Filly Fetish Fashion

The promised twenty-four hours of ecstatic orgasms had taken quite the toll on me; but I had enjoyed it royally, so I think it is still well worth it.

I had experienced the strongest climax ever, just as she extracted the anal plug; then I had been aware for a moment, before I collapsed into an unconscious state. She carried me to a bed and extracted me from my suit. She even put in the effort, in putting on a pair of white cotton panties and a matching top. I slowly grow aware of this, as I am waking up.

White? She could have chosen any colour, but Sweetie Belle is Sweetie Bell; there is no way around it, but this is the Sweetie Belle I enjoy hanging out with. White is the colour she chose for me, because she is Sweetie Belle.
Why complain?

"The panties do feel good around my hips!” I ponder.

Then it hit me, she had reinserted that leash plug into my belly button. Why? There is a reason, but it escapes me, for now. I barely feel the plug, as it is inserted, in my belly button.

“Isn't that plug a full five inches long?” I ponder; “But there is no way that could fit in my belly button!” I conclude.

Since the plug had been in me, for the entire time, it has been influencing me subconsciously. While I am not aware of it, that one detail she had added; before she extracted my anal plug, in order to grant me the long awaited climax had also affected my physical body. While that influence may not be deep, the influence is still there.

Now I reach for my belly button with my right hand, probing my belly with the index-finger of my right hand. My belly is smoother than I could recall, and more elastic than I had imagined it should be; not all that much, but just enough to make me notice it. The more I think of it, the more the effect is irrefutable, to me.

Considering the other day, I do not complain. Why? I had enjoyed the treat, royally. Shouldn't I? After all the effort she had put into it.

The orifice is feeling wet, if just a hint of it. Wet and slippery. I slide my hand down my belly, and my hand soon reaches my mound still drooping; the orchid hard and stiff, still a bit wet after all the excitement.

“I guess that is the price, of enjoying too many orgasms?” I ponder, reflecting upon the situation and what I had just experienced.

If she would like to give me this treat again, I certainly would love that. I had enjoyed it the first time, so I know I will enjoy it again, the next time. The week-end only permits so much fun, though. I am still a bit weak, after the event I had been submitted to.

My hand continues to slide down and back between my legs. My rear orifice is just as wet as my orchid, which does feel a bit weird and out of place. I could understand my orchid being wet from the orgasms, but that is about it.

The rim of my rump is the same highly elastic and hard rubbery sensation. While she had taken the suit off of me, the effect of her treat lingers with me. I did not know how or why, she had never mentioned. She had forgotten to explain, how the treat should affect me, with the last acts in mind.

The more I touch myself, the more obvious and pronounced the effect is. Am I imagining this; or is it due to me exploring it, unless it is a reaction the act of the exploration.

I lift up my left hand to my face, feeling my slippery and wet lips. This is the aftermath of her treat, as well as the late addition of the lip-gloss.

If I imagine my lips as they were the night before, would they retain the characteristics I am imagining? Maybe I should try, or maybe I should refrain from that endevour? Either way, the image is entering my mind and I try to part my lips in preparation to speak. In chock and surprise, I realize that the trick seems to hold up. I feel the effect on my elastic lips growing hard and rubbery.

“Whoa!” I exclaim.

I look up, scanning the room; searching for what is to see, other than the bed and a bed-stand to the side of my bed.

I soon find a chair and a table towards the other end of the room. The seat of the chair had been coated with a white silicon. Trust Sweetie to apply the white silicon to the chair.

There is a vial of red nail-polish standing on the table. On second thought, both the back of the chair and the table-top is coated with the same white silicon.

I slip out of the top and panties, once I am standing up; walking to the table and then sitting down. The silicon-coated seat is quite comfortable, if yet somewhat hard to sit on. Halfway down, I am barely aware of a large plug slowly entering my rump and pushing into my anal cavity. As I am seated, I feel the distinct pinch; as the plug plop, riveting itself securely inside.

“Curious!” I exclaim, though still stiff lips.

As I attempt to stand up, I realize that my rump indeed is stuck on the chair under my rump. I can't stand up, unless I could extract the plug.

I lean forwards, picking up the vial of nail-polish. It is indeed red.

“Ruby” I read, on the label of the polish.

“Ruby, that is the polish she used on my hooves the other day!” I point out, to myself.

I open the vial and starts painting my nails. Starting with the thumb of my right hand and continue all the way to the pinkie. From there I continue with the left thumb, all the way to the pinkie.

