looked so hot!”
“She did,” Sonic agreed, “Her eyes are very attractive.”
“Mmmm…they are, aren't they?” Brush Stroke said in a very dreamy voice. “She looked just perfect, Sonic.”
