The Fall

Chapters

Departure: 01
Entry: 02
The Ponequine Carousel: 3
A Quick Stop, at the Sugar-cube Corner: 4
A Shared Dream: 5
To Rarity, and Back: 6
Consequences: Accepted: 7
I Dream of Mum’s Carousel: 8

Departure: 01

<--- --- --->

The room is rather small, but that is fine by me. I'm not going to stick around. I'm standing on a high stool, the light is already out, as I kick the stool out from under me. There is a crack, and it is all over, quiet.

There is a sound of a familiar voice, echoing. It is my daughter.

“Where did you go? Why did you leave us?” she demands, quite insistently.

The echo continues, for what seems to be a minute or it could be two.

When the echo starts to die, another voice takes its place. My son's voice.

“Of course, they did not understand? Or, they did not know what happened!” I ponder.

Unless, of course; I am either imagining, or hearing things. Then again, I am already dead. I should be, after all.

The echoing voices persist, only to be replaced by one voice after the other.

My wife, my brother, my sister. My father, and finally my mother.

Only my parents are dead. It is why I am here, in the first place.

“Where are you? We miss you!” my children continue.

The echoes slowly die down. Then silence inserts itself in a blinding flash.

It is still dark, but now the silence is deafening.

I expect a disconcerting discontinuity. A break between a reality I thought I knew and loved. The world I so abruptly escaped. A sharp border and a dull nothing.

I am, but still not. Where am I? Or, am I at all? Is it even me? Who, or what am I?

No voice, and no sound. A deafening sound of nothing, quiet.

There is dark; and through it comes a light, brighter than light.

There is light; and through it comes a darkness, darker than black.

In the light, there are angels. In the dark, there are daemons.

“Where are you coming from, where are you going?”

“What are you fleeing, what are you seeking?”

My mind is melting, I turn into a hum. What I was, is evaporating as I am changing.

Who am I? What am I? I do not know, but I am about to know. There is no escape.

There is an instant snap, as from a neck breaking. Everything is dark. So very dark, and cold.

<--- --- --->

Entry: 02

<--- --- --->

As I wake up, I am alone on the train to Celestia knows where.

“Yes, Celestia knows where!” I ponder.

Why should she not know, she always knows everything. Every pony knows that. Don't we?

I am a white Unicorn filly, alone on the train. I have nothing. Shouldn't I at least have a name? Every pony does have a name.

Apparently, I do have a destination. Thank Celestia for that fortune. While I don't know where I am, or where I am going; the Conductor does. A moment before the train starts to slow down, she enters and makes the announcement; “This is your stop, your mother is awaiting you!”

“Thank you!” I respond.

Since I have nothing, I gather myself and get up from the bed where I had just woken up.

I do not want to miss my stop, so I hurry up; I manage to reach the door, just before the train stops.

The door swings open, and I spill out. In my haste, I had failed to notice that I am the only pony to get of.

There is a station, and the train does stop long enough for me to safely trot of the train and down to the pavement below.

I guess I had arrived as empty-hoofed, as I had left.

The station appears to be largely abandoned. A door swings open, and a white mare exits the building.

Tentatively, I approach her, In the hopes that she had been waiting for me. A smile starts to spread on her face, as she hasten her steps towards me.

“Pinkie Pie, is coming to town!”

Apparently, it is something similar to April fools' day. Just more like Christmas. A pink face adorns the bright, cheerful poster. That has to be the face of Pinkie Pie herself.

“Hi, and welcome home!” she exclaims jubilantly.

“Hi!” I respond.

“Call me Mum!” she exclaims.

That could be awkward.

“Yes, Mum. Of course!” I respond.

She smiles brightly at me.

I bravely flash my brightest grin back at her. If mum is happy, I am.

Maybe I don't know better, but I have no reason not to be happy. Besides, she is all I have right now.

“If you like, we could go to a Rarity Carousel?” she suggests.

“Rarity's Carousel?” I echo, excitedly.

Combining the word carousel, with the name Rarity had made me instantly excited. Not because I know what a carousel is, or who Rarity is. Who, and what are these anyway? I am a filly and I am new here.

I am nude, because I have nothing.

I had noticed, that some ponies are wearing clothes. I just did not react.

“The Rarity Carousel!” mum exclaims.

Of course. There it is, the carousel. As I look up, I merely gape in awe.

“Right this way, my dear!” she exclaims.

There is a petite chime calling, just as we enter the boutique. Such a delicate sound. I can see Ponequines dressed up, in the windows. There are also Ponequines delicate and pretty. The Ponequines are all wearing a halter with a delicate bit. Why?

“This is the Rarity Carousel!” the mare called Rarity exclaims, in ladylike style.

“How may I be of service?” a mare inquires, from further inside.

“Matching vests and skirts, for daughter and me?” Mum responds.

“We are both the same white, so matching clothes seems right!” I ponder.

“Right this way, so that I can take all the required measurements!” she offers.

This is why Mum brought me here, so I follow them in into the back.room. I can't for my life imagine why Mum would do anything that could possibly harm me, so I implicitly trust her blindly. Besides, why would the mare do anything bad.

The mare managing the boutique produces a measuring-tape, with which she starts to take Mum's measurements.

While the mare works, I am ogling and admiring a ponequine in the room. She is apparently wearing the halter, and a set of pony-boots too.

While I don't know what these are, or what they are for; I still desire them, both for the looks and how they make me feel inside.

“Is it so wrong, to feel hot and desired by wearing these?” I ponder.

“Is the red right for me, as a filly?” I inquire.

“Red will go quite well with your white coat of fur!” she responds.

“I do have a set of boots, in your size. If you like the deep tone of the metallic bloody red!” she adds, just as she finishes taking measurements.

“Yes, please!” I respond.

