My Little Toy

Chapters

Episode: 1
An Episode with the Lotus of the SPA: 2
Testing, Testing: 3
A Party: 4
After the Party, Extraction: 5
Starlight’s Episode: 6
In Twilight: 7

Episode: 1

As I enter the small room, I see a transparent version of what could otherwise have been passing for a solid version of a pony. While the mare is clearly transparent, the outlines are still clear enough to make it obvious what I have before me.

“Verbal commands; enabled!” the white unicorn mare exclaims.

Of course, she only explain how I am to direct the hologram; to adjust to what I need in the room.

“Are you Rarity?” I inquire.

“I could be, if you want me to!” she responds, giggling delightfully, in the manner one had been expecting the real Rarity to.

“Thank you!” I respond, and the mare slowly starts to change into Rarity.

Before I even realized it, she is now the white marshmallow in the shape of Rarity. Her main and tail turning a rich, deep purple and taking on the fashionable curls. She smiles generously at me, with blue eyes. The light blue eye-shadow and glistering, black eyelashes fluttering.

Is it possible to make a few small last minute adjustments?” I inquire.

“Certainly!” she offers, with a wide grin and a suggestive wink to me.

“While I do love your mane, but could you style it like Starlight glimmer did as a filly?” I inquire, only to see her mane change.

“Oh, but of course!” she merely responds.

“Silver metallic would be better, for eye-shadow; if you don’t mind me saying so!” I add, tentatively.

She merely giggles, while her eye shadows change, according to my latest suggestion.

“Would you like for me, to have more emphasized, delicate hooves? Purple, perhaps?” she inquires, almost as if she had read my mind.

“Sounds delightful!” I respond, as I look at her hooves changing.

Being a mare, she still does not have any fetlocks. Her hooves are perfectly effeminate, and equine; for all I could see. I lick my lips, but manage not to drool, as I look at her slowly changing into what was imagining.

She is clearly relishing in my approval. I could not complain.

“For a pony, longer lashes is always better!” I ponder; “If you could have longer eyelashes, maybe as much as an inch?” I suggest.

“Oh, but of course!” she merely giggles in response.

I walk up to the white mare before me, looking at her from every possible angle to see how she is coming around. Then I even pat the length of her back, in order to get the feel for what I have before me. I notice how she is enjoying the sensation of my hand along her back, as if she had been hoping I would do just that. Of course, I could not resist the urge. Why?

She takes a step forwards and rise to her hind hooves, before her body slowly transform into a fully human body in my size. I can see her turning her back towards me, inciting me to look straight at her from behind.

While I look at her, a zipper slowly slips into existence from under her skin. The zipper then opens up from just under the edge of her hair, all the way down to the end of her spine. As I lean forwards to see better, I notice that she is turning into what is looking more and more like a full-body suit.

After a moment of hesitation, I move forwards and examine the suit before me. I choose to accept the suit as viable to wear; finding it too exciting, irresistible to resist and thus step right into the suit. I slip my feet right down to the floor and find myself standing securely and comfortably.

Once I stand with both my feet on the floor, I slip my hands in and push forwards, feeling the material slide over my skin with eager anticipation. A moment later, I realize that the head is sliding over my face. I am inside and the zipper soon seals itself tight behind my back.

Just as the zipper is sealed securely on my back, the suit is changing back into the pony I had just been examining. I find myself standing on all four hooves, as if I had been born a pony and it is natural to me.

“Okay, that was odd; but it still feels good, all the same!” I ponder.

“There you are!” Rarity exclaims, as I notice her entering the room.

While I am turning my back on the door through which I had entered the room, I notice her coming in through the door before me. She does look eager and excited, as if she is about to show me something. What could she possibly be offering me, right now?

While I largely do resemble her in appearance, this is supposed to be the actual Rarity. Not just a mere imitation posed before me, to guide me towards what I am looking for.

“Oh, but how could I forget!” she then exclaims.

I can see the light blue glow develop on her horn; starting as a small orb at the tip of the horn, growing in size and intensity, then slowly spreading down the entire length of her horn, before the light reaches out towards me and she is making my horn revert back and make me into an Earth-pony.

“Oh!” I merely respond.

I tentatively move my right fore-hoof forwards in an attempt to take a step forwards; suddenly feeling insecure in myself, once something more is actually expected out of me.

“Clip, clop! Clip, clop!” I hear, as my hooves hit the floor one at the time as I follow my Rarity through the door to the next room.

I feel the hard stone tiles under my hooves, smooth, hard and a light blue to cyan hue to them. The challenge had evaporated, as soon as I put my mind to following her. I want to follow Rarity, and see where she was about to take me. Whatever it is she had in mind for me.

Of course, I had chosen Rarity for a reason; not just because I love how she looks and how her voice sounds.

An Episode with the Lotus of the SPA: 2

The door quietly closed behind me, with a faint, yet distinct click and my path back had been sealed. There is no turning back.

“Clip, clop! Clip, clop!” I hear, as my hooves hit the hard, silicon white stone tiles of the room.

The floor does give me a hint of a clinical touch. Thankfully, the walls are a warm leafy green hue, in place of the cold white I am currently stepping on. The mosaic walls are permitting the beams of light dance merrily throughout the entire room.

A pair of doors slide up, on my right side. The room behind the previously unseen threshold looks as if it had been identical. Of course, on second thought; there is no way of making out any doors, or other features in this setting. I feel a cold, yet insistent shiver creep down the entire length of my spine; like a horde of minuscule spiders, trotting from the base of my skull, all the way down to the tip of my tail.

“I am Lotus!” she presents herself.

I notice that the mare before me is a light blue with just a slight hint towards a warm cyan to her coat colour. The mane and tail is a light pink, not too dissimilar to the style of a Fluttershy. This stylish pony is wearing a light eye-shadow, from what I could see, and her lashes had clearly been painted black and are glistering in the light of the room.

The doors close behind her, in the same manner the doors closed behind me; as I entered the room. I am recognizing a pattern here. Perfect privacy, even if it is a bit intimidating to the new pony. Me, in this case.

While I am not actually Rarity, she seems to recognize me as if I had been; not expecting me to present myself in any manner.

She trots up to me, hugs me warmly and kisses me on both cheeks, right and left. I even manage to catch a wink, before she is done with the warm and fairly passionate greeting ritual. Maybe I should have chosen another base, to model myself off of. Oh, well; too late to turn back now, she already greeted me. Besides, I have a chilling impression, of how I can’t step back and leave the room. Not without the treat she had in mind for me.

Maybe I should just resign? I can as well try to enjoy the treat, the treatment I had been booked for.

Just as she steps back, I feel a vibration under my hooves, as a platform is being elevated. She pulls out a cushion and places it onto the platform, winking at me.

“Mount it, it is time for your treat!” she points out, cooing insistently at me.

While the cushion does look like silk, it has a different sense of smoothness to it; almost as if it had been rubber or silicon. For now, I do not permit this to get in the way. If I don’t let anything get to my head, maybe I could actually enjoy myself. I had intended this to be a fun and enjoyable time to relax. Why back down, over a few minor and insignificant details now?

The cushion is soft and squishy. It isn’t inflated or stuffed with any regular cushion stuffing I know of or recognize. Maybe that is for the better, after all. I feel the cool touch under my belly, as the cushion is accepting and hugging me with unexpected and somewhat chilly warmth.

Maybe I could get used to how it feels, in which case I would not even feel the cushion at all. Although, I guess that could be even more chilling.

While I am distracted, she had already extracted a can of hoof polish. I could clearly see the can opened, as she is pulling out the brush with her mouth.

“Now, that is something I guess I could get used to!” I ponder, realizing what is about to happen.

She is picking up my right fore-hoof, in her own and slowly starts to brush my hoof in an experienced and efficient manner.

I notice how she manages to cover the entire hoof, and nothing but the hoof. Once she is done with the first hoof, she moves on to the next fore-hoof. She merely steps around me and continue with my hind-hooves, right and left.

While I wait for her to cap the first can and clean the brush; I try to relax, while the clear base gel is absorbed by my hooves and cures.

Once she is done, she is producing the hoof-polish, or lacquer. At least, it is what I imagine is in the second can she is opening for me. If it had been used before, or not; I do not care, it is irrelevant to the treat I am enjoying. Or, at least trying to enjoy. The treatment itself is actually quite comforting and relaxing. Maybe it is something in the privacy of the setting. I do not need to worry about anyone slipping into the room, seeing me here.

If anyone managed to enter, would they even recognize me?

“I love the warm, deep purple she gave my hooves!” I ponder, looking at her through the corner of my eyes.

“Since you put it that way, I will apply the top coat and seal the deal!” she points out.

I just nod at her, not quite realizing what she just had told me. Thinking this was merely a part of the regular hooficure. The first layer had merely polished up my hooves to a deeper gloss, while preparing for the lacquer. The lacquer added only the colour, giving it a bit more life and lustre. The third layer is sealing the deal, making the change irreversible. Once she started to apply the clear gel, the change is utterly irrevocable, final. There is no turning back, I am forever changed.

I look at her, as she is opening the can, picking up the brush and takes up my right fore-hoof in hers; before she is starting to apply the thick, clear gel. Hoof by hoof, she is applying the gel. I can see the gloss spreading over my hooves, one at the time. No turning back. If only I had known. Could I have stopped her, preventing her from sealing the lacquer in?