I had started from the root of the nail, center; then continues right and left, right and left. I notice how the lacquer is growing hard and glossy, as it is curing. Once cured, the nail turns semi-square and reach up to the final joint of the nail. After a mere minute, each of my nails are an inch long and perfectly curved.

“Ruby!” I ponder, remembering what a ruby is; “Could it be, the lacquer turned my nails into ruby as well?” I offer.

With nothing better to do, I polish the nails of my toes as well. These nails were already red, just as the nails of my fingers. These nails change in a similar manner, but refuses to grow beyond the edge of the toe.

While I had failed to hear Sweetie Belle, I can clearly hear the door go up as she enters the room. First now, I realize that she is wearing a pair of white stockings.

“You are quite comfortable, where you sit; I take it!” she exclaims, as she sees me on the chair.

I just nod. I make an effort, showing how I try to speak; my lips stiff, after I had pictured them as the glossy rubber they had been the day before.

“Beautiful, you painted your nails!” she responds, as she is observing my hands.

“Yes, I did; and I have to agree, it does look quite good!” I ponder.

As I finally do look up, I notice her wearing a purple top and skirt. Under the skirt, she is wearing the full-length, silicon white and semi-glossy toe-stockings. Her stockings does not squeak, as opposed to the rubber variety.

“I take it, you enjoyed the treat I offered you the other day!” she points out.

I just nod, as I look up at her. She stands beside me, smiling back at me. Of course, how could I not enjoy coming; though I had enjoyed the entire treat, every aspect of what she had offered me.

If only I had realized, just how deep she had affected me; how much she had changed me, even if she had used only the temporary products. While I am no longer wearing the suit, but she had reminded me of what she gave me. I had in turn accepted the gift, recalling what she gave me.

As carefully as she had lifted the spell, traces are still remaining. I could not let go, as I am holding on to what she gave me.

Since I can see, that you enjoy the look of my stocking; maybe I could tempt you, with a pair of your own to try on?” she offers, giggling expectantly.

“Oh, yes!” I ponder, nodding my ascent.

“Here you go!” she responds, as she is putting a pair of stockings before me.

I pick up the right stocking; slipping my foot in, before I pull it all the way up and give it a few tentative tugs.
Once the stocking is on, I continue and repeat the process; slipping the left stocking on, pulling it up.

“There, that does look great!” she points out.

She steps up behind me, releasing me. I feel the plug slip out of me, permitting me to raise onto my feet.

Once released, I push myself up and raise to my feet; walking around the room, as I am examining the stockings.

No squeaks, only silicon white coating my legs and feet. I can see each of my individual toes and feet, just as I see the white silicon covering my legs all the way up to my crouch.

“The image of your hard rubber-muzzle really caught your fancy, didn't it?” she inquire; “In which case; your muzzle will prevent you from speaking for the rest of the day, at the very least!” she continues, explaining my situation.

“I think I should help her reinforce that lovely image!” Sweetie Belle ponders, smiling at the image.

Feeling that plug being pulled out of me had felt strange, but I guess it is good to be able to move around freely. I may need to walk, to where I need to go next.

“You may like, to wear this?” she suggests; “ You just need to extract the plug, before you slip into the suit!” she points out.

She demonstrates how to extract the plug, and I follow her instructions; the plug soon comes out and I slip into the suit I had worn the day before. Of course, I feel the effect of everything she had done to my suit, as I put it on. Incidentally, there is no way around that, right now.

“Now you can insert that plug; once more, if you prefer to?” she suggests.

“Yes, please!” I ponder, nodding my head vigorously.

There is no trick in how to insert the plug, as tricky as it may have been to extract it. I feel the plug slip in, then plop. There is the now familiar pinch, as the plug rivets itself into place.

“See, the suit fits seamlessly with the stockings!” she exclaims; pointing at the place, where the seam should have been seen.

I look down, only to fail finding where the suit and the stockings meat; I reach down, rubbing the smooth silicon, but finds no border between the two garments.

“Right now, I need to see you enjoy your breakfast!” she points out, in no uncertain terms.

I just nod, knowing that she is absolutely right. I had after all had nothing to eat, after that cup of tea we had as I arrived the day before. It is bound, to be late Saturday evening by now. Isn't it?