I look around, for a moment. Then I find what I had been looking for. A set of glossy rubber-boots, just as she had promised.

The Ponequine generously gives them up, for me without complaining. Incidentally, she also wears a matching halter.

As I step into the boots, I feel them tighten up around my hooves, with a squeaking noise. A perfect fit. I am thrilled. Before any pony had the time to protest, I take of her halter and put it on. Just like the boots, the halter tightens up around my muzzle. Too late, I realize what it is. This halter eagerly squeezes my mouth shut, and effectively mutes me.

While I could reach for my smooth, glossy and now tight rubber-halter; I am incapable of touching it, with either my hooves or my magic.

The halter had been adjusted for the Ponequine it had been adorning, not for a living and breathing filly like me.

“I should call you Squeak!” Mum muses.

“Your boots come with a selection of optional shoes, if you care for these!” Rarity offers.

Silver, chrome, copper, gold and cobalt? I can't make up my mind, I want all of them. Maybe, if I could have asked her?

Apparently, I had already chosen the colour of my clothes. In effect, I had chosen the colour for my mother as well. Deep red, with black trim-accents.

“Strange, how comfortable the halter feels!” I realize; “My halter!” I correct myself, in amusement.

“I hope I can keep it!” I ponder; “Would be sad, if I can't have it now!” I add.

“Since my little Squeak likes them; I take these boots with the selection of shoes, and the halter and bit!” Mum announces.

“Of course!” Rarity agrees.

“As a matter of fact; I would like a matching set for me too, if possible!” Mum adds.

“Certainly!” the mare continues.

“Thank you, Rare!” Mum exclaims.

“Would you prefer the ponequine-setting for the halter, or an alternative setting?” she inquires, suggesting options available.

“Could I have both settings; or is there any other setting you think I may enjoy?” Mum responds.

“In your case, remote or Parental control may be of interest! I will just have to set it up, for you! I will also have to teach you how to manage the settings yourself!” she explains.

I will just have to put yours on, before I set you up properly!” she continues.

“Our personal Rarity, even if her name is not Rarity and she is not the genuine Rarity!” I ponder.

Her horn starts to glow, in a bright, light blue, as mum picks up her halter and dons it with her unicorn grace.

“Now you have to face one-another!” she instructs.

“Eye-contact is critical!” she adds.

Mum is facing me, gazing deeply into my eyes. As she faces me, I face her; as she is gazing into my eyes, I gaze into hers. I can not avert my gaze or look away, I do not want to.

While I can still not speak or even part my lips in the least, my mum will be able to hear me while she keeps her halter on. At least, if it is in Parental Control mode.

She will be able to put on or remove my halter at will, as she pleases. Why not, she is after all my mother.

Rarity removes her halter and resets it for each desired setting in turn. Once she has finished adjusting my halter, she repeats the process with my mother's halter. From there, she explains how to change the settings of the individual halters, to the desired settings.

My halter reverts to original Ponequine settings, while my Mum can hear me.

“What is the range one can hear the other? Mum asks, for me.

“I do not know, this has never been properly established. If you do learn, please let me be the first to know!” she responds.

“While you can breathe and communicate, the halter must come of for you to eat!” she points out, most sternly.

“Don't you forget that, Squeak!” I hear my mum, even if her lips are tight.

“No, Mum; I will not!” I respond.

“Curious, am I supposed to hear you too?” I add.

“I don't know!” I hear; “But it certainly could prove convenient!” she adds.

I close my eyes, turn my head and see her beside me to the right.

“Could I..?” I inquire.

“On the second floor, the balcony up front!” Rarity suggests, pointing out the way to the name-sake carousel.

<--- --- --->

The Ponequine Carousel: 3

<--- --- --->

”Thank you, Rarity!” I simply nod, before I go where she had told me to go for the carousel.

Negotiating the flight of stairs up to the second floor proved easier than I had initially imagined. I could not say that these adorable boots were a hindrance, even with shoes on.

“Clip, clop! Clip, Clop!” I hear my shoes, with each and every step.

There is clearly no escaping the noises, my shoes make; as I continue, towards the indicated location. It is not just in my head, I am hearing the shoes hitting the floor.

Of course I had chosen these shoes, and I had accepted the help putting them on. I can as well accept, what this means and what it makes me. I don't need to horse around, but I am a filly nonetheless. Now I am still going to enjoy myself.

In an instant, there is a flash of images; memories, of who and what I had once been. Riding the carousel should be a blast. Just that I am a Pony now, riding the carousel-horse. Or, is that a Pony, too; just like me, which is strange. I still do want the offered ride, I can't just turn back now.

Should I explain, what I had experienced? How does one even explain; what one can barely remember, or understand? I am a Pony, a little filly. It is all I am, and it is all I will ever be; though I expect to grow up to a mature Pony and mare one beautiful day, in the village of Ponyville.

While I had been something other than a Horse, or Pony; I have little to no recollection of this time, knowing I could never go back to what I had been. I had effectively given up on that life, once and for all. I had found it, too hard for me to bear; swapping the life for the one I have now. Maybe this is a better life, than I could ever have had back then and there; because it certainly does feel better right now. I am free to enjoy this life, with a mare who cares about me and will be protecting me if need be. At least I think so, even if I could never know; before this is put to the test.

“Clip, clop; clip, clop!” I hear, as I am finally approaching the carousel.

The noises are knocking me out of the thought-pattern, right back to where I am. Thankfully. The image of a past memory, shattered, into dust; possibly never to return, ever again. As sweet as the original memory may have been; it is liable to be a hindrance in my life and recovery.

“Why do these carousel horses look like Ponequines, just like the once in her boutique?” I ponder; “These does look nothing like a Carousel Hours, or a Pony for that matter!” I continue.