As the gel sinks in and is absorbed by my hooves, my hooves turns into solid rubber. Stiff, adamant; and highly elastic, but rubber nonetheless.

As I relax, my legs hang loose, limp along the sides of the cushion upon which I lie, comfortably.

“Close your eyes!” she coos, seductively.

While my eyes are closed, she applies a coat of clear gel on my eyelids and eye-lashes. While I did not know of it, but the gel has the same properties as the gel she used as top coat for my hooves. It is effectively sealing the eye-shadow and the mascara. Maybe I should not complain? I had chosen both eye-shadow and mascara, in the first place; after all. Besides, that is still irrelevant now, after I had my hooves polished.

“I enjoy being the marshmallow!” I ponder, imagining myself strutting around, as I am looking now.

As a matter of fact, I am indeed enjoying myself, quite Royally at that.

Since she is done with the make-up, the associated items had been slipped out of site. Out of site, out of mind; out of the way. How convenient.

I feel a pair of cool, hooves, slippery with massage oil on the back of my neck. Her hooves slowly working my muscles to a comfortable relaxed state, as she is undoing the effect of a stress full week. Life is tough, but a session at the spa could undue the harm, at least for the duration of a week-end. Even if the stress will return, my muscles had been saved from the toll; for now. I enjoy the touch of her hooves; much more so, than I had been expecting.

Of course, I had never been aware of even booking the massage, in the first place. Then again, why ruining the effect, of what I had been given. I had been imparted the treat, and I would be damned for refusing the treatment now.

I find her hooves quite hot, even if they are cold after repeatedly being dipped and coated by the cool oil of her trade. The oil does not spill or drip, but it is slowly spreading out over my back, as she is continuing down my spine. There is the intermittent sense of a stabbing, as she is hitting a particularly hard and resistant knot in my back-muscles. I could not blame her, but comes to enjoy this after a while. I am reminded of where I am and why I am here.

This is her place, and it is her specialty. She had dedicated herself and her life, to giving me and every other pony coming her way. I am not offended by merely being the last in line. Then again; to her, I am a dear friend by the name of Rarity. She had demonstrated it more than enough, to me. The greeting spoke volumes, and I guess I still do enjoy it. She is such an endearing mare, in her very own right.

“Why do I find her so lovable, I have after all ever seen or even heard of her; before I arrived here, and she greeted me like a long-standing, dearly loved friend!” I ponder, unable to prevent a part of me and the Rarity-persona bicker in the back of my head.

Two slippery, oil drenched hooves, sliding all over my back as they explore me. I feel her hooves sliding down and over my luscious rump, continuing down my legs, all the way down to my freshly polished hooves.

She trots around me, from my back, to my face. She starts low, at the fore-hooves and works her way up to my chest and belly. I feel hooves moving up my rump. For a moment, I imagine her hooves slipping, or slipping in; but this never really happens.

Once more, she is trotting around me, before she is giving me the attention she thinks I deserve. Her hooves, slowly, gently prodding my face. The massage soon is at an end.

The oil slips away and vanishes; after she capped the jar in which she found it in the first place. My entire body is coated in slippery and glistering oil, from muzzle to rear hooves.

“You can open your eyes now, please!” she coos from behind me, while she is carefully brushing my tail from the tip and all the way up

“Oh!” I respond, and open my eyes as she is suggesting it.

“That feels good!” I then add, feeling my entire body relaxed and relaxing after the efforts she had just put into the massage.

“I think you will need this!” she then points out, as she is applying a lubricating, clear and glossy gel to my rear orifice.

“Oh!” I exclaim, as I feel the cool gel sliding over the rim of my orifice.

The gel has special relaxing properties I had not been prepared for. While it is making my muscles relax, it is also enhancing the sensitivity; I just do not know of it yet, because she is not engaging me to let on what is afoot.

How could I have forgotten?” she is cooing, in a teasing manner.

With that, she is applying gel to my lips. She is spreading the gel, quite generously; making me feel the gel spread into my mouth and all the way a few inches down my throat.

“What was that for?” I inquire.

“Nothing, just lip gloss!” she is teasing me, holding up a mirror before me.

She is putting the mirror away, once I had seen the reflection; before she is once more holding a brush in her right hoof, only to brush my mane carefully.

“This gel, or lip-gloss does feel a bit strange!” I soon realize.

While the gel does lend my lips that special high gloss finish of a wet look, but something is just off. I could not put a finger or hoof to exactly what is off, or wrong. Most gels and lip-glosses I know of, are supposed to make your lips soft, smooth and feel just a little bit wet; but this does still go just a bit over the top, in the regard. Just not enough to raise a warning, or red flag.

“I am done now, Rarity; you can come down, now!” she coos.

“Thank you, Lotus; this was divine, my dear!” I exclaim, as I slide down from the cushion and land on the floor.

There is a curious squeak, as my hooves hit the floor; yet, I pay it no heed, at the moment. Maybe I should have? Yet, I could not be bothered, lest the moment would be lost. I had after all enjoyed the treat and massage far too much, to chance it and spoil the moment on something this trivial. Besides, I am a Lady, I do not complain about everything. Even if I could whine like a little filly; if and when I was in that mood, and felt it right.

While I had made an effort, in separating myself from the Rarity model; I seem to become more and more just like her, the longer I am exposed to the setting in which I am currently finding myself. Is it in the treatment by Lotus, or in the products she had been using on my behalf, on my person?

The squeaks does not go away, but they are clearly drastically diminished, when I am taking my gentle, ladylike steps. I could always use this effect, as a cue; as to how I can move, as a lady. While it is silly, I am taking this serious as I am enjoying myself. It is still endearing, in my opinion, if I could say so myself.

A door is appearing before me. I am trotting slowly towards my new destination.

“Good buy and welcome back soon, Rarity!” Lotus exclaims.

She makes an effort in repeating the ritual of seeing me off, on my way out of the room.

“See you soon, Lotus!” I respond, returning each of her moves; the kisses and the hug.

I step through my door. The door on my right opens once again, and Lotus is trotting out of the room; to where she came from. The doors are closing behind me.

Testing, Testing: 3

The new room looks as if it was identical, to the one I just came from. That is the room, in which I had met Lotus and been treated to a wondrous massage. I am still feeling the effect of her efforts throughout my entire body. Glorious.

If the room had been identical, there would be a gurney on which I should endure yet another massage. Well, I would still enjoy the massage, just as I would enjoy seeing Lotus or Aloe. Just that the floor is slightly different, even if I had not yet seen the hint of it.

Since I can not see the doors, before they are open, I can never say where or even if there is a single door in the room.

The door behind me, had swiftly closed behind me. I had barely heard the distinct click, when the doors shut closed behind me.

I still do not have a clue, as to how the place is managed or controlled. Lotus never explained it. As if she was supposed to make the effort of explaining the workings of the room to me, when she was busy caring for my comfort.

“As the guest; my comfort is everything. I do not need to know how the room works, or any details around her business!” I ponder, while I am leisurely stepping forwards in the small room.

To the right, two doors swoosh up. The doors are indeed, exactly where I had been expecting them to be; just where they had been, in the previous room. Only this time, neither Lotus, nor Rarity trotted out. In their place, Pinkie Pie is walking out.

“Hiya, Rarity!” she exclaims, greeting me.

Of course, just as she speak; the doors close behind her, with a characteristic click. The room is closed; there is no way of pointing out where either of the doors were, not even the once I had just seen.

“Hi, Pinkie Pie!” I respond, recognizing the pink girl stepping into the room.

There is simply no way in hell, not to recognize her anywhere. It is not just in her pink skin and deep pink, tightly curled up hair. It is more in the energy and enthusiasm that is radiating from her, as if she had been a radiator about to blow up due to a long-term and extensive overload. Then again, she just could not be bothered to follow the rules of reality; like any other girl in class.

Today, she is wearing a pink shirt and short skirt, with her signature set of blue and yellow balloons. She needs no make-up or manicure. She is sporting a bright, infectious smile and looks at me with her large, bright blue eyes.

I notice that she is applying her usual squeaky and bouncy step, as she is approaching me.

“Okay, prepare yourself for the fun and games!” she exclaims, as I approach the center of the room.

She is opening what appears to be a pair of doors in the floor. Behind the gates, is what she is referring to; as the fun and games. Looking down, I could see the undercarriage of what is supposed to be a rocking-horse. Instead of wood, I see the glistering black rubber, matching my hooves. What my hooves had turned into, in the previous room with the help of Lotus.

“Curious!” I ponder.

If I step onto the rubber frame, would I become an integral part of the rocking-horse? Could I step off of this contraption, afterwards?

“Would you step onto the purple hoof-print, please!” she instructs me, in her bubbly voice and giggle.

“Okay, Pinkie!” I respond, trusting my friend.

I place my right fore-hoof on the first purple print I could see; then I continue with the right hoof. Right and left, right and left. With that, all four of my purple hooves are in place.

Pinkie Pie leans forwards and touch something, by the side of the rocking-horse carriage and the squishy liquid recedes. Once the black rubber is completely dry, it is slowly moving up to floor level, even if that is merely three inches above where I had found it.

“Press down your right fore-hoof please!” she adds, and apply a clear gel along the rim of the hoof as I comply.

“Was that a squeak? Suction-cup hooves??” I ponder

I had failed to notice where she got it from, just as I had failed to see when she uncapped the tube. Even if she is literally standing right before me, and all the way up in my face. This is after all Pinkie Pie.

