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                   Filly Fetish Fashion                    
                     -by Kentavritsa-                      
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                   A Filly's Fashion: 1                    
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A Filly's Fashion: 1
I am on the train to Ponyville, to see Rarity at the Carousel boutique.
Choosing the early train, means that I could be able to take the train back, the same day. I do not wish to impose myself upon Rarity and her family; and I do not expect to find any room over the night, had I chosen this option. Besides, I do not want to stay longer than I have to, in order to acquire what I had in mind.
Maybe I could afford to see the Spa, and enjoy a moment with Aloe or Lotus, but that is the limit.
I wear a cerise skirt and a matching vest, under my saddlebags. My mark had been embroidered onto the sides of the bags, just a few weeks ago. I am proud of the work.
I can see puffs of smoke, billowing from the front of the train, where I am sitting. This is after all a steam engine, so the smoke is expected.
The train jumps with each seam of the track, leaving telltale noises. These could lull you into sleep, if it is late at night and you are tired, but could as easily keep you awake if you are weary.
The train is soon to arrive at my destination, and I am growing excited. I am very expectant, of what is before me at the village of Ponyville.
After a few more minutes, the train starts to slow down; I start preparing for the departure, and gets up from my seat. As the train finally does stop, I have gathered myself and my few belongings and moved to the exit.
The door opens, and I step off of the train, orienting myself and heads for the main destination. My goal is to reach the Carousel Boutique. Trotting there does take me several minutes, but the effort will be worth it, if I manage to get there.
“Finally, I am here!” I realize, just as I step out into the village; “I will see Rarity, and will be able to have my own, first suit!” I continue, while I notice just how much more lively the bustling community is.
“Whoa?” I ponder, as I see Ponies rushing this way, or that.
The streets are packed, with Ponies left and right. Here I come, expecting the streets to be sparsely populated with just a few Ponies.
The next thing I know, there is a Donkey, a Cow and even an exotic Zebra before me on the street. I guess this is close to the center of the community, but still.
“I did not even know there were Zebra’s in Equestria, let alone a small village like Ponyville!” I ponder; “Then again, this will prove to be very interesting!” I continue, as I trot towards the Carousel Boutique.
The Carousel is fairly easy to spot, even in this strange back-wards community. The buildings look, as if they had been hoof-picked, right out of a strange fairy-tale.
“But, why does that house look, as if it had been made out of Ginger-bread?” I mumble, as I trot by the Sugar-cube Corner.
“Of course, maybe I could have had my breakfast there?” I add.
"Of course you can!" exclaims an excitedly exuberant voice; bubbling over like a pot of fudge, boiling over on slightly too high temperature.
The voice comes from a pink mare, but she had appeared from out of nowhere. She is clearly an Earth-pony with a deep, pink main curled up as if she had just had it done a bit too tight.
"When did Earth-ponies learn teleportation?" I inquire, taken aback by her sudden appearance.
"Hiya!" she exclaims.
Apparently, she is utterly oblivious, of how she comes through and what other Ponies says?
Her entire mane is bouncing about, like an excited puppy; but her bangs stand still, as if she had been pointing at me.
“She sure is pink, so I guess that would make sense!” I ponder, giggling at the weird silliness.
After a moment, I notice that she is waving a hoof at every Pony trotting by, and everyone who could possibly see her. Including the Donkey, the Cow and even the Zebra. If a Dragon or a Changeling had been trotting by, I swear she would have waved her hoof at them too.
While she clearly is focusing on me, I realize she is still managing to keep track of everything around her; waving hooves at and even swapping greetings and maintaining dialogue.
“You are new here!” she exclaims, in excitement; “I know; because I recognize every Pony in Ponyville!” she continues; “Since I have never seen you before; that means that you are new, here!” she concludes.
Since that last question had been directed at me, I had to answer her.
“Yes, I have never been to Ponyville before!” I offer; “I was hoping, I could see Rarity at her boutique, to acquire a suit!” I continue.
“Rarity does craft the very best suits, whatever you need it for!” she responds; “But, I will still have to throw you a welcome to Ponyville party!” she then declares.