Now I continue, slowly trotting up towards the first of the Carousel-Horses of the carousel before me. Of course, I have to step out in order to have my promised ride; but why should this stop me now, after I had been promised I could have the ride?

At first, I had expected the same old and hard plastic feel to the surface; the why they always felt under your hands, only I have no hands to touch the surface of this carousel-horse with,
The surface feels nothing like I had been expecting, and the fact that I have hooves in place of hands is not the cause of the dissonance. Not even the boots and shoes I had on, could be accounting for this. Or, could it?

While my memory is vague, at best; just as my specific recollection is less than reliable, but this is not the hard surface of the carousel-horse I still cling to at this point. The memory is that, of a happier time; my childhood, before my path started to spiral out of my hands. Or is it hooves now? No, it was certainly hands; back then, I am sure of it.

While I am a pony, now; which is making this feeling a bit awkward at first, but I think I can mount this carousel-horse the same way as I once had. Now a Ponequine, but I manage to mount her.

“But of course, she is a mare!” I ponder; “Anything else seems to be unthinkable!” I consider, as I am getting up onto her back.

The carousel is still silent, and unmoving. It is so much easier, to mount my carousel horse; when it is not in motion, and safer. Considering that I am on the second floor.

There is one distinct difference, from the old carousel horse; this Ponequine feels warm, and her skin is more elastic, than I could recall. Should I freak out, or thank Celestia for this one change? I have no idea, so I stick with doing neither.

In the end, I manage to place my rump onto the saddle; secured onto the back, of this Ponequine. That was easy, wasn't it? Now I am slipping my hind hooves into the stir-ups, right and left; before I am grabbing hold, onto the Ponequine herself. There is a strange, and unforeseen stirring in the mare I am holding on to.

“Neigh!” she exclaims.

I am momentarily taken aback, by the unexpected response; but this is after all a land of magic, very real. I gather my wits, and hold onto the Ponequine now under me.

All the carousel-horses are white, with a deep purple mane and tail; this is after all Rarity's home, so what had I been expecting. Though the saddles are different colours, following the rainbow; all very fancy, stylish. On second thought, I notice they had all been given make-up, based on the premise of being Rarity. Well, why not?

There is a chime, and the music is starting up; just as if this had been one of these old carousels, I barely remember anymore. The volume is picking up to the working standards, and the horse starts moving forwards. After a moment, the horse is trotting, then she gets into a steady gallop, I cling to her back and neck.

“Okay, this is not the carousel I recall!” I realize; “But I guess, it is more exciting, this way!” I conclude.

While I feel her body going up and down, in the traditional manner of a regular carousel horse; she is also moving like a real horse, or pony, as she is galloping round the home of Rarity's.

From my position, on top of the horse; I can clearly see most of the village of Ponyville. It is now my home. After a while, as she had reached a fast-paced gallop, it is too exciting; I lose interest in the view, in place of holding onto the horse upon which I am sitting.

While my position is good enough for a good view of most of the village, I am not high up enough for an unobstructed view; however, it is more than high enough, for it to be a pretty mean fall, if I were to fall off of this horse and fall to the ground. I guess that reflex had not quite let go of me, even if I had forgotten most else of who I had been before. Should I have been thankful, for this reflex; or should I resent it, for being flat wrong, in my new position?

So much is different here, in the village of Ponyville in Equestria, than everything I had ever known, in my former life as a poor human. Most of what I knew, is now wrong. Let's just leave it at that; and move on, trying to grasp the life as a Pony, and enjoy this ride.

In the end, all things come to an end; and so does this carousel ride, too. At least, I had had fun; while it lasted. The ride slows down, the horse slow down to a trot; before it all stop, just where I had started the ride. I climb off of my horse and step back into the house. I continue further in, and close the door behind me.

Had this all been a dream? I can't shake the event out of my head; the ride had felt so real; even if it had been strange and close to impossible. Just the fact that a mare has a functional carousel on her house? People just do not have such things. A carousel is on a theme-park, that is where it belongs. Isn't it?

Either way, I had enjoyed the ride and the gift for all it had been worth. I will treasure this memory, for as long as I can remember it. Even if it turns out to be a lucid fever-dream as I wake up and shiver in the morning?

As I get down the flight of stairs, my mother is waiting for me. She is not impatient. Why should she be, she is after all my mother.

On second thought, she does look positively excited. She had concluded the deal; the clothes she had bought for the two of us, hers and mine. Maybe she had enjoyed a glimpse of my joy and excitement; right there with me, and thus had the reason to be excited? Or, she is merely excited for me. She is doing her job, as my mother; seeing to my well-being, as a young foal, filly? I am not holding either against her. It is not my place. I am merely happy; for a mother who cares for me, and looks out for me.

“That was quite the ride, wasn't it?” she inquires, as I am getting close to her side once more.

“Yes, mum; it certainly way!” I respond; "Thank you, Rarity, for the ride; it was such an exciting thrill!” I add.

Of course, I had to thank Rarity; if I had thanked her, before the ride or not. This is not an offer, I could have been expecting; she had not been obligated to offer me the ride, even if I had seen the carousel before I had entered the shop.

“Such an adorable little filly, I sometimes wish my sister Sweetie Belle could have been a bit more like her!” Rarity ponders, with a sting of guilt; “You are quite welcome, my dear!” she responds.

Of course, being the element of generosity; this had been natural to her, it is just the kind of mare Rarity is. No point in fighting it, and not when it is making her fellow ponies smile.

“I think, I will have to be back soon; since we will need new clothes, every once in a while!” my mother exclaims.

“Of course, my dear!” Rarity exclaims, smiling.

“Welcome back!” Rarity points out, as we trot out of her boutique.

“Thank you, Rarity!” my mother responds, and I chorus her just a moment after.