As she leads, I eagerly follow her out of the room and down the flight of stairs. From there, she continues into the kitchen and pulls out a large bowl of salad. Then she also picks up a plate and a fork for me; before she shovel over a large portion over, for me to enjoy.

I sit down by the table, waiting expectantly. Then I realize a mistake, I can't eat the salad; unless I have my human mouth, so I can part my lips enough to insert a fork-full of food in my mouth.

With an effort, I manage to envision that face I wore as I arrived at her place; feeling how the features of my face are changing back, to that human face.

With fork in hand, I stab the vegetables eagerly; lifting the fork to my mouth and chew. When my plate is empty, she fills it right up again; for me to have another go at it. I end up, eating like a horse; or possibly, a Pony.

She had been watching me while I ate, but I had failed to notice; far too engulfed in the salad, she had presented me with. Once she finally stopped filling up my place, I find a cup of steaming hot tea before me. She has a cup of her own, slowly sipping on the delicious brew. I join her, in enjoying the beverage she had just brewed for the both of us.

“You really do eat like a horse!” she is teasing me; with a crooked grin on her face, giggling.

“You inspire me!” I respond; “And I guess, this suit is not exactly helping, either?” I inquire.

“You certainly did take, to the Filly Fetish Fashion; with gusto!” she points out.

“Well, the image just came to me, and I was enjoying it!” I point out; “Then I have been experiencing the multiple orgasms, for an entire day!” I continue.

“I guess her fashion, can have that effect on you?” she puts forth; “Hard to resist, once you are in there!” she informs me.

“But alas, I think you need a walk, right now!” she offers.

“I guess that could be fun, but outside?” I respond, not quite sure of myself.

“Well, yes!” she confirms.

“Oh, okay!” I respond.

“Don't worry, I have the clothes you need!” she offers.

“Thank you, Sweetie; you are the best!” I respond.

“First of all, you will need a pair of matching gloves!” she points out.

“Yes, that makes sense!” I respond.

“Right this way, please!” she urges me.

I eagerly follow her, up-stairs to the room I had just left before she offered me my breakfast. She pulls out a pair of gloves, matching my stockings. I accept them and slips them on, right and left.

Once on, I barely even feel the soft squeak-free silicon on my skin. The same, silicon white as the stockings. A single, smooth white surface of silicon. Strangely enough, it feels almost like skin, to the touch.

There are a few differences, though. I can trace where my nails are, but that is about that. I have a suction-cup covering the palm of the hand, and bright, cerise touch-pads at the edge of each finger; covering the finger from the last joint, to the nail.

On second thought; my stockings have these touch-pads too, but not the suction-cups. Would have been odd; with the suction-cups, though.

“You would need these!” she offers; as she is handing over a frilly skirt and a matching top.

“Okay!” I respond, as I accept the suit, stepping into the skirt and pulling the top down over my head.

“There, looking good!” she puts forth.

Maybe her fashion-sense is not quite on par with that of Rarity, but I think it is good enough for me.

“One small detail!” she points out, as I stand behind the door; “You need this, don't you?” she continues, before she is once more inserting the plug into my belly button.

“Oh!” I exclaim, as I am feeling the pinch from the plug riveting itself.

“There, much better!” she exclaims, as she is teasing me by rubbing the exposed base of the plug.

“Ooh, ooh!” I exclaim, in response to the stimuli she gives me.

There is a hint of dissonance between the suit and the stockings and gloves. The suit is supporting a quadruped stance, while the stockings and gloves clearly are reinforcing my bipedal stance.

Under the top and skirt, only the white skin is visible. The glossy and smooth silicon may stick out a bit, but other than that it looks and feel normal for me.

Sweetie Belle opens the door and I follow her out. I close the door behind us, feeling the effect of the gloves.

The path from the door of her cottage is laid with smooth, black stones. I enjoy the feel I have from stepping on the path, as I walk with Sweetie towards the road.

My skin is teased by a faint, frisky breeze on the air. Like always, the weather is warm and bright. While they do have rain, when it is needed, otherwise, it is sunny and ready for a fun picnic.

Maybe I should have moved to Ponyville, but I love my home. I can always take a trip over to Ponyville, and see my friend Sweetie Belle. It is just a hop in my hover, anyway.

She leads me over the path, out onto the street. I follow her to the forest, where she points out the path she had intended for us to walk.

“Okay, we're here!” I observe, as I am walking by her side along the path under the trees.

“Yes, exactly; which brings us to the fun, if you don't mind!” she exclaims.