If she is truly the genuine Pinkie Pie, but she could have been here long enough for the persona to take hold of her; then it would simply have consumed her entirely. Or is there anything left, of whomever she was before she slipped into the role as Pinkie Pie? I guess that is irrelevant, by now. She is Pinkie Pie now, with everything that comes with it.

“Give your right fore-hoof a tentative tug, before you press down your left fore-hoof, please!” she continues.

My hoof is stretching, but refuses to let go of the rubber it is placed upon.

“My hoof does not let go!” I comment, as if asking for some kind of approval.

“Quite correct, just as it should be!” she responds.

I press down my left fore-hoof, and she is applying the gel all the way along the rim of the hoof. I can see her applying the gel with the tip of the index finger of her right hand. There is but the thin line along the rim of the hoof, glistering for about a minute, before the gel dries up and is no longer visible to the naked eye.

“Give your left fore-hoof a tentative tug, before you press down your right hind-hoof, please!” she is instructing me.

I quietly follow her instruction to the letter; finding the hoof sticking to the rubber under my hoof, before I press down the hind-hoof. While I watch, she is applying the gel along the rim of the hoof while I am pressing it down.

“Give your right hind-hoof a tentative tug, before you press down your left hind-hoof!” she is instructing me.

“Okay!” I respond, as I tug at my right hind hoof, but to no avail; the hoof is sicking to the rubber.

“Give your left hind-hoof a tentative tug, please!” she is exclaiming

“This is strange, but I guess I could do it for Pinkie Pie!” I ponder, as I comply.

“Oh, wait; you don’t have any more hooves, right?” she exclaims, and a flood of rioting giggles escapes her lips.

While she is still standing behind me, she is giving my rump a firm push. I find my hooves all stuck on the carriage of the rocking-horse. I start rocking, like the rocking-horse she just turned me into. While my hooves are stuck and locked in place, I can’t move my legs in the least.

“What?” I exclaim, as the situation is starting to sink in.

“You are a rocking-horse; just for the day, Rarity!” she explains.

“Wait, a rocking-horse? You don’t say!” I respond.

Of course, all my hooves are stuck in place, when I am pushed, I am rocking like a rocking-horse. As much as I may try, I can’t pull a single hoof free by myself right now; just as I can’t move my legs out of position. Aside from my neck, and my head; I am effectively immobile, as if I had indeed been a toy, or a rocking horse.

“One small detail, just for the filly!” she points out; as she is inserting a plug, into my rear orifice.

“You are such a rarity, Rarity!” she adds.

The plug may be clear, just as it is firmly riveted into me; yet, the surface you can see is still a matching white marshmallow, leaving a perfectly smooth surface.

“Part your lips, gently!” she instructs me, after she has examined my rear end.

“Okay!” I ponder.

Seemingly, from out of nowhere; she is pulling out a clear plug, five inches long and two inches in diameter, slipping it in between my slowly parting lips. I clearly feel the highly elastic, clear silicon slide in between my lips, into my mouth an inch down my throat. There is no way, I could have resisted the insertion in my current state.

“If I had not already been mute, since she slipped the plug into my rear orifice; she has effectively gagged and muted me, by filling my mouth to the brim with this one!” I realize, at the instant the plug slipped in between my lips.

“At least, I can breathe through my nostrils; even when that plug is in my mouth!” I ponder.

“There, that should give you the desired expression!” she points out.

The plug is still left in place, while I am left to enjoy my situation. What had been passed for lip-gloss, or possibly a lubricant of some kind; now cured, hard, yet deliciously elastic. After about a minute, it is effectively holding my lips, mouth and throat in a solid and irrefutable grip.

If she was to extract the plug, now lodged in my mouth; my expression would still remain. Would she keep the plug in my mouth permanently? Of course not, she merely permits the effect to sink in fully. As if it I who needs to feel and realize exactly what it all means.

She looks into my eyes, seeing exactly what she had been hoping for. Gripping the outer edge of the plug and slipping it out as easily as she had inserted it. Effortlessly.

My lips remains partly parted. Once the plug had been removed, I can feel my now empty mouth and my tongue is free to move unhindered.

I lick my lips, reveling in the new-found freedom, enjoying the sensation for but a moment.

The inside of my mouth feels as if coated in a slippery rubber, and my mouth feels as if it had been made out of the very same rubber. Too stiff for me to move. Yet, too elastic to resist an item inserted, at will. If my sensations and realization is holding up; my tongue would be quite elastic, if engaged.

I did not want to dwell upon the situation and what it was imposing upon me. While I do enjoy the freedom granted, by extracting the plug from my mouth.

“One small detail, before I can present you to the real test!” she exclaims.

“What is that, Pinkie Pie?” I ponder, knowing full well I could not ask her that now.

Even without the plug in my mouth, I am rendered utterly mute, and thus incapable of speech. I could not even gesture, to make the point. All I can do now; is to blink or nod. I can keep my eyes open or closed, just as I could hold my head high or low.

She still knows everything she wants to know; everything she needs to know. I could neither give her more details, or deny her as much as a single one of them. As if I could deny her anything? Not right now, in any case.

I notice how she is closing the doors in the floor; before she is pulling out a black, rubber saddle in my size. How she knows, other than being Pinkie Pie, I have no idea.

The saddle slips right onto my back, as if she had been an expert in the field. I feel the smooth, solid rubber slide up along my back until it stops, just in the right spot. Aside from the weight of the rubber, I can’t really claim that I am actually feeling the saddle at all.

Casting a glance back, at my back; I clearly see the glistering black rubber, that makes up the saddle squarely on my back. I can see that this saddle is made for a human, such as I had been until I entered this maze of impossibilities.

“Normally, I would have loved to ride you out onto the field; but under the circumstances, I will just have to make due with pulling you out! I could always enjoy riding you after the party?” she exclaims, giggling.

Of course, she is thinking of the party she had planned and is about to throw.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” I ponder, giggling inwardly at the situation, knowing she could actually make this happen.

I knew she could, just as I know she will, even before I had followed the line of thought to the bitter end. The thought is not bitter, but lined with an ironic humour to it. It is the kind of situation, one could but laugh at.

There are no wheels under me, just as the carriage of me as a rocking-horse is not slippery enough for her to pull me around anywhere.

She may be a human here, but I know her as a pony as well; an earth-pony with unpredictable capabilities and just as impossible to predict the response of. Even as a human, she is still capable to pull just a bit too many aces out of her sleeves. Of course, the jokers are hidden within the curly swirls of her hair.

A new pair of doors slide open before me, before what could only pass for rail-road track slide into the room. I could but gasp, at the absurdity of it all. The situation simply permitted me no second prances today.

Once the rail had slipped in under me, a cart is following the tracks on matching wheels. But of course, that is what she had planned for all along.

Once she had me onto the cart, she can easily push me out of the room. The track withdraws and the doors close behind me. Apparently, this part of the adventure is at an end.

In place of the white stone tiles on which I had been before, there are now green tiles. Another strange difference, is that the luscious leafy grass is feeling more like rubber.

“How could I possibly know or feel the grass under my hooves, if I am still a rocking-horse?” I ponder, finding myself dumbfounded and aghast.

A Party: 4

I had been turned ninety degrees to the right, for some reason. Maybe she wanted me to face in a new direction. I am no longer looking, as if I had merely been pulled out of the proverbial closet.

A white girl is walking up from behind me. I guess she could have been Sweetie Belle, but I am not entirely certain. If I had seen her face, I think I would have known, though.

She is wearing a pair of black rubber tights reaching up to an inch above where her belly button should have been seen. Even if she is walking on the green grass, I can still hear the distinct sound of a pair of hooves.

While her legs are fairly mate, almost as if it is intended to look like skin; her hooves are well rounded and metallic bloody red, glistering as if newly polished. On second thought, it sounds almost, as if she had been wearing steel shoes. Horses are wearing shoes, made out of stainless steel, so her hooves would fit well enough. Just that her shoes are not nailed on or even glued into place. They simply seems to have a natural fit, permitting them to hang onto the underside of her hooves.

The face of the girl, covered by an equine mask; denying her human ears and replacing them with the equine variety, right alongside the eyes to go with them. Naturally, she is also sporting the diminutive muzzle that goes with the face. Oddly enough, it does actually look as if the mask had merely been painted rubber on her face; not a mask, designed to change the looks and behaviour of the human wearing it.

She wears a pair of elbow-length gloves completing the set. A seamless fit, just as expected. Slender and effeminate hands, sporting perfectly sculpted semi square nails. She had also been given these bright cerise, highly sensitive touch pads you may have recognized on a cat. To top it all of, the palm of each hand is a silicon white suction-cup.

She is also wearing a bright red top and skirt, matching her hooves. Since this is not a nudist party, nipples and other genitalia are not publicly visible.

The little girl I take for Sweetie Belle is scanning the room and soon finds me, where I had been placed for her enjoyment. While I am not here for her exclusively, she is the first to spot me. She is hasting her steps, clearly excited to try out the first toy or entertainment on the set.

Strangely enough, I am not surprised by her behaviour; the excitement to see me as a toy or a rocking horse, just as her age being somewhat different from the age she should have been in. She is neither the lower end of grade-school, not a fully grown adult; but rather in the middle of her teenage. Maybe she should have been excited by the rocking-horse, had she been about ten years of age?