The door slams shut, as we exit; but with a very lady-like little noise, not the monstrous boom one would commonly have been expecting.

<--- --- --->

A Quick Stop, at the Sugar-cube Corner

<--- --- --->

Author's Note

Pass: Squishy Shy
A Quick Stop, at the Sugar-cube Corner

A Quick Stop, at the Sugar-cube Corner: 4

<--- --- --->

Of course, I had to take the halter of, before I left the boutique. Maybe the Ponies would stare? At least, I could keep my boots and shoes on.

In Ponyville, the Ponies commonly wear exactly nothing; trotting around nude, as they move about in town. I am still feeling a bit strange, about this.

Though I do see a few; wearing that hat, a ribbon or something special to them. Possibly related to their work.

“Why is it, I am so self-conscious about my nudity?” I ponder, no answer, or response forthcoming; “When every Pony is nude, around me!” I add.

“Now; I will have to get used to the silence, and not wearing my halter in public, too!” I realize, taken aback by the realization.

I had never been expecting the attachment, to the strange garment; even if it is in fact merely a decorative accessory for the Ponequine, in the first place. Maybe it had been the enchantment, placed on the item?

“Maybe we could go to the Sugar-cube Corner? Something sweet should make you feel better!” my mother offers, generously.

“Yes, that sounds delightful!” I respond.

“I thought, you would say that; because it is such a nice cafe, and every Pony loves Pinkie Pie and her pastries!” she puts forth.

“I guess, I just have to taste them, myself!” I respond, suddenly finding it odd to pronounce the words.

“I guess you could still wear your halter, indoors; and particularly, when you go to bed!” Mum promises.

“I could?” I respond; “Thank you, Mum!” I add.

“You are quite welcome, my dear daughter!” she responds; “Besides; I think I am looking forwards, for us to share this little secret!” she then confides, conspiratorially.

“I am looking forwards, to sharing their pastries, with you!” I point out; “And now I am looking forwards, to sharing our little secret tonight!” I continue.

“You know, you could not taste her pastries, if you wear the halter; since you could not open your mouth, to chew!” Mum points out, with a silly grin on her muzzle.

“Oh, yeah; I guess, I did not think of that!” I mumble; regretting the undeniable fact she had just placed before me, feeling a blush coming onto my cheeks.

“No!” she responds; “Good thing; I thought if it, so we can save the embarrassment!” she offers.

“Yes, Mum!” I respond; “Thank you, for reminding me!” I then add.

“Good thing, Ponyville is not a large, sprawling city; then it would have taken forever, to get from one place to the other!” she points out, making light of the situation, while deflecting the issue for a later time.

“Yes, thank Celestia for that!” I respond.

“We could have been living in Canterlot, or Manehattan; but we don’t, because it is so much better here in Ponyville!” she responds.

“Yes, I guess we could; but why would we like, to live there?” I put forth.

“Some Ponies, like to live near Royalty; or, in the middle of things!” she points out; “But it is no place, to raise a Foal!” she then adds.

“Why did these Mares come over here to Ponyville, if they loved it so much over there?” I inquire.

“Maybe, because they recognize that Rarity is crafting the best suits?” she responds.

“That is, why we went over to hers; isn’t it?” I inquire.

“Yes, it is!” she responds; “Just as we go to the Sugar-cube Corner, for the best pastries a Mare could possibly buy!” she then adds.

“That Ginger-bread house, that is where we are going? I inquire, pointing at the building just before us.

“Sugar-cube Corner” reads the sign before the cafe.

“Yes, this is the cafe; I promised you, we should visit!” she responds.

“Yay” I exclaim, in obvious excitement.

Maybe I am a bit hungry, after the exciting ride on the carousel and all the time we spent at the Carousel with Rarity; but I am also excited over finally seeing that Pinkie Pie, I had been told should be at the Sugar-cube Corner.

While it may have been strange to me; to find myself as a Pony all of a sudden, and seeing everyone around being Ponies. Yet, now I have gotten over it; mainly because it is no longer new, and the fact that I have little else I do recall.

Mum is leading me, into the cafe; where Pinkie Pie is standing behind the counter, with a huge smile all over her face. The mare is a bright pink; and deeper pink main and tail, both curled up tightly.

“Welcome to the Sugar-cube Corner!” she exclaims, in her over the top exuberant voice.

“What could I offer you, today? We have all manners of sugary and sweet treats!” she offers.

“I am Pinkie Pie; but call me Pinkie, all my friends do!” she offers.

For a moment, I am looking at Pinkie Pie; then my attention is wondering off, towards the pastries and the muffins in particular.

“Muffins, muffins muffins; so many muffins, all different and delicious looking!” I ponder, as I make big eyes, and soon finds myself salivating.

“At least; I am not drooling, over these muffins!” I ponder; That would have been embarrassing!” I add.

Raspberries, Strawberries, Blueberries Wild Strawberries and Chocolate. I am pointing at these, one at the time.

“Would this be tasty?” I inquire; “Because I think I would fancy one of these!” I then put forth.

“Yes, they would..” she responds; “I guess, we would have one of each!” Mum responds.

“Raspberry, Strawberry, Blueberry, Wild Strawberry and Chocolate!” Mum points out, as she is pointing at the respective Muffin.

“You want to eat here, I am sure there is at least one Table free at the Moment..” she suggests; or would you want these to go?” she inquires.

“Since you have a Table available, I would prefer to eat here..” Mum responds.

“What would you like to drink, to these Muffins?” she inquires.

“Could I have Orange Juice, and Milk?” I inquire.

“Yes, Squeak; we can have these!” Mother confirms; “Two glasses of Orange Juice and Milk!” Mum tells Pinkie, as she is pointing out what she wanted to drink.