She presents me with the leach, she had intended for me. Not the one used indoors; but one for outdoors, with a longer, highly elastic tether. I just nod.

“Okay, looks like so much fun!” I exclaim.

With that, she connects the leach to the plug inserted into my belly button. Once the leach is securely connected, she gives it a few tentative tugs.

With each of her tugs, I feel the skin of my belly stretching. I just giggle. I pull up the top enough to see, noticing that the skin is slightly glossier than before.

“Give it another tug, please; I want to see it, in the open!” I plead.

“Oh, okay!” she responds, giving the tether a few tentative tugs.

While the leach still does stretch, I can see the skin stretch more with each consecutive tug she gives. I giggle again, as I see my skin stretch like elastic rubber.

I place the palm of my right hand on my belly, spreading my fingers; slowly stroking the skin, feeling the touch under the sensitive touch-pads.

“Ooh!” I exclaim; “That feels curiously good!” I add.

She yanks the leach, exclaiming; “Time to continue our walk!”

“Of course, it just distracted me!” I respond, as I follow her along the path.

As she continues to walk along the path, I follow her; merely sniffing the air, from time to time. Incidentally, I picture my lips glossy. I also image the muzzle on my face. Before I knew it, the muzzle appears on my face.

“Oups” I ponder, as I realize the effect my imagination is having upon me.

The more I try to let go of the image, the stronger it grabs hold on me. The more I focus upon the muzzle, the more pronounced the change is on my face. I am mute, incapable of uttering a single noise since my lips are too hard.

“I guess I had expected this, so I am prepared!” she points out.

With that, she is producing the muzzle; putting it over my muzzle and secures it behind my neck.

I distinctly feel the smooth silicon pressing against my face, making it impossible for me to ignore it or stop thinking of it. The muzzle is crystal clear, tight but otherwise quite comfortable.

“That suits you, you know!” she points out; “I like the look, if you don't mind!” she continues.

I just nod, as I continue to follow her. One thing leads to another, the situation inspires me to expand the image. A moment later, my ears are on the top of my head; perfectly equine looking, like the Pony she is inspiring me to become.

“How will she take this, and what will she do when she notices it?” I ponder.

Since I am mute, with the muzzle on; I say nothing, as I follow her further and further along the trail she had chosen for the two of us.

Of course the muzzle is not just covering my muzzle, it had slipped into my mouth, between my lips. While I am walking with her, she is pushing me towards becoming that Pony. I barely notice it, but it is undenyingly happening to me. I do not complain, because I enjoy it far too much.

“Good thing, you had your breakfast already!” she is teasing me.

From time to time, she is pulling me in; I had asked her to, even if I had not imagined it quite like this back when I asked her. The effect is largely the same, and I love how it feels.

Eventually, we reach the end of the trail and she leads me back home. She opens the door and I follow her inside. The walk is over, as she is closing the door behind us. I certainly had enjoyed it, both the company and the walk.

“Right this way, please!” she is urging me, as she is leading me upstairs.

I nod and follow her. She opens the door and I step in, with here a mere step behind. The door is closed behind us.

“Since we are alone, indoors; I suggest you try something!” she points out.

I just nod. She directs me to stand with my back up against the closed door. As she stands before me, she directs me to lift my arms up to a foot above my head. As I press the palms of my hands against the wall; a squeak is heard.

I feel her hands pressing my hands down, hard. Now I realize, my hands are stuck. All I get, for pulling at my hands, are whiney squeaks.

“I wish I could give you a full twenty-four hours, but a week-end only has so many hours!” she points out.

“Since you are prepared, I can save the time, and give you a few hours of fun!” she offers.

“Oh, yes; I certainly am wet enough, for her to plug me right up! I realize, nodding.

“I guess you would like to have the same plug as yesterday!” she offers, as she is dipping it into the lubrication and slips it into my rear orifice.

I find myself contracting on impact, and the plug slowly slipping into me. The plug continues in all the way, making the contraction harder and more pronounced until it plops with a distinct pinch, as it is riveted into me.

“Ooh, ooh!” I ponder.

Once my first plug is securely in place, she picks up the next one; dipping it into the lubrication and introduces it to me. I find myself helplessly contracting upon contact, and enjoy how the contraction only grows more pronounced; as she is pushing it further and further in. There is a distinct pinch, as the plug plops; now firmly riveted into my orchid, holding on to me all by itself.