“That is; why I came to Ponyville, in the first place!” I point out; “Just feels odd; that a Mare like Rarity, would live here?” I inquire; “Is she in, today?” I continue.
“You certainly did come to the right place, if you want a suit!” she exclaims, excitedly.
“Rarity is waiting for you; even if she does not know it, yet!” Pinkie points out, giggling all knowingly.
“Thank you, Pinkie!” I respond; pondering about her choice of words, perplexed.
She had managed to capture my attention, and thus distracted me from where I had been going.
“There it is, the Carousel Boutique!” she enlightens me, pointing a hoof directly at the somewhat strange building.
“Oh!” I respond; “Thank you, thank you, thank you; Pinkie!” I continue, thanking her.
“I still do owe you a party!” she points out, as if she had been borrowing something valuable and expensive from me.
If the mare had not been so friendly, her tenacity would have been creepy; though her over the top friendliness is scary too. Just in a very different, and very unexpected way.
“Good thing, I am so close to my destination; now I can excuse myself, and escape into the boutique!” I ponder.
I giggle at the situation, as I continue towards the carousel; trotting eagerly, knowing the mare is inside the building. I see Ponequines in the windows, showcasing her latest creations. Suits and dresses, for both Stallions and Mares. All very classy and elegant. These are very expensive looking, but by no means excessive.
As I push the door to the boutique open, there is the sound of a delicate chime. The next moment, I hear the sound of a voice, belonging to the mare I had come to see.
“Welcome to the Carousel Boutique! I am Rarity, how can I be of assistance?” she offers.
Author's Note
Next Chapter    
An Episode, With Rarity in the Boutique (https://www.fimfiction.net/story/451045/2/filly-fetish-fashion/an-episode-with-rarity-in-the-boutique-2)

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        An Episode, With Rarity in the Boutique: 2         
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An Episode, With Rarity in the Boutique: 2
“She sounds even more Lady-like, than I had been expecting!” I realize.
“Rarity, the Rarity who owns the Carousel Boutique?” I inquire.
“Yes, that is indeed me!” she responds.
“I am looking for a suit, hoping you would craft it for me!” I start out, explaining.
“A suit; that is something I can do! What did you have in mind?” she inquires, curiosity peaked.
“An ensemble, fetish!” I start.
“Interesting! Filly fetish? Glossy and elastic? Seamless, I take it!” she probes.
“Exactly, would that be possible?” I respond.
“Every filly is coming to my boutique; since my sister, Sweetie Belle found that suit I had made for her!” Rarity ponders; “She did not know of it, when I had crafted it for her; but it certainly did come out perfectly!” she continues.
“Indeed, perfectly! I will just need a few measurements, to work with!” she explains.
“Oh, yes; the measurements, of course!” I respond.
“Right this way, please!” she instructs me, as she leads me to the back-room behind the sales-area.
I notice her horn lighting up, just before she is opening the door. I eagerly follow her into the room. Once we’re both in the room; she silently closes the door behind us and we’re finally together in the intimate privacy, behind the door.
“I had not quite expected, to be so fortunate as to see you in private!” I mumble.
“I have heard these very words, from so many fillies the last few months!” she responds; batting her eyelashes, giggling.
Rarity is flirtatious, to the point, but she does not overdoing it, for nothing.
“What measurements do you need?” I inquire, casually scanning the room, enjoying the view of a few sketches adorning the walls of the room.
Of course, this is when I notice that her horn never really powered down, as one should have been expecting. Her horn clearly aglow, but with no trace as to where her focus and magic is.
“Let us start, with the measurements, and details of the suit you had in mind!” she points out, matter of fact.
“I think I want my suit to be, just a little bit dramatic. A sleeve-less full-body suit, with four full-length stockings; sounds like the idea!” I respond.
“That is a start; any trims, accents or accessories to go with your suit?” she inquires.
“Could I get the suit, with the impression of boots to the stockings, or a collar with attachable leash for the suit?” I respond, looking pleadingly up towards the seamstress.