“Yay!” I exclaim, imagine I was still wearing the Halter.

“Such a lively little Filly, you have!” Pinkie ponders, snickering to herself.

Mum pays for the Muffins, Milk and Juice; before she is leading me to a table in the corner.

I eagerly follow her to the table, waiting for Pinkie to come to our table, serving us. A few minutes later; Pinkie arrives at our table, placing a large plate in the middle of the table, before she is placing a small plate before me and Mum. Finally; she is placing a glass of Milk and Juice before each of us.

I pick one of the Muffins; slowly nibbling on it thoughtfully, as I am enjoying the treat.

As I am enjoying the Muffin, I sip my Juice or Milk, to wash down the sweet Pastry.

Mum is clearly enjoying the treat beside me, right along with me. Well, why shouldn’t she? These are sweet and delicious Muffins, after all.

On the other Rubbery Hoof, it is always better to enjoy with someone you enjoy the company of.

“Yummy..” I declare, “we’ll simply have to come back, here; to have more of these!” I conclude.

She just nods; “It’s delicious!” she then agrees.

Since the Muffins are so tasty, we did not want to distract ourselves with talking; thus largely staying quiet, as we consumed the tasty treats, one after the other.

As we had finished, we raise to our hooves; pushing the chairs in under the table and walk out of the room. The plates had been stacked, beside the glasses. All in a neat pile, easy for Pinkie to retrieve. I like to give a good first impression, in order to be welcome back for more.

“Thanks for the treat!” I exclaim, on our way out.

“You are quite welcome, Squeak..” she responds; “and welcome back!” she exclaims, as we continue towards the exit.

<--- --- --->

A Shared Dream: 5

<--- --- --->

The day had been long, for me; I am tired, yet quite happy with the time I had had with Mum.

I guess I would have wanted to complain, about going to bed; but I had already had far too much fun, to ruin it with complaining now. I just could not make myself.

“Come over here..” Mum urges me, and I comply.

“Yes..” I respond, as I move over to the middle of the room.

“Slip into these boots!” she suggests, knowing I would want nothing but just that.

“Yes..” I respond; as I start slipping the boots on, one at the time.

I feel the now rather familiar sensation of each boot tightening up around my hooves.

“Could you put the shoes on?” She inquires.

“Yes..” I respond, as I step into the golden shoes she had selected for me to wear.

The gold goes particularly well with these red boots I am wearing. At least I think they do. I picture Mum had selected them, for me; because they look great together with these boots.

I stand still, already too tired to protest or even try to take a single step in any direction.

“Could she carry me to the bed, if I can’t move that far?” I ponder, not yet wearing the halter and bit.

She moves over to me, holding up the desired halter before me; I slowly open my mouth in anticipation, before she even need to say a single word.

I feel the bit slipping in between my lips, into my mouth; then I feel the bit slowly slipping all the way in, before the halter is starting to tighten up around my muzzle. The next moment, my mouth is firmly shut closed; I can’t part my lips in the least, even if I had the energy to try.

I close my eyes, or at least I think I do. The room slowly goes dark, I can’t see anything.

Had I just been tired and sleepy? Yet, I really can’t move. I can’t move a single muscle, where I am standing.

<--- --- --->

Had it been a mistake, or had she intended to put the halter in the Ponequine mode; either way, it is the mode the halter is in as the bit is slipping into my mouth.

Had I willed the halter into this strict and restricting setting? Either way; I had desired it, from the moment I had tried this halter on, the first time. If one claim it was a mistake, putting on a Ponequine halter; but I had still wanted to try it on, even if I had not known the consequences at the time.

Well, just as I had not known; realized the consequences, of hanging myself.

The halter had put a mark on me, changed me in the process; I had been changed, but was it for the better or worse? I have no idea. It is just too late to complain now.

If it had been my age, or the way I had come to be where I am; but the effect had unavoidably taken a firm hold of me, my very soul.

While tired, sleepy; the halter had taken full effect, holding me firmly in place. I do not mind, far too tired to even care or complain. I am simply not there, it isn’t possible.

On second thought, Mum was wearing her halter too. I feel the connection to her.

It is natural, she is my Mother.

<--- --- --->

As I open my eyes; I am on a lush green field of grass.

Just green grass, as far as the eye could see. It is a serene vista, I could not escape. Just as nothing bad could enter, in order to reach me. No harm could come to me, while I am here.

The sun is high, on the sky; playful clouds, energetically frollicking across the sky.

I am still wearing the halter and boot. Shouldn’t I?

Only now; it would appear, as if these are integral parts of my body. They could not be taken off of me. But, why should they be taken of? Why would I possibly want that?

Maybe this is a dream? But still. A dream does not follow the logic of the day. Why should it?

I am standing still. Am I?

I tentatively take a step forwards. Then another. And another.

I trot forwards, playfully enjoying myself.

Just that I am not alone. There is another filly, just like me. Her coat is white, just like mind. She is a Unicorn, just like me.

It feels good, even though my body is all rubber. Of course, the other filly does not seem to notice this. Maybe it is just natural to her. It is not new, to her.

Just like me; she is wearing her halter and boots. She is wearing the shoes and have the bit in her mouth; just like me.

She is wearing the prettiest saddle one could possibly imagine. It is crafted out of the same red rubber, my boots had been made out of. Well, but why not? It’s just a part of a matching set.

I had chosen this, because I like it. Love it.

With the halter on, I can’t open my mouth; but why would I want to, when I don’t need to.

“Squeak!” I hear the filly exclaiming, as I am following her over the endless field upon which we had found ourselves.

Just the two of us, two Twin sisters; a Matching Set, all but identical. If she is wearing a pretty Saddle, so do I. Well, why not? I love the Saddle she is wearing, and thus I am wearing a Saddle of my own, equally pretty.

