Spike's Harem

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I own nothing, but myself; or, that is what I imagine as I move in.

“Curious looking cushion!” I point out, as I examine, what is to be my bed; for as long as I will live in this small room.

I poke the cushion with my right fore hoof. I feel the squishy rubber under my hoof, bot nothing happens. I do not find myself stuck, on a sticky mass of clear rubber; as I had initially imagined, could have been the case.

As a matter of fact, the cushion is smooth to the point of being slippery; feeling almost as if it had been lubricated, for sexual fantasies. Maybe that image had not been quite as far from the truth, as I wish had been the case.

“If it is not sticky, or traps me; maybe I can rest on it, at least for a few hours?” I ponder, as I mount the clear mass of rubber.

“I guess, you will just have to be my bed!” I inform the cushion before me.

Naturally, the clear rubber does not react. It makes no reaction of any kind, not even a squeak. I do not mind. At least, this would be a better resting place, than the cool purple crystal I had been sleeping on, the other night. If it is not the Royal bed, Twilight Sparkle is sleeping on; who am I to complain? At least, it will be softer on my hide, to rest upon this.

Only once I had mounted my new bed, do I notice the change made to this room. The walls are coated with an inch thick rubber membrane, similar to what the tubes were crafted out of. The same, crystal clear rubber the bed is made out of. Everything in my room, is coated with the same rubber. Or, so it would seem. Should I complain? If so, to whom?

The rubber had been cold to the touch, when I had entered the room; now I feel it is warming up, under my touch. The room itself is not growing warmer than it had been prior to my entrance, yet the rubber and every item in the room is adapting to my body heat.

As the cushion is warming up, I can clearly hear the distinctive squeaks from it as I move. Curious, but unavoidable. As the cushion is adjusting to the heat of my body, I feel the surface changing to make it more comfortable to lay upon as well. Moment by moment, the shape of my cushion is taking on the exact form of my belly.

“I guess I could lie rather comfortably, and safely on this cushion!” I ponder, as the realization is sinking in.

What magic is making me enjoy the cushion, making it feel good to lie on it? I do not even know magic is involved, even if it may be obvious that it is making the cushion into what it is.

If I am not looking directly at the door to my room, but I am not looking away, either. The door is actually facing my right flank; quite convenient, I guess. For everything I know, I am alone down here; there is nothing and no pony to worry about. Exactly, no pony. My only worry, is where the food came from, and the price asked for the first meal.

“Why were I asked; to insert these tubes, in the first place?” I ponder.

While I do no longer feel the invasive, clear rubber inside; it was quite the eye-opener, when it slipped into me and coated me with its clear membrane.

Could I extract these tubes now? I have not been instructed anything, further; since the instructions, inserting these tubes a few days prior. I have not considered it, and feel no urge to attempt the extraction.

So long as I have nothing better to do, but I still have been fed each day. On second thought, I do feel a bit wet and this is slowly mounting towards something I have not dared to consider or contemplate.

I dismount the cushion, when the food is presented, in order to enjoy the meal. I do enjoy a short stroll in the hall outside; just to exercise as much as I care for. I return to the cushion, once more; after I had had my little exercise. Of course; I have no idea, as to how long I have been down here. All I have to go by, is the three meals before I go to sleep.

“I wake up, am served a meal and dismount the cushion to enjoy my breakfast. I exercise and mount the cushion, before I am served a new meal. I dismount the cushion and enjoy my lunch. I may take a stroll before I mount the cushion, or not. I am served a third meal and dismount the cushion to enjoy my dinner. After dinner; I have time for a stroll, before I mount the cushion and falls asleep. I do sleep quite comfortably, on my cushion!” I ponder, when I summarize the day I have just had.

With other words, nothing happens. Exactly nothing. While I am growing wet, I am sadly also growing bored and frustrated about my situation.