I find myself enjoying the sounds of her hooves hitting the ground, while she is walking up towards me. I notice her stopping to the right of me, before she is ogling me with more excitement and fachination, than I had thought would be called for and in her character. If it is my likeness, or the promised toy, I have no idea. Maybe I should not really care.

Once she had stared enough, she steps up to me and pulls down the stir-up on the right side. I see her walking around me, and notice how she is pulling down the stir-up on the left side of me. She walks around me, as if making a point of showing off before me.

With a side-glance, I notice how the stir-ups match the shoes on her hooves. Perfectly. It is, as if they had been made for her.

She is placing the left hoof on the stir-up, lifts her right hoof and throws the leg over in a perfect arch; ending up sitting comfortably, on the saddle on my back and slips her right hoof onto the second stir-up.

Granted, I am not all that tall; as a pony named Rarity, but she is doing this very well, she is great at mounting a pony. Without a bridle and reins, it is fortunate; that I am a rocking-horse and not an actual pony.

I feel her leaning forwards, thus pushing her weight and I am starting to tilt with her. Just as I am tilting as much as the initial effort would permit, she is suddenly pushing backwards and gives me force to start tilting backwards. She had granted me the initial energy to do what I had been intended to do.

Once she had initiated the motion, she needs merely follow the flow and react to my motion. Slowly pushing me to rock, as hard as she wants me to; in order for her to enjoy herself.

I may be larger, than the common rocking-horse; just as she is larger, than the girl commonly mounting the common rocking-horse. Since she does not mind, neither do I. Why permit the situation getting away, and between yourself and having a good time?

While I do not feel her rump on the saddle on my back, I still do feel the weight of her body on my back. I do not feel her hooves in the stir-ups, but that had never been expected or implied. I do still feel her firm legs on the sides of my body.

After a moment, maybe a minute or two, I feel her hands on the sides of my neck. She is not exactly holding on, for dear life; yet, she is holding her hands on the sides of my neck in what I find comfortable and enjoyable.

“This is fun, Rarity!” she blurts out, as if by mistake.

Had she still recognized me, all along? Why should my restyled mane and possibly lacking cutie-mark fool anyone, or Sweetie Belle, of all ponies?

“If I could recognize her, why shouldn’t she recognize me?” I ponder; giggling inwards, at the entire situation, in which I had found myself.

While the saddle is just gold and stiff rubber, and the stir-ups are just as cold steel; but my neck is still warm and soft. I feel the warmth of her body, through the palms of her hands. How could I miss or refute it, and how could she? Maybe this is stirring her excitement, and making her enjoy the ride all the more; or it will turn her off, soon.

“If only you could speak, Rarity! I have so much to tell you!” she exclaims, bothered by how I am but a rocking-horse.

I can feel her, her emotions in the palms of her hands. Had I always been this sensitive, or is it in the imposed changes? The fact that I am a pony, while she is not; can’t come between us, not now since she has declared that she is recognizing me.

“While I can not speak or write, but I can still listen to every word you say!” I ponder; nodding my head, vigorously and emphatically.

Was muting me the point, or just a side-effect of the process? Naturally, I have no idea. Not now. Did I know before the process was initiated? I could as well have chosen it to be this way. Just that I can not know that now. I could have asked for myself, not to know.

Do I want to know? Do I need to know? Probably not. Why would I need or want to know? I enjoy the scenario, such as it is playing out. I am Rarity, and she is obviously Sweetie Belle. She had admitted to it, in how she recognized me. That much is obvious to me, now.

While this is no challenging exercise on either her, or me, but I guess the shared excitement could be. If we stay and share the moment, long enough. This is a moment. If it is a minute, an hour; or a day, does no real difference. Not to me, and most likely not to her.

Why did I never take the time, just sharing a moment like this, with her?

“Why did I never tell you, just how much I love you!” Sweetie Belle points out.

“Aside from the fact that you were too much like a mother to me, for that to come out right!” she continues.

“I was the adult, and she clearly was the child, or foal!” I ponder.

“I understand that you had your business to tend to. Clients to serve. Most of the time, I was too young and inexperienced to see it, or to understand the pressure this does put on you in the first place!” she says.

“Yes, she was too young and inexperienced. There was never the right time to explain!” I ponder.

“How does a lady explain, the pressure she is under, without sounding as she was whining?” I ponder.

Now I giggle at the situation, coming out almost as if I had been neighing. I still do breathe and draw in air. If I exhale it just right, I could apparently make a limited range of horse-noises. How amusing and utterly timely.

I know she could feel it, and she is clearly hearing me; now since I managed to find my voice, even if it is limited to horse-noises. Or, is it still pony-noises? Either way, I had found my voice, a voice she can hear.

I can’t say anything to her, just as I could only make a few noises. I can’t really control my voice. Could I even express true excitement with my voice, as if I had been screaming as I hit my first orgasm? Probably not. Maybe this was the original intent.

Of course, I am prevented from having an orgasm. I am plugged up and can’t be touched. She can touch me, by body; but that doesn’t mean I can be touched and stimulated in the manner required.

“Is she opening up; because I can’t speak or voice my opinion, or is it bothering her?” I ponder.

“Why does this make me wish, I could sit down with her and have a serious and heart-felt talk?” I ponder.

In a sense, the situation is exciting me; just not in the manner screaming out for a touch or an orgasm. I feel a closeness I wish I could have had before. I never had this kind of closeness, and not quite this intimate and personal, either.

She is patting my neck, in the manner one would pat one’s horse or mount, not in an intimate manner. It is not exactly exciting or intimate, yet it still feels fulfilling in a way I had been yearning and never knew I had been missing.

She is not patronizing. This is quite appropriate for the situation. After all, I am a pony, a rocking-horse. Not her mother or sister; or even a friend or a lover. Maybe I wish that could have been, but it is not the way of things. Not right now.

“Would she wish; that we could have been lovers?” I ponder; catching me, before the thought goes anywhere further.

After several minutes, I realize I am slowly growing aware of her weight on the saddle on my back. It is not just the weight of her body resting limply on my back. I feel her body move, and the pressure of her rump shifting back and forth in the saddle. I feel her knees pressing gently against my sides. Little by little, moment by moment; the experience is changing as I am growing aware of the sensation developing and becoming all the more acute as time is passing. Is she consciously changing; or is it I, who is growing aware of the situation.

I want to speak. I want to ask her, but there is no point. I can’t voice the one question.

The more I struggle, the more the pressure in my mouth is making itself known and continues to impose its power over me.

“Wait, is that how I could make the neighing noises, when I giggle? The sound did never origin from within my mouth, but far enough back in my throat to actually pass through!” I ponder.

Once the plug had been extracted from within my mouth, the gel had already set, due to being fully cured at the time. The gel is effectively a tube, made to my exact measures. I could not have prevented the effect, once the gel had been applied to my lips.

The realization made me giggle, I can’t quite hold back; what should have been laughter, had the effect of the gel not prevented me. Even if I guess I am still trying to hold it back, being a lady and all that. I do have my pride, after all. It isn’t if I could change who I am.

At least, I am alone with my sister; Sweetie Belle. The little girl I was caring for, all these years. My parents did not abandon us, but Sweetie Belle had still lived with me, at the Carouselle Boutique. She had lived with me, in Ponyville, where she had met her friends and finally acquired her cutie-mark. The crusaders had managed to have quite a few adventures.

So many memories flooding my mind; memories of my family and business in Ponyville, and all the fun I had had with my other friends all over Equestria and beyond. Even if I guess, these places are parts of Equestria by now.

The longer the time with my sister persists, the more I feel in tune with her and being a pony. I feel the weight of her in the saddle, and I hear her voice with each and every nuance, as she is speaking to me.

Since I can’t voice my thoughts, it will have to be limited to her, speaking to me. I do not quite feel the passage of time, even if I am aware of my heart-beats and my breathing. Maybe it is the excitement about having her with me, as she is riding me as the rocking-horse that is exciting me.

The effort on her part is next to nothing, she is after all just sitting in the saddle on my back. While she is speaking, but that could never be considered an effort on her part. Her words, as she is speaking to me; directing my thoughts away from before and who I may have been before I entered this room. Do I regret it, or should I? Why? I enjoy the moment. A moment with my sweet sister to treasure for as long as I live.

I do not miss a word, and I do not get lost in my own thoughts. Doing that would ruin the moment.

“Will you remember me, next time we meet?” she inquires.

While the question may sound out of place, but the situation still is calling for the question to be uttered.

I nod vigorously, emphasizing my response as best I can in the situation.

“Good, because I intend to be back soon. I just have a few things to attend to!” she points out.

I nod in understanding. Just that I don’t know when she will be back, or if I will still be here when she is returning.

“I will see you soon!” she exclaims, as she is sliding off of my back and down onto the floor.

She is standing on the right side of me, patting my shoulder enthusiastically. I nod and look at her; then I wink. Of course, once she is by my side, I could flash facial expressions at her. She sees the wink and smiles, returning the wink.

“See you, Rarity; I will be back, soon!” she exclaims, before she is turning away.

I see her walking. She is turning back and winks at me, before she continues to walk away. I hear the sound of her hooves, as she is continuing towards where she intends to go.

Interesting, now I can’t quite grasp a single memory of before I came to this place. Just a few scattered memories of the home in Ponyville, my friends, my sister and a few adventures.

After the Party, Extraction: 5

The party had been fun, even if I had been the rocking-horse attraction. I had seen my sister, Sweetie Belle, and she had been riding me. I think she had been enjoying the time, together. At least, it is what she said, and the impression I have of how she had been reacting.