This is Life, I am free; I do not need Mobs of People, or even Ponies. I have my Twin Sister, she is all I need. All I had ever needed. Even if she had been my Mother before we shared this dream.

First now, I notice the large Bow in her Mane, fastened just behind her Ears; I am wearing one, just like hers. We are Twins and Sisters; thus I have what she has, and she has what I have.

If I had chosen these Metallic Bloody Red Boots and Halter for myself, I had chosen them for her too. She chose the matching Skirt and Vest, for us to wear. The Ponnequines wore these Pretty Saddles and now we are wearing them.

I wear a Halter with a Bit, but it does not come with the Reins. Why should they? These Halters are not to control me, or rein me in. What an Absolutely Silly Notion. Where did that even come from, in the first place? It is simply Preposterous. Are you Insane?

“Who would ever put something on, just to be controlled by Another? Certainly not I.

My Mother and I are wearing these Halters, to be Pretty. Mother had bought the Halter from Rarity herself, at the Carousel Boutique; and Rarity would never touch anything so Uncouth, let alone Sell it to anyone, not to mention a Customer.

<--- --- --->

To Rarity, and Back

<--- --- --->

To Rarity, and Back: 6

<--- --- --->

The door chimes, as we step into Rarity’s Boutique.

It is quiet, for a moment, before we can hear the sounds of her hooves clopping on the floor.

“Welcome to my Boutique; where everything is Chique, Unique and Magnifique!” she exclaims, from the back of the room; before we can see her step into the light before us.

“Nice to see you back; in my Boutique, Squeak!” Rarity proclaims.

“We need matching Bows, matching the colour and style of our previous purchase!” Mum explains.

“I think I have these on stock, lying around..” Rarity responds; “bows would go just right with your Style, too!” Rarity agrees.

“Do you have Socks or Stockings, matching my current Suit?” I inquire.

“While somewhat unusual, for obvious reasons; but I do keep these in stock, for the few who desire these!” Rarity agrees.

“I guess; we just need to have these, too!” Mum concedes.

With that, Rarity sneaks off, locating the Socks and Stockings asked for.

“Are these, what you were looking for?” Rarity inquires; holding up two sets of Socks and Stockings in the same Metallic Bloody Red, as the rest of my clothes.

I notice how the socks are half length, while the Stockings are full length. I can’t help but snicker, as I am enjoying the garments she is holding up before us.

“Nice and glossy..” I ponder; “would it be acceptable to have these in a glossy black too?” I inquire, finding myself blushing slightly.

“For indoors, when we are alone at home..” Mum responds; “we could afford the joy, of adding these to the wardrobe!” Mum concedes.

The next moment, Rarity slinks off to fetch the desired garments; only to return with these Socks and Stockings, snickering quietly to herself.

“Would these socks, or Stockings agree with my Halter?” I inquire.

“That could be arranged!” Rarity supplies.

“Excellent!” Mum exclaims, before I even have the time to respond, even if she knows the excitement I am experiencing.

“I will have to perform the adjustments in the back..” Rarity explains; “is there anything else you are looking for, before I proceed?” she inquires.

Mum looks at me, as if she is urging me to suggest something more.

“I was dreaming of wearing a Saddle, completing this Ensemble!” I venture.

“Such a rare Treat!” Rarity supplies.

“I think we need one Saddle each!” Mum supplies, remembering the dream from last night.

“Should I have my Saddle Red, or Black?” I inquire.

“Yes..” Mum responds; “we should have these, too!” she concludes.

Rarity is leading us to the back of the store, with us in tow.

“I need you to wear these, while I am making the adjustments; for the garments to function as a set, tied to the Halter!” Rarity explains.

“Oh, but of course!” she responds.

I slip out of my Boots, while Mum slips out of hers. Rarity is preparing the Red Saddles; helping us putting them on, while we are dealing with the Boots.

“There; if you could slip into the Socks?” Rarity suggests.

“Of course..” I respond, picking the Red Socks, slipping into them one at the time.

Right and left, fore and hind. I find my socks slipping on, eagerly; almost, as if they had wanted me to wear them. Silly? But it is my impression, all the same.

Once Mum had slipped her red Socks on; Rarity perform the alterations, permitting the Saddle and the socks to link up into a Set with the Halter.

Rather than taking the Saddle off, we opt to change into the red Stockings; permitting Rarity to perform the service on these Red Stockings.

Once Rarity had applied the adjustments to the Red Stockings; she is helping us to take the Saddles off, while we swap the Red Stockings for the Black Socks.

Rarity performs the adjustments and we swap the Black socks for the Black Stockings.

Once the final adjustment had been performed; Mum pay for the entire Purchase.

I end up slipping out of my stockings, changing into my Boots while Mum is paying. She swaps her Black Stockings for her own Red Boots, before we are leaving the Boutique. All satisfied, with the deal made.

“Well, I could not exactly blame Rarity!” I ponder.

“Squeak, Squeak, Squeak..” is heard, as we are seen trotting home from Rarity’s Boutique.

Not that it makes a difference, to me; if we are being seen or not, but I still find the complimentary Squeaks of my Boots exciting. Maybe it shows on my face, fine by me. A filly should not hide her feelings.

Mum opens the door to our home, before we are stepping in; then she is closing the door, behind us.

I am carrying my Socks and Stockings to my room; only stopping to open the door and step in, into my room with my Prize.

“Since I can slip the Boots off myself, and slip the Socks and Stockings on myself..” I ponder; "I could as well start myself, before Mum is back to help me!” I conclude.

“I am Alone with Mum, so I’ll try the Black Stockings on..” I ponder; “The Red Socks could be warn most everywhere?” I consider; “While the Black Socks and Stockings are Strictly for Private occasions indoors!” I conclude.