“There, that does feel good; doesn't it?” she inquires, in an urging, teasing tone.

I nod, confirming, what she had already known. She asked, to make sure I am all right; just as much as it is for her own pleasure.

“Since this is already in place, I can move up to the next step!” she points out, tugging the tether of the leach connected to the plug in my belly button.

“Since you are taking so well, to being a Pony; maybe I should have had a halter, just for you?” she inquires.

While I do not know if she is serious, or just teasing me; I am still nodding ascent, knowing she loves it so much.

“As a matter of fact, I think I have one, in your size!” she responds, demonstrating that she is dead serious.

“Whoa! She meant it, and actually has a halter for me?” I realize, in chock.

Thankfully, the muzzle manages to keep me and my head firmly in the scene she had built up with such loving care. Maybe I have to get used to the teases and chocks she is delivering to me.

Judging my reaction, she gives me a minute of stimulation. I find her face over my mound, as she is lapping away at me. Did she like it, that much; or, is it the taste of my wet juices she enjoys? I do not know; but I could ask her, first chance I get.

“There, that should keep you in!” she pronounces, as she is pulling her head back.

“That certainly does feel good!” I realize, all excited from her attention.

Of course, her action reinforces the image; as a reward for being good.

“Since you initiated this, I ought to take you all the way!” she points out.

With that; she is slipping my stockings of, right and left. Once she had stored away my white stockings, she extracts my black stockings; helping me into them, and everything they are representing. I can see my legs change, as a direct effect of her action. My legs now fully equine, fully adapted to the stance and posture that comes with it.

“It feels a bit strange, to see my legs stand right out from the wall!” I ponder.

Now she spreads my legs, diving right in; awarding me with more stimulating excitement, as she laps away at me for another minute.

“Sorry, but I will need to take you down from the wall!” she explains.

“Of course!” I realize; “She could not take my gloves off of me, in order to put on the black once on!” I ponder.

She reaches for my right hand, releasing the suction with a swift flourish. While I am hanging from my left hand, she is stepping around my legs, reaching out for my left hand. With another flourish, she is releasing the suction and I would have fallen to the floor; if not for the fact: that she is supporting my weight for enough time, to slow the decent.

I find myself sitting on the floor; while she is pulling the right glove off of me, before she is slipping the black glove on. From there, she is repeating the process; pulling the left glove of, before she is replacing it with the black one. Finally, she stores the white gloves away and helps me up onto my hooves.

“There, that feels better?” she inquires.

I just nod. What else could I do, since I am still mute. Very much so, in fact.

Now she is helping me pull down my skirt, so that I can step out of it. Once she had stored the skirt away, she helps me pull the top up over my head, so that I can step out of that too. She stores the top away, with the skirt and I am finally ready.

She quietly leads me back to the position I had been in, while she had played with me the other day. Just like then, I am standing still, obedient; the only difference, is that my head now had become fully equine.

She produces the gel that will fuse my hooves to the floor. Just like then, she starts with first stage. Hoof by hoof; right and left, fore and hind hoof fuses to the floor, as she is applying the gel along the rim of my hoof.

“Time for an experiment!” she explains; as she is applying gel to the rim of my anal plug, effectively fusing the plug to my rump.

“Curious!” I ponder; “But, why does she do this now?” I continue.

She never told me; not then, and certainly not now. She still performed this step, while I am still aware of her doing it. Why did she change the game?

She manages to reach in under me, lapping at me for a full minute. She makes me feel good about what she is doing to me. I am growing more and more excited, with each step of the way. She purposefully builds up the suspense, as she is awarding me for everything she is exposing me to.

As I am looking down, at my hooves; I can see her applying the phase two gel and my hooves are fusing even further. Only this time, she applies more gel around the plug inserted into my anal cavity.

“If you do not mind; I need to remove your muzzle!” she explains.

With that, she is unfastening the muzzle behind my neck and pulls it right off. She is producing the gel she had coated my face with, the other day; covering my entire face, holding all the equine features firmly and irrevocably in place for the duration.

“Nice and squishy, just as you like it!” she proclaims.

Now she is reaching in, under my belly; removing the tether-leash from the plug in my belly button. She apparently does not need it, or she may think it may distrect me. Either way, I guess that is thoughtful of her.

“Time for your ride, I urgently need you to come!” she explains.