While the lights had not been dimmed down, or shut down yet; but, the party is clearly over.

A girl is walking towards me. I recognize her. The purple girl is what I could only describe as a unicorn.

“Hello, Rarity!” she exclaims, as she is walking up towards me.

Since I can’t speak, I merely make due with nodding to her. She continues to walk towards me, still smiling brightly.

“Starlight Glimmer!” I realize.

I am still happily smiling; since the time Sweetie Belle came over. I had been enjoying myself and the time shared with my dear sister. Even if she was older, than I could remember her.

“I am here, in order to take you in for the night; the party is over, and you will need some sleep to manage to be fun tomorrow!” she points out.

“Oh!” I ponder.

“Of course I will need to sleep!” I realize.

Even if a pony could sleep, standing up, but I am not a horse. As a rocking-horse, I can’t move enough to do anything more than nodding or hanging my head. I doubt that would have been comfortable, to sleep in this manner.

Once she had reached my position, she is lifting me up and pushes me back into the room I had come from; before I had entered the party, but after I had been turned into a rocking-horse.

The doors open before us, as she is pushing me. She continues to the middle of the room; while the doors close quietly, with a distinct click behind me, just after we are clear of the threshold. She is opening the doors in the floor, before she is pushing my cart the rest of the way. I feel the sinking sensation and the cart is clicking into position.

“I hope it did not bother you, too much; being mute, as a pony during the entire party!” she is teasing me.

I shake my head, then giggle at the situation. She is still speaking to me, as if I could have responded; even if I know, she is clearly aware of the fact that I am incapable of voicing my thoughts now. Even if I imagine she has not learned of the fact; that I could make a limited assortment of horse-noises. My giggle generally comes through, as a neigh.

“Good, Rarity!” she is commending me for the effort and success.

“Curious design, and quite the ingenious setup, this three dimensional labyrinth we use here!” she adds, giggling at the situation.

I nod, at her; acknowledging what she had just told me.

”Exactly, you can always nod and shake your head; as much as you please, no point in limiting that!” she explains.

“They told me that Rarity should be mute, how is she capable of neighing or making any horse-noises?” she ponders.

The realization of my vocal capabilities perplexes her, due to the fact that she never had been told or warned beforehand.

“Let me help you out of this rig!” she points out, pointing at the carriage of the rocking-horse I had been all day.

She is walking up to me, then takes a few more steps, before she is turning around to face me fully, once again. She is looking at me, for a good long while; showing hints of excitement. Maybe she did have other plans, for the rest of the night?

“Breaking the seal, that holds you in place is easy; if you can just reach down, and knows what you are doing!” she points out.

She walks forwards and bends over. I notice her extending the index-finger of her right hand as she is moving towards me.

She uses her nail to scrape the clear gel from the rim of the right hoof. While I can’t feel it, I soon notice the effect it is having on my hoof.

She moves over to my left fore-hoof and is repeating the process; smiling encouraging at me all the while she is doing it. Just that my hooves still stay in place, I can’t move my fore-legs just yet. Maybe she needs to break the seal on all fours, in order to break the hold on me. My body is effectively acting as if it had been moulded out of solid rubber.

“Just a moment, I will fix this; you will be out of this rig in no time!” she is promising me, while still grinning at me.

“The longer I am stuck in the rig of this rocking-horse and held in place by the seals; the more natural it is to just stand motionless, and think of one-self as just a toy!” I realize, then giggling at the entire situation.

I can still see her, where she is standing behind me and leaning over; while she is scraping the gel, breaking the last of the seal holding me down.

“There, just relax!” she points out, as the last remnant of the gel between my hooves and the rubber I am standing on is finally being removed.

I notice how she is polishing my hooves and cleaning the rig with a white piece of cloth.

“Just one more moment, I will have you out in no time!” she is reassuring me.

I stand still, as she is lifting my left hind-hoof off of the rig and leaving it clear of the under-carriage. She is repeating the process with my right fore-hoof. Moving forwards and repeats the process with both my fore-hooves; just in case, to make absolutely certain I am free to move.

With an effort; she manages to shuffle me to the left and closes the right door under me, before she is shuffling me up on the right door and closes the left door.

“There, that should do it!” she points out, giggling nervously.

This had been quite the strain on her, and she had been exposed to a few surprises more than she had been expecting.

After a moment of hesitation, I manage to lift my right fore-hoof and places it a foot forwards, repeating the process with one hoof at the time; right and left, front and rear. I take a few more steps, clearing the door entirely; just to make sure, before I could stop and take a breath of relief.

“There, now I could at least move and trot again!” I ponder.

I find myself relieved and feel a trickle of sweat, sliding over my brows.

“Finally!” she exclaims, clearly sharing my relief.

“Right this way, please!” she utters, as she is continuing, walking along the path towards the exit.

I nod, and follow her into the next room; where Lutus gave me the massage, earlier in the day. Of course, Lotus is not in the room. The doors had opened before Starlight, then closed behind me after I had stepped into the adjacent room. Everything works like a clock-work, even when I can’t see the machinery behind it all.

The room in which I had enjoyed the massage is empty, and shows no hint towards even being decorated. Just the floor tiles, and the walls looking exactly like when I had been here earlier in the day.

Another pair of doors open before Starlight, and I follow her; the doors are closing behind me, once I cleared the threshold. This is where I had slipped into the suit, turning me into a pony named Rarity. I am still the very same pony, named Rarity.

She is pointing me towards the center of the room, and I stop where she is indicating for me to stand. I face the doors through which I had just entered the room, patiently waiting for what is to come. She steps up behind me, examining my back. For a moment, I am fearing that she can’t even find the seam of the suit. That I am stuck in the suit and thus incapable of reverting to who I had been before.

“I am Rarity, so if the people here are humans, I would just become the human version of myself; wouldn’t I?” I ponder; not quite grasping the idea of being anyone, or anything other than Rarity.

After several minutes of searching, she does manage to find a hint of where the seam should be; just under the lower edge of my mane. The adjustments and the time as Rarity had managed to blur the lines and make the seam hard to find. She struggles with the seam, slowly splitting the suit open. She needs considerably more time than it had taken me to close the suit the previous time; considerably longer than she had expected the process to take, even with the complications taken into account. Maybe Pinkie Pie had managed to do this faster, but it is Starlight Glimmer in the room.

Pinkie Pie is a wizard, and manage what everyone would know to be impossible. I just could not bring myself to whine and complain about how long it takes her, even if I could have spoken up and voiced my thoughts. Which I can’t, at the moment.

Eventually, she does manage to open the suit fully. Once the entire seam is split and the suit is fully open; she starts pulling the head of the suit off of me, before she is sliding the suit back. Little by little, the suit does fall back and slips off of me; ending up, falling to the floor. I step out of the suit.

Nothing happens. I am still a pony named Rarity.

I look down at my glistering, purple hooves; admiring the visage, even if this may be the first and main reason why I am still a pony.

“Oh!” I ponder, only to realize that I am still utterly mute and start to giggle uncontrollably.

All she hears, is my neighing. Nothing more, and nothing less. She can’t understand anything of it. What had I been expecting?

“At least, I am nude. Maybe I could put on something fashionable!” I ponder.

“I could ask Twilight Sparkle to help you out, but you could as well stay as you are, for the occasion. I will still have to find you a place to stay, where you can sleep!” she points out.

I just nod, but hope she could find me a room over the night. I am not in the mood to bother poor Princess Twilight Sparkle just yet, if I am going to stay here a few more days.

“I am going to be here all week, playing Rarity for the event!” I ponder.

While it had been fun, I still do hope I will not be stuck as a rocking-horse again. Seeing my sister, Sweetie Belle had been enjoyable enough to make it worth everything. Maybe I could spend an entire day as a rocking-horse, just for her and a chance to spend the time with her.

“Even if you can’t speak; you can at least nod or shake your head as expressive as it is, aside from trotting around like any other pony!” she points out.

“I could always do that, and now I can move freely!” I ponder, in response to what she had just said.

“Maybe we could have a little fun, before we call it a night and trot off to your new home?” she inquires.

“Why not?” I ponder, nodding in agreement.

She turns towards the door opposing the one I had seen before. I notice how the pair of doors slide up before her and close behind me as I had cleared the threshold.

Once the doors had closed behind me, there is no way to know where the doors are, or if they are indeed even there. I am boxed in and trapped, for Starlight to do with as she pleases. I could do little to nothing about it, even if I guess I could buck her like an apple-tree; for what little good that would do me, in that case. As a Lady, I could not quite make myself do that; unless the situation did get that ugly. I doubt she would make that mistake.

There had been a pair of doors behind me. The other rooms had a pair of doors to my right, through which I had originally entered the room. There had also been a pair of doors to my left, through which I had exited the room; after I had done, what I had been intended to do in the room.

“Wonder what secrets this room could hold in store for me, and what it is hiding for her to make use of!” I ponder.

I scan the room, while she is considering, what she had had in mind for me; before she brought me into the room. Maybe she just wanted to sleep, with me?

She had not said anything, or given as much as a hint as to what was about to come next; but then she had simply vanished out of sight, she was gone.

Starlight’s Episode: 6

I stand in the middle of the room, behind where the massage bed would have been; had I been in the room where I had met Lotus, earlier in the day. With my tail facing the door I assume is leading out of the maze, based on previous experience.