I slowly slip out of my Boots, before I am slipping the Stockings on; right and left, fore and hind. Incidentally; I had finished slipping the Stockings on, just as Mum is entering my Room with my Saddles.

“Since you chose the Black Stockings; I guess it would be best, if I put your Black Saddle on?” she inquires.

Of course; her Halter is already in the Parental Control mode, before she had even entered my Room.

“Yes, Please!” I respond.

The next moment, I feel the weight of my brand new Black Saddle resting comfortably on my back; before she is securing the Saddle into place, then adjust my Halter for this Moment.

"Let’s have some fun, shall we!” she exclaims.

She had already stuffed away my Red Saddle and the Socks and Stockings I am not wearing.

I can see her, as she is standing before me; adoring me intently, as I am looking up at her.

Now I feel my Halter tightening up around my Muzzle. As she had finished adjusting my Halter, I am utterly incapable of opening my Mouth, but somehow I find this very Exciting.

I can see Mum lifting up one hoof at the time, as she is starting to stomp away in a standing Applause. Only to realize, my Hooves move in time with hers. I can’t resist; my hooves are moving up and down, up and down.

It is strange, but I can’t consider myself restricted; as I am relishing in the Experience, shared with my Mum.

“Yay!” I exclaim, though my Mouth still is closed; but Mum hears it loud and clear, all the same.

I can see how she is reacting on my expression; as she is smiling back at me.

<--- --- --->

Consequences: Accepted

<--- --- --->

Consequences: Accepted: 7

<--- --- --->

I am already excited, very excited; she knows it, accepting to permit me to slip into the control of my Halter. If she knew of the consequences it entails; but she had accepted this, all the same.

As I am feeling the setting of my Halter changing, I only grow more excited; I simply can not help myself, even before I had realized what is to happen.

As the Halter is entering Ponnequine mode, my Saddle and Stockings are following suit. This much had been expected and accepted before we had even asked for this alteration of my Accessories. Rarity had performed the alterations herself, linking the mode of the Socks, Stockings and Saddles; before she had initiating the adjustments.

Adjusting the settings is a simple item, once this link had been established; just as linking these items into a complete ensemble had been just as easy, for Rarity. Had she performed these before?

If this is the effect intended, with the Ponnequine mode; but it is what happens, and how I am experiencing this. Just the fact, that I can not open my mouth or even part my lips in the least; but that much had been implied and I had willingly accepted this. It is, why I had asked for it; in the first place. Isn’t it?

Had I already been affected, by wearing the Ponnequine’s halter? Well, too late to complain or regret that now. I can’t go back in time and have it undone. I should have known this, if anyone. Or, is it Anypony?

While the Saddles isn’t having any overt effect on me; but the Stockings, covers my entire legs. Just as the Halter is controlling my muzzle, just by staying in contact with my Skin; the Saddle and Socks or Stockings had the same control over my Body. Of course; the control can only extend as far, as the contact with the skin is reaching. My Halter is controlling my Muzzle; since it is touching the skin on my Muzzle; the Saddle is only in contact with the skin on my back, while the Stockings are covering my entire legs all the way up.

If the Halter had been designed for a Ponnequine; does it make me react, as if I had been a Ponnequine as well? I have no idea, but I still enjoy the effect it is having on me, as it is exciting me. Would the Ponnequine be just as Excited, as I am? What if I were to acquire something covering my entire body?

Still, I am excited; I can not help myself, as I am being excited by the contact with the Halter and the effects it is having on me.

What will happen to me, how will this Halter and its linked Accessories affect me, as I am growing up, under its influences? I have no idea; but the prospect still is exciting me, all the same.

While I have only owned this Halter for a very short time, less than a week; will the halter keep adjusting me, and adjust to me as I am growing up? If it is adjusting to my body, I am certainly looking forwards to experiencing it.

<--- --- --->

What I had not expected, what I could not have expected; is what is coming next, as the Halter is entering the Ponnequine Mode. It feels as if the stockings bonds to my skin, fusing to my body in the process. My legs are turning into a stiff rubber; glossy and Black, just as the Stockings I had just slipped into before she had adjusted the setting of my Halter.

I can no longer move my legs, as much as I may try; had it entered my mind, I could even have wanted to move my legs.

As my Lips had been smiling, before she adjusted the settings of my Halter; my lips now stuck in the expression, making me maintain the mood going with the smile.

“Could you tighten up the straps to my Saddle?” I inquire.

“Yes; but of course, Dear!” she responds; as she is turning to perform the requested adjustments, without a single thought.

Since I had asked her, she is only too happy to help me out. If she had known the consequences of the act; but she is performing the adjustments, all the same.

She loves to help me; because she is loving me. I know as much, as she had been demonstrating this from the moment she lay eyes upon me, as I stepped off of the train.

Maybe, just maybe; the Halter is adjusting her perspective too, even if it is from the parental setting she is commonly using.

I feel her pulling the straps around my belly tighter, tighter and tighter still.

As she is tightening up the straps, I feel how the saddle is tightening up; but it is also tightening up the control it is having upon me, in the process. Once she is finally letting go of the straps, my stockings had almost fused completely to my legs.

Once she had tightened up my Saddle; she is tightening up her very own Saddle, in the same manner. While she is tightening up her Saddle; I can see the effect of her Stockings fusing to her legs, as I can see how the Stockings gain more and more definition in the process.

“Would you like a Ride?” she asks; “I could be your Carousel, for a moment!” she then adds, sounding as if she were enjoying me to ride her.

“Yay!!” I exclaim; “Can I ride you, Mum?” I inquire; “I would love to ride you, as a Carousel!” I conclude.

“Then, Squeak; I will be your Carousel!” she exclaims; as she is lifting me up, placing me on her saddle.