Without further ceremony, she slides in under me and places her lips right onto the plug riveted into my vagina; once there, she places a kiss squarely in the middle, before she is starting to gently lick me. I feel her tongue lap away at me, pushing me further and further towards that one special orgasm. Just in time, the orgasm hits home; after the ten minutes in total.

She slides out from under me. Once up, she stores away everything she had left behind, in order to produce the next gel. I can see her applying the gel to my hooves. That was the third phase. The half-way point in that process of fusing me to the floor and the room.

She stores away the gel, before she is producing the next tube, applying the gel to my hooves. Right and left, fore and hind. Only to store away the tube. I watch her, as she is applying the industrial grade and the surgical grade.

The floor turns a light pink, just like before; while my hooves are mixed with the clear silicon the floor had been coated with. The next time; the floor is turning an opaque red, matching my hooves.

“If I can't give you the full twenty-four hour treat; I am giving you at least two hours of fun!” she points out.

Once she had explained the situation, she slips in under me and offers me the full hour of stimulation, lapping away at me. She is pushing me from that first orgasm, all the way up to orgasmic. I am firmly peaked, incapable of climax. I have to rely on her granting it to me, or I will remain like this, forever trapped in the eternal bliss of this one orgasm.

Since I am distracted, I do not notice her placing a black silicon saddle onto my back. Neither do I notice her strapping it around my back, securing it in place.

She is wearing her black suit, and white stockings and gloves as she is mounting me. While I sense her sitting there, I am oblivious of her actually being in the room.

Once she had mounted me, she slowly and carefully navigate in order to make her plugs slip into place. Wet and slippery; she enjoys the ride, on my back. The plugs are stimulating her, treating her to reach the orgasm she had desired. She is riding me for at least one hour, enjoying the effect of the plugs moving inside her vagina and rump.

Once she feels she had had enough, when she could not take more excitement; she pulls her rump up and pulls the plugs out, before she is dismounting me. She is landing elegantly, on the floor a few feet to the right of me.

“I need to offer you one final treat, in order to remind you of all the fun!” she points out.

While I may not be aware of what she says, she still needs to pronounce the words; as much for herself, as it is to me. She is coating my face with a clear silicon, thus creating a solid face-mask she could make me wear at a later date.

Once she had finished the task of producing the mask, she stores the tube away. While out of sight, she is producing a crystal clear, foot-long yello; pressing it onto my muzzle and inserting it into my mouth.

The hard tip of the silicon easily parts my squishy, elastic lips. Once the tip is inside, the yello easily probes my mouth and continues down my throat, as far as its length could permit.

She leaves the yello in my mouth, as she is unbuckling the saddle and pulls it of off my back. I could have seen her storing the saddle away, but since I am distracted in my orgasmic state; I am completely oblivious of what is taking place in the room.

Once the saddle is safely stored away, she is giving the yello a few tugs in order to see my muzzle stretch. She enjoys teasing me for several minutes.

Once she had let go of the yello, she walks around me and stops by my rump. There she is grabbing hold of my anal plug, giving it a few tentative tugs; before she is resolutely yanking it right out of me, thus breaking the seal she had so carefully crafted. The effect of breaking this seal is substantially deepening my equine connection with the suit I am still wearing.

As the plug slips out of me, I experience the long awaited climax, a mere moment later. As I open my previously glazed over eyes; I can see the mask on my face of the yello, she inserted into my mouth.

“Finally!” she exclaims, excitedly; “I hope you enjoyed your ride!” she then adds.

I just nod. She giggles, in agreement.

I watch her light up her horn. With her horn clearly aglow, she is peeling of one layer of the gel on my hooves at the time; releasing me and my hooves one layer at the time.

Once she had finished the process, I lift my hooves, one at the time; right and left, fore and rear. Now I am turning towards her, facing her with a wide grin.

She extracts the yello from my mouth and stores it away. As she returns, she is pulling the mask off of my face and it is following the yello into the wardrobe. Incidentally, the process of pulling the mask of is reverting my face to its original human features.

“That was strange, but I loved every instant of it!” I point out; “Thank you, Sweetie!” I add.

“No problem!” she responds; “My pleasure, don't mention it!” she then adds, giggling.

“Of course, this is Sweetie Belle; it is who she is, and she is generous by nature and upbringing!” I ponder.

“At least, we do have a few hours left, don't we?” I inquire.

“Yes, we certainly do!” she responds; “And we can do this again, any time you come back here!” she promises.