I am shooting side-way glances, towards the door, where I half by half assumes and expect Starlight Glimmer to come back from. Patiently waiting, in a lady-like fashion. I could not make myself break character, even after she had liberated me from that holographic Rarity suit. Maybe I am still Rarity, or I could have been Rarity all along. Who is to say?

There is a noise from under the floor, I step back and a pair of door opens up; only to reveal the first hint of what she had in mind for the night.

“Oh, interesting!” I ponder, giggling.

This is neither the platform I had been enjoying the massage on, or a resting couch I had ever been familiarized with. Yet, it does give me the impression, one is to lie prone on the top of it. I take the hint and mount it from behind.

Once I am on top of it, I find the position quite comfortable, for the pony I currently am; while I could only guess it would not have been comfortable, for a human like Starlight Blimmer.

“Is that comfortable?” a voice inquire, and I nod in response.

“This, is a very different party; you see, Rarity!” the voice responds, giggling ecstatically.

“A party?” I ponder, giggling at the notion.

All of a sudden, I see Pinkie Pie stepping into view. Just as expected, she is pink and her hair is a tightly curled up, deep pink. There is no mistaking her.

“Let me introduce myself; my name is Pinkie Pie, and I am your party host, for the evening!” she exclaim, giggling even more.

Soon I realize, she has an infectious giggle very hard to escape. Of course it had to be Pinkie Pie; and this is apparently the kind of trick she had intended to pull on me, tonight.

“Since you did like seeing your sister, Sweetie Belle wearing these black tights with hooves; I could have Starlight Glimmer wearing a pair of tights for you, too!” she points out.

I nod, vigorously, approving of the idea; even if I guess she made it intrude upon something special.

“For you, I am prepared to make a few adjustments; just to make this all the more pun and exciting!” she continues.

“This certainly is Pinkie Pie!” I realize, nodding once again; “A few adjustments, would be quite all right!” I ponder, knowing she already had planned ahead.

“Pinkie Pie, is after all Pinkie Pie; she is always planning ahead, throwing parties left and right!” I recall.

Strange, how these memories and recollections are bleeding into the situation, of the here and now. If I am Rarity, I would have to remember the past. I am not forgetful, even if my memory isn’t even a shadow of hers.

The doors slide up, revealing Starlight Glimmer. Of course she had been nude, now slipping into the tights I had been promised. Slowly, in a teasing moment; right and left. I see her right foot slipping into the glistering black tights, sliding all the way down in painful slowness. Only once the foot had reached all the way down, does she place the electric metallic blue hoof onto the floor and shifts her weight. Now she is lifting the left foot up, sliding it into the tights and slip the foot all the way down. Is it actually taking her five or ten minutes to slip these tights on?

That is when I realize, just how engrossed I had been in the process of her slipping into a pair of glossy rubber ultra-tight tights. I can but guess I had enjoyed the tease, and that it had been worth my attention. Pinkie Pie had taken the opportunity; taking the liberty of helping me into the pose she had had in mind for me, all along.

“Could you press your hooves down, please! Harder, just a little bit harder?” she is cooing; as I am following her suggestions, as she is inciting me to slip into the pose and position; without even realizing what I was doing, or that I had even done anything at all.

This is what I get, for focusing single-mindedly, on what is before my eyes; when I am lying prone with Pinkie Pie in the room.

Starlight is picking up a mask, similar to the one Sweetie Belle had been wearing, earlier in the day. As opposed to her mask, this is a marshmallow white. The mask comes with highly detailed and emphasizing her feminine nature in a must stunning manner. Inch long, pitch black, glistering, inch long eye-lashes, progressively curled up and back onto themselves towards her. Her lips and eye-shadows, matching electric metallic blue; while her lips looks as if coated with the clear, slippery lip-gloss that may be doubling as a lubricant, going by the wet-look I see. Incidentally, it is also sporting a mid-teen unicorn horn that goes perfectly with her. The clock-wise spirals are clearly emphasized in a beautiful manner one could only dream of.

While I look at Starlight putting the mask on, after she demonstrated it to me and examined it; Pinkie Pie is posing my fore-legs with delicate care in order for my hooves to end up exactly where she had intended me to place them.

“If you press down your fore-hooves gently and make sure to hit the pad squarely, please! Harder, just a little bit harder; if you please, Rarity!” Pinkie Pie is instructing me; as she is guiding me into the final position, from which I will not be capable of escaping.

While I do rest comfortably on the squishy cushion under my belly; my hind legs are spread wide as my hooves are pressing down onto the pads behind me, while my fore-legs stay before, well out of the way.

“How could a girl even turn putting on a mask onto her face, into a strip-tease routine one would be excited by watching?” I ponder.

If only that had been the end of it. She is clearly prepared to extend her routine with a few more items, just for the pleasure of making me squirm even more.

I watch her picking a pair of elbow length gloves. The gloves are clearly matching her marshmallow theme, and are looking as if part of a beautiful sculpture, rather than a pair of gloves, I just realize.

While she is holding on to the sleeve with her thumb, index and long finger; she is sliding in her right hand all the way in with slow, practiced ease. At the end, she is flexing her fingers and giving the glove a few tentative tugs; in order to ascertain it is on just right and actually fitting her, as intended.

The palm of her hand is a slightly pink tinted suction cup. I see her crystal clear, inch long, semi square nails; looking as if polished to a perfect, high gloss to glister as if wet, in the sparsest of light. Just as her nails now starts, just after the final joint of each finger; the bright cerise touch pads starts, just at the final joint and continue all the way up under the nail. I could only imagine, just how sensitive and excitable the pads could be.

She had not told me or demonstrated, and I have never tried these gloves on myself.

I feel Pinkie Pie exploring my rump, before she is pulling out the plug with a distinct plop that has a curious sucking noise to it.

She is scoping up a portion of clear gel, applying it to my rear orifice and a few inches outwards; before she is taking her time to massage it in and caress my rump enthusiastically with passionate warmth, like none other than Pinkie Pie could even dream of.

“There, all yours, Starlight; make absolutely certain, to light her up and make her melt like hot wax!” Pinkie Pie is exclaiming, in a teasing voice and giggles.

“I will give her the treat of her life, rest assured!” Starlight merely exclaims.

“Could you lend me a hand and offer me some of that delicious gel?” Starlight inquires, just as Pinkie Pie was about to walk out.

“Sure thing, Starlight; of course I can!” she responds, spreading generous amounts of the gel and massaging it in.

Once Starlight is facing me, I can see the gel coating the head and halfway down the shaft. Even if her black tights are glistering in the light, the effect of the gel is still evident.

“I have been holding this up, far too long, Rarity; I will rectify this issue right this instant!” Starlight is promising.

“The strip tease and the preparations Pinkie Pie did take their sweet time!” I ponder, giggling at the situation.

Starlight Glimmer had demonstrated a flair of showmare-ship, the first time we met her. She had later demonstrated great leadership qualities as well, when she defeated Queen Chrysalis and saved us from the Changelings.

Now she is turning her eyes on me; focusing on what is at hand, or at hoof in my case.

She is walking around me, with light and eager steps; leaving squeaks in her trail, as she continues towards me.

“Clip, clop! Clip, clop!” I hear, with each and every step she is taking.

“Will she face me, or will she take me from behind? Will she eat me, or will she impale me?” I ponder, while I wait for her to make up her mind.

“I need to make sure; if you are ready, yet, Rarity!” she points out; after a few minutes of teasing and contemplation, on her part.

“Of course!” I ponder with a sigh, only to make it sound like a whinny.

“Of course, now I know how to make these delightful whinnies too!” I realize.

She is placing her hands firmly onto my rump, slowly rubbing the plump flesh under her fingers with the pads of each of her fingers; preparing herself, for what she had in mind for me.

Starlight is taking her good time, caressing my rump, before she is actually getting to the test. I feel her muzzle hitting between the orbs of my rump, before she is extending her tongue and starts to lick the slippery rim of my rear entrance. As a Pony, this would be how she would go about it.

My first reaction is a giggle, coming out as a neigh; then I try to pull back my hind hooves, but to no avail. My hooves are stuck to the pad I had previously pressed them into; the suction apparently stronger than I had anticipated. The only reaction, is my hooves stretching slightly.

She finds me quite wet, and delicious; as she is examining me with the tip of her tongue. I realize; that she chose to go forwards, with the deeper inquiry and extends her tongue further and further. With that, I feel her tongue slipping into me. In the process, we learn about how I instinctively contract around her as she is pushing forwards.

If only it had been limited to retract my rear orifice, my lips contract and tighten up, as a wide grin is spreading out over my muzzle. I close my eyes, as she is starting to eat me up, from the inside and out.

Slowly, inch by inch; her tongue is extended and slides into me from behind. As the tip of her tongue is wriggling and squirming on its way in, I am continuously contracting harder and firmer around her.

“Is that what the gel is doing to her?” Starlight is pondering, while realizing what is happening.

I feel her, her tongue slipping and sliding deeper and deeper into me, as she is exploring me from the inside. She is trying to stretch as far in as she can, but eventually she is reaching her limit; then slowly pulls out and retracts her tongue until she is entirely free.

She is pushing away, pulling away from me momentarily, before she is moving to the right and refocus on my flank. I see a glow on the tip of her horn, until I close my eyes; then she is starting to lick the mark, until the flank is entirely white as if she had indeed erased the three diamonds. She moves over to my right side and repeats the process.