I feel my hind hooves slipping into the stir-ups hanging from her Saddle; before I feel my forelegs adjusting, in order to hold on to her too. It is a curious experience, as I am finding myself in her Saddle, preparing to ride her like a Carousel Pony.

“Yay!!” I exclaim, in excitement.

Once I had taken my seat, in her Saddle,; she starts to move, almost as if she had been the Carousel Horse. (Or, Pony) Just that she will have to trot around the room, on her own legs; leaving the squeaky noises, as she is trotting around the small room. I feel her, her excitement; I know it isn’t just me, she is enjoying this with me. (Maybe she enjoys to experience my Excitement, too; making this a Twice Blessed moment, as I am loving the excitement she is offering me. Of course; this moment could not last, but she could still provide me the ride.

<--- --- --->

Once the ride had concluded; she chose to polish each and every stocking I am wearing, including my Saddle in the process. Naturally; she is polishing her own Stockings and Saddle, before she is forced to end the moment.

I should have known, this could not last, shouldn’t I?

<--- --- --->

I Dream of Mum’s Carousel

<--- --- --->

I Dream of Mum’s Carousel: 8

<--- --- --->

I wake up, early; the Sun of Celestia is barely even up yet; and this is in the middle of the Summer. Yes, I am wide awake and excited.

I am slipping out of bed, bouncing down the flight of stairs, with the scent of Mum’s freshly prepared Breakfast teasing my nostrils no end. So, of course it is early.

<--- --- --->

I am trotting into the small room, in the basement, where none can see us. Well, but of course, none can see us down here. There isn’t even a window in the room.

There is a small staircase, leading up to a platform beside me. By the side of the platform; I can see my Carousel Pony, it’s Mum. She is still wearing the glossy Black full-length stockings covering her entire legs. Only now; her hooves are Metallic Bloody red, as if she had been wearing a pair of boots over her stockings.

On closer inspection; she is wearing her Black Saddle, matching the Stockings she is wearing, even if the rim of the Saddle is Metallic Bloody Red. She is wearing her Halter, too.

On second thought; it does not look as if she is wearing Stockings, her legs are Rubber, like a Carousel Pony should be having. Shouldn’t she? She is turning her head towards me, following me with her gaze, as I am approaching her.

I climb the short flight of stairs, approaching her from the behind; before I slowly climb up onto her Saddle, slipping my Metallic Bloody Red hooves into the stir-ups dangling from her Saddle.

My hooves soon find a comfortable, secure position; as I am sitting on her Saddle, holding on to her neck.

As I am sitting on the Saddle, the platform soon sinks down as if it was melting away.

The Saddle is sticky, as if she was making her best in order to make sure I could not fall off. But, of course; she did not want me to fall off of her; since this would just ruin the moment together, if I had fallen off of her. (How could she? She is my Mother, after all!)

Once she feels that I am safely in place; I feel the halter slipping into the Ponequine mode, keeping me stuck in position. The next moment, she starts to move. She is my Carousel Horse (Pony) in the Carousel of our own.

I even hear the music, of the carousel. (Whether it is in my head, or if it is actually playing in the room. I do not know; but, I guess: it is all the same to me!) The music is loud, but that is part of the deal. I am riding the carousel. Even if my Mum is the carousel Horse right now. As opposed to the carousel at the Carousel Boutique.

She had chosen to be my Carousel Horse, of her own volition. (None had forced or coerced her into it. I can only imagine, she is enjoying doing this for me)

I am enjoying the ride, even in this case, stuck in the control of the halter we had asked Rarity to provide us with. (Even knowing full-well, that these are Ponequine Halters; with everything that comes with it, and with the specific settings for the halter in full force)

As a matter of fact, I had even insisted on keeping this feature; even after I had experienced it, first hoof myself. (Even if that had been just for a brief moment, but still)

Since Mum had agreed, with me; Rarity had conceded, producing the products we had asked for. Apparently; Rarity is the Element of Generosity; as such, she gives you, what you ask for. Well; maybe she had seen more, than either I or my Mum had realized.

<--- --- --->

For how long the ride had lasted, I have no idea. I had simply enjoyed it, far too much; for time to pester me, in this instance. The ride had ended, before she permitted me another ride.

While the Carousel Horse is still Mum, it is still a second ride.

I enjoy it all the same. Or, is it all the more? Either way, I had been enjoying the ride; from the first to the last instant. (Why shouldn’t I)

I’m the Filly, being offered the ride; thus I am enjoying it, to the fullest.

“This is the most exciting ride I have ever had..” I ponder, knowing full-well Mum could hear me. (Mum, and only Mum can hear me, right now.)

“I know..” Mum responds, even if she only knows of what I had experienced in her care. “and I love being your Carousel Horse..” she continues.

The moment lingers.

The ride ends, and a new ride starts.

Eventually, the final ride comes to an end.

I had known it, all along; I had just chosen to ignore it, in order to focus on the hear and now. Permitting me to enjoy the moment, for as long as it would last.

I feel the mode of the halter slide into a different mode, permitting me to slide off of the Carousel Horse.

I am standing beside my Mum, the Carousel Horse. She moves towards the stairs with me in tow. I am navigating the flight of stairs, just a step behind her. (Parental Control Mode)

<--- --- --->

I end up in my own bed, once more. I am sleepy.

After a moment, I am lying in my own bed, resting comfortably; before I feel the characteristic sensation of the halter slipping back into the Ponequine Mode, whereupon I find myself stuck in the position for the remainder of the night.

I soon fall asleep, while Mum steps out of the room; only to wake up in the same position, the following morning. Still in the same position. (My legs folded under my belly.)

<--- --- --->

To Rarity, and Back

<--- --- --->