As she is done, she is pulling back and raises to her hooves behind me, taking a step back; before she is walking around me and steps up to face me.

She places the palms of her hands on my cheeks, fingers spread wide; before she is kissing me and parts her lips, just enough for her tongue to slip out and escape her mouth. Her tongue slipping into my mouth, making me feel just how slippery the gel in my mouth is. I start to feel wet, as my mouth contracts around her tongue; continuously and progressively as she is extending her tongue deeper and deeper into my mouth. Finally, I feel the tip of her tongue sliding down my throat and inching further down.

Once she finally had managed to reach as far down as she could, she had slowed down and stopped; before she is retracting her tongue and pulls back. Only after the tongue is slipping out between my lips, is she breaking the kiss and pulls back entirely.

I open my eyes and she is looking at me; making me feel as if she had been looking right into her.

For a moment, I half by half expect her to place her hands on my rump, but now. Her hands are passing over my rump for a different target. Should I complain? Or, should I be thankful? She had been great at caressing my rump, the first time around.

A moment later, her hands find themselves squarely on my waist. She is clearly pressing her hands down and hold onto my back in a firm and inescapable grip; permitting the sensitive touch pads do all the fun. As I feel the tips of her fingers rubbing my back, the tips of her nails tease me.

After the kiss, my mouth is still contracted and wet; not that I had not already been wet, but now I am acutely aware of it.

She is taking a step forwards towards me, head held high. I feel her excitement and erection, even if I can’t quite see it, unless I turn my head just a little bit to the side. I choose to look forwards and slowly close my eyes in anticipation of what is about to come. She does not let me down or disappoint me by letting me wait any longer than I have to. She is just making it slow, just as with her strip tease. It is as if she had been born for the job and this very moment.

She is aiming carefully, moving slow; in order to avoid another pointless tease. When she finally does reach the target, I feel the tip of her head, as stiff as solid rubber. While this may be a part of her tights, but it feels real to me; knowing she will experience the touch just as acutely as I will.

For a moment, she is hesitant. I feel her pushing slightly, just slightly harder each time. I am already tight, contracting firmly; yet incapable of preventing her from entering.

While she is erect, I am stretching, just a little bit more with each time she is pushing forwards harder. She is pushing forwards, enthusiastically ogling me excitedly as she is pushing. On and on, over and over; but this doesn’t take long, she is merely teasing me and setting me up. There is the small detail of the gel Pinkie Pie applied to her penis.

There is a wet, splashing noise, as she is finally sucked in, into me and I feel her slip in an inch before she manages to slow down and stop. Just that once the head is in, she can’t just pull back; had she tried or wanted to.

I feel her slide in inch by inch. Once inside, I am contracting around her; doubly so, with the gel in my and the gel covering her.

“Oooh!” she exclaimed in excitement, as she slipped in.

“Ohh, ohh!” she coos, as she is slipping further into me.

She finds herself slipping in and then bounce back, but only to be sucked right back in, into me once more. In, and out; in, and out.

“Ooh, ooh, ooh! Ooh, ooh, ooh!” she is cooing, as she is continuing in delight.

I know she is clearly feeling the sensation of sliding in and out, just as I feel her sliding in me, up and down, up and down.

“Oooh!” I ponder, as I feel the head hit bottom.

“Oooh, oooh!” I ponder; as the first orgasm hits home and rocks me, with enthusiastic glee.

In her excitement, she is starting to claw me, I realize; yet I don’t even bother to open my eyes at this point, just feeling the next orgasm hit me all over again, shaking me deeper and firmer each time.

While there is a next orgasm, there is no climax in sight. I just can’t come off of it. She is eagerly holding on for dear life, enjoying the stimulation I offer, tight as I am, still growing tighter over time.

In the end, I feel her throbbing in me, not needing to guess what is about to happen.

“Oooooo!” she exclaims, as the orgasm hits home and she is finally permitted to come.

As tight as I am, I am still incapable of holding her up any longer. Even after the orgasm, I realize that she is just as stiff as ever. She is holding on, continuing; just for the fun and teases me for as long as she dares.

She slowly puts an effort into slowing to a halt, slowing little by little. In the end, she manage to stop just inside. I feel her slowly trying to pull herself free.

She is still captured within, unable to pull free just yet. With a tightening grip around my waist; she is pulling harder and harder, putting more and more effort into the attempts to pull free.

So long as she is staying stiff, I am contracting tightly around her; holding her in and pulling her back.

I hear a sucking noise, as she is finally pulling free. Not that I had wanted her to stop. She had not really wanted to stop; but the orgasm had hit home and she knows she needed to stop, in order to save enough strength to pull out.

There is a tug on my waist, but she does manage to hold on. Good thing, she had not fallen back towards the wall behind me. I wish no pain to come to her; she had just given me the pleasure of the orgasm, or orgasms. The orgasms; that refuse to stop and let go of me.

“What is she going to do now?” I ponder.

She could go out and just leave me as I am; leaving me as she is still wearing the suit she put on for my benefit. She could, but will she?

First now, I hear the laboured breath of the Starlight. I had not heard, or been aware of it; until now, when she had pulled out.

“Would she give me the pleasure? Would she deem it unjust of her to push herself upon me, to do her the service?” I ponder.

In the end, she staggers back a few steps, righting herself up and stands quietly a few feet behind me. She walks around me and stops before me, turning to face me.

“While I wear these tights, I am erect and stiff!” she exclaims, almost as quiet as a whisper with fairly winded and breathy voice.

“Oh! I guess; that does explain quite a few things!” I realize.

I giggle at the notion, once I realize what she had just told me; she is erect and fully sensitive and sensitized, by wearing these tights. The same could probably be said, about the rest of her beautifully crafted ensemble. While I may not know for certain, but I feel the situation before me.

“Unless you ask me, for you to lick me off; I think I will save you the grace by doing it for you!” she explains.

Just that I am incapable of voicing my opinion, or anything else right now. I am certain that she knows of it, but explain the situation as if I could speak. I could nod or shake my head, of course. I let her statement slide without remark, or any reaction. Merely grinning and smiling at her. Is it the orgasm that is maintaining my content state?

While I can see that this is an effort, on her part; she manages to bend over, licking herself of. A muzzle, added to the length of the penis seems to do the trick; permitting her to reach just long enough for this to work. I giggle, inwardly but give no outwardly sign on my reaction. I merely watch her perform.

I lick my lips, as she is finishing licking herself of; and she follows my example, licking her lips. That had been an interesting demonstration, certainly.

“I will leave you to enjoy the afterglow!” she adds, still fairly quietly.

The pair of doors slide up before her, just as she is slipping into the wardrobe where she had picked up the ensemble. I see her disappear and the doors slide shut quietly. There is but the characteristic click, to signify that the doors closed behind her.

I do not see her behind the closed doors, so I make due with picturing the event before my inner vision instead.

She pulls the left glove off of herself and put it back in place, before she is repeating the process with the right glove. Now she is pulling the mask off of her face, leaving her almost nude.

Once she had slipped the suit off of herself; she is pulling the tights down and finish the process. Before the doors are sliding up, she is slipping into a pair of black tights. Mate and with metallic bloody red hooves of the equine variety. She is slipping on a mask, almost identical to the one Sweetie Belle wore, when she was riding me as a rocking horse. The only real difference is, she is starlight Glimmer, and not Sweetie Belle.

While the room had been quiet, now she is approaching the doors that slide up before her. She is stepping out, facing me once more. Quietly and wordlessly. Waiting. Waiting, for what?

She stands quietly before me, merely looking at me.

“Ooh, ooh! Ooh, ooh!” she whispers, as I open my eyes and she is looking deep into my blue eyes.

I look into her eyes, in kind; permitting time to pass as I am enjoying the moment.

“I think it is time, you need to rest!” she points out, before she is walking around me.

As she is standing behind me, she is producing a plug, similar to the one I wore as a rocking horse. I feel the plug slip into me and I contract around it. A moment later, I climax and feel the final afterglow of the last orgasm.

“There, I think I can leave you, for a moment!” she is pointing out.

The doors behind me is slipping up and she is walking out of the room. The doors close behind her with a click and I am alone. The adventure is at an end. What am I to do now? I end up standing still like a horse and rest.

In Twilight: 7

I approach the door, the doors slide up with the characteristic click. I enter, with Twilight in tow. The room is dark, obviously dimmed down.

The doors slide shut behind us. The pin-prick stars overhead still shine down onto the floor in the room.

After a moment, I notice someone, or somepony standing in the middle of the room. I ignore her, for now. We turn to the second pair of doors. The doors on the side is opening before me and closing behind my companion.

Of course, this is a wardrobe; where I can find the ensemble, I had been looking for. Incidentally, I was hoping for two identical ensembles for the two of us. Is that too much to ask?

“Tights, black, mate, effeminate, red equine hooves!” I read; “There, I found them!” I exclaim.

“Perfect, exactly where they should be!” she responds, revealing measure excitement over the find.

As I pick my pair of tights, my companion picks out a matching pair of tights for herself as well. I hold up my tights before me as she does the same; moving in tandem as one. While we technically are separate individuals, we are the same character known as Twilight Sparkle, the unicorn. Knowing she is mirroring my every move; I lower the tights and lift up my right foot, before sliding the foot down and into the right side and slowly slide my foot down. I feel the smooth, sleek and slippery material contract around the skin of my foot as it slide all the way down. Once the foot had reached the end, I put the hoof down onto the floor, finding perfect footing.

I see her lifting up her left foot, standing steadily on her right hoof beside me; sliding the foot down into the pair of tights. A moment later, we stand side by side; wearing the black tights I had chosen for us.

“Ooh!” she exclaims; in excitement and delight over her, my, our shared visage.

I giggle, sharing her sentiment perfectly.

“Is there a skin-tone mask?” she inquires.

“I just found this purple unicorn face mask!” I point out, holding up one for show.

“Excellent, that is exactly what I was thinking of!” she responds.

As I slip my mask on, she is mirroring my actions; just as she did, when I slipped into the tights I am currently wearing.

“I don’t even feel the mask, and you do look just right, Twilight!” she responds, as she is turning to look at me, once she had managed to don her mask flawlessly.

Of course, this is a Twilight Sparkle face mask. What had I been expecting? Although, I had not expected the fit quite this accurate; when I thought of it, before I had tried it on. It is, as if the mask had been made out of a mould from my very own face, mere minutes to an hour ago.

I lift up my right hand, touching her face with my bare fingers; in order to assure myself of what I am feeling, or what I am not feeling. The skin is feeling exactly as if it had indeed been Twilight Sparkle herself, and the mask is fitting her seamlessly.

“Since these masks are identical, what I feel is identical to what she is feeling as well. It is almost, as if Rarity herself had made these?” I ponder, permitting my face to reveal exactly what I am thinking.

I am wearing my emotions on my sleeve, as the expression goes. That would go well, with Twilight Sparkle; as far as I know, she is not a coy pony in the first place, she does not hide her feelings. Why should I bather, then?

“Would you like a pair of gloves? Elbow or full-length gloves? Skin-tone feels like the choice, if we wear them!” she points out, as she is looking at me.

“You think they actually do have a pair of full-length gloves in our colour?” I respond, giggling at the idea.

“Yes, why not? Look, they even have a top!” she responds, pointing at the aforementioned garment.

“Oh, there they are!” I point out, as I pull the desired gloves for me and hand over the second pair.

I slip my right hand in and slide it slowly into the glove as far as it goes. Flexing my fingers to make sure the glove is sitting just right; before I give the sleeve a few tentative tugs, in order to ascertain the fit one final time.

Without turning my head, I know my companion is mirroring my motions. I find it curious and intriguing, how she manages the feat. Even if one could claim, it is I who is mirroring her motions too.

We repeat the process, enjoying the sensations of the tight, highly elastic rubber flowing over the skin of our fingers, hands and arms, all the way up to the armpit. While the elbow-length glove may be easier to put on, the full-length is more exciting to put on and wear.

“Wonder if the anal plug is fun, to slip in? Is it easy, and how does it feel; when it is inside?” she ponders.

“If you are intent on using that, you do need to lubricate it for anal usage, before you attempt it!” I point out.

While she picks up the plug, I pick up what I imagine is the lubrication intended for this specific toy, tossing a second tube of lubrication over to her. I uncap the tube, as I accept the plug she offers me and polish it up with the clear gel from my tube. The gel is as wet and slippery as I had imagined; just as the plug seems to be just the right shape to fit the bill.

“Here goes!” I whisper; as I bend forwards, slip my hand in between my legs and inserts the skin-tone plug with unexpected ease, as the plug eagerly slide in as if by its own volition.

That feels strange, but I don’t feel the plug anymore!” she points out, just as she had finished inserting her plug.

“Me neither!” I respond, nodding in agreement.

“This is not Rarity’s design, she would not touch an item like this!” she giggles.

“No, I guess not. She is crafting beautiful, delicate suits for public use, not bed-time toys!” I respond, knowingly.

“While we are at it, how about a pair of tubes, just to complete the set?” I inquire, not entirely sure.

“Yes, why not!” she responds; accepting the offered items, or pair of toy tubes.

I slide in the vaginal tube, with still unexpected ease; eagerly continuing with the muzzle tube. When I finally turn to face my companion, she had slipped in her tubes as well.

She had found the vaginal lubrication, eagerly applying it with her right hand, while extending a tube fore me. I accept the tube and mirror her suggested cause of action. The more of the gel I am applying, the wetter and more excited I feel.

I only stop, when the tube is empty, and my orchid is fully saturated. I discard the used and empty container in the trash bin, where it had been intended to go once used.

“What is that?” she inquires, pointing at a pair of boxes on the top shelf in the corner of the room.

“Let me see, I need a closer look!” I respond, nodding at her.

As I focus, the tip of my horn lights up with warm; deep, purple light of my magic. The light intensifies and grows into a larger and larger orb; until is slowly flows down the entire length of my horn.

Once I had focused enough magic, I reach forth and pick up the two items she had pointed at and hold them before me,; examining the content.

Inside the plastic containers, I find a pair of toys; made out of a plug on one end, and a yellow on the other. The plug appears to be a matching purple, quite opaque, while the other end is semi transparent in a matching hue.

“Since you asked, this is yours!” I point out; handing her the one with a mouth plug, taking the one with the vaginal plug, for myself.

“Oh!” she exclaims, accepting the given toy, eagerly and grins.

I watch her, as the grin spreads out over her entire face. I soon sport a grin of my own, in response to her, and her reaction to what she had just managed to find.

“This is promising; I am sure, this will be plenty of fun!” I ponder.

“Of course, now you will have to kiss the unicorn!” I point out, with just a slight hint of a smile of amusement.

“Oh, the unicorn? You mean, Rarity?” she responds.

“Yes, the unicorn; Rarity, who else?” I promptly respond.

“You think, she will accept that? Will she enjoy a kiss, from me?” she responds.

“Why not? Of course, she will!” I point out.

“Since we have everything we came for, it is time to slip out of the room!” I point out.

“Yes, there is nothing more to look for; we already have the tights, the mask, the gloves and the tops. We even got something, just a little bit extra, to play with!” she responds; counting the spoils of the excursion, into the room that proved to be quite the rich store room.

“Exactly!” I point out.

With the plastic container levitating in the grip of my magic; I turn around and face the door. I hear my companion a step behind me, as I approach the door a moment later. Just as before, the double doors slide up in anticipation. I step out, with her just a step behind me; knowing the doors are sliding shut behind her back.

While the only sign of the doors closing, is the characteristic click; I know it without doubt, without turning back or even turning my head in the slightest.

“Hi, Rarity!” I exclaim, as I see Rarity, exactly where we had left her a few minutes earlier.

Rarity smiles and winks, as response; while remaining quiet, not saying as much as a single word. Of course, she is currently mute, even if I am not currently aware of the fact; how or even why. Maybe, that isn’t important, after all. I leave the detail to the wayside.

“See, Rarity is so lovable; you just have to do it!” I remind my companion.

“Yes, I guess you are right!” she responds; as she is walking up to Rarity.

Rarity just blinks at us, giving me an extra wink for good measure.

My companion takes the final step, pressing her muzzle onto Rarity’s in a warm kiss, just as I had suggested before we entered the room. Then she places her hands on her cheeks and gives her a second kiss, enjoying the moment, royally. Rarity just winks and grin; while returning the kiss. Even if she can’t place her fore-hooves on my companion’s cheeks, as it turns out.

“Yummy, I do enjoy this!” she ponders, as she finally do pull back and breaks of the kiss.

“You did enjoy that, just as much as I thought!” I tease, giggling.

“Yes, I guess you could say that!” she is responding, winking conspiratorially at me.

“Since you are all warmed up, and excited; maybe it is time, we start our own little play?” I suggest.

“Okay, I guess it is high time!” she responds.

“For the sake of the argument, how about if you lean back at the doors opposite Rarity?” I add.

“How do I do that, if the doors open, when I approach?” she inquire; ”Is that even possible?” she ponder.

“First off, you need to face away from the door!” I point out.

“Okay, I can do that!” she concedes.

“Secondly, you would probably need to stand closer to the door; than it will recognize your physical presence!” I add.

“Oh, yeah; I guess, that would make sense!” she responds; “Assuming it is only sensing what is at least two feet from the door, in the first place!” she is pondering.

“Either the right, or the left; should work!” I suggest.

“Maybe, if I approach the door to the right, first?” she suggests, enthusiastically.

I watch her approaching the door, then turn towards the intended door; just as the doors before her is sliding up. She follows the wall, closely, then turns to follow the wall towards the door towards which she had been instructed to lean up against.

The first pair of doors remain open, hesitantly for several minutes. She manages to reach her destination well within the time and press her back up against the wall and continue until she is between the still closed doors.

Thankfully, the open doors finally slam shut, after several more minutes of indecision. Without a clear sign to close, the doors choose the safe option and stay open for as long as they are permitted to remain open.

While the doors had remained open, I calculated the distance; estimating where the safe zone should be. I walk towards the door, then step in under the radar; as it were, and leave the doors closed.

I lift up my right hand before me, turning up the palm to examine it critically. Once I had seen, what I had hoped to see; I lower my hand and grab her by the ankles.

“Time to play!” I intone; as I slide her hands aside and a foot up, before I press her hands firmly onto the smooth surface of the doors behind her.

“This should be enough, and safe enough!” I point out.

“You think?” she ponder, but does not utter a single word of doubt.

“Could you lift your right hand off of the wall, please?” I incite, as I let go of her ankles; “The palm of my hand refuses to let go!” she responds.