Or, is it a Mistress I am pleading to?
“That could be arranged, if this is what you desire! Please, go on; I do need a few more details, before I can start sketching up your suit!” she urges me on.
“Oh? Marvelous. Metallic, bloody red hooves; then the collar needs to be pitch black, with a glistering, high gloss finish!” I elaborate; “Oh, and I need the collar to be marked Pet!” I add, almost as an afterthought.
While I am busy, distracted by picturing the suit she was crafting for me; she was taking all the critical measurements, including the most private and intimate details for the suit. Of course, she is also sketching images of the suit; such as she is imagining, my suit looking.
While I watch her sketching and drawing out the details; a Ponequine behind my back, is slowly taking on the guise of me. This is how she intends to craft the suit, the ensemble such as I am guiding her to make it look. She is just giving me a few extra accessories, I had never known I wanted.
“For some extra flare, how about inch-wide, white trims for the suit and stockings? If you want the engraved leash to read; Pet, you may like it an inch thick and two inches wide!” she explains.
“I certainly do love these ideas, why didn’t I think of this? I guess this is exactly why I came to you, Rarity!” I respond.
“You would not believe; just how many fillies just like you, saying exactly that!” she offers me.
“All of them?” I suggest, bravely.
Not that I would have believed; but it makes sense, now as I consider the situation.
“How did you know?" she inquires.
"No way!” I exclaim, in disbelief.
“That is, what they all said, too!" she responds; "But alas, back to the process of designing your suit!" she concludes.
"Oh, of course!” I respond, somewhat relieved.
"Let us see, if I got this correct!” Rarity begins "A black Filly Fetish suit; the metallic bloody red Equine hooves for boots, the inch-wide white trim and the two inch wide, inch thick collar with Pet engraved!" she concludes.
"Anything I missed, or any further detail you would like to add or adjust?” she inquires.
"That does look about right!” I respond, to the initial question.
“A bit old-fashioned!” I ponder, as I see her sketching; “But, at least she is not holding a quill in her mouth, as she works!” I continue.
After a few minutes, she is collecting the best and most recent of the drawings; before she lines them up on the table, before me.
“I enjoy feeling the material and fabrics!” she explains, as she notices my glances.
“Oh, I guess that does make sense!” I respond.
“Now, take a close look at these; then tell me, what you think!” she instructs me, to the point.
One by one, I am examining the sketches and drawings; these are all the same suit, but there are clearly distinct difference I could see. I just need to be careful, in order to pick the differences up on the details.
“This one!” I exclaim; pointing out one particular image, after careful consideration.
It is not, as if the choice had been easy, but this is the one best painting the picture I had in mind. If only I had picked up, on the details hidden under the surface of the black silicon? Oh, yes; Silicon, not Rubber.
For all I knew, the distinctions are far too vague, and the materials should have been inter-changeable. Are they not? Smooth, glossy and highly elastic. What more could I possibly have been asking for?
“Then I will go ahead, crafting the suit for you!” she offers; “I know she will be surprised, as she is finding the extras; but she will love them, just as she will be incapable of making herself pulling herself out of it!” Rarity ponders, giggling inwardly at the image.
“Yes, of course; and I am looking forwards to see and wear this suit, as soon as it is ready for me!” I respond.
I had never asked about the price, knowing rarity for the generous mare she is.
“This will take me a while, I suggest you have something to eat; unless you had other activities planned!” she explains, rather generously.
“I had planned to visit the Spa; but Lunch would be just right, right now!” I conceded.
“I would recommend the Sugar-cube Corner, unless you prefer the fancier dishes!” she points out.
“Sugar-cube Corner? Is that by any chance the Ginger-bread house I saw on my way here?” I inquire.
“Exactly! The very same!” she explains.
“Fillies your age love the place, and the mare serving there!” she then elaborates.
“I guess I will try that; since you are recommending it!” I respond.
Since I had given her all the details, she needs; I was slowly moving towards the door, and she opens to door for me.
“I will see you, when the suit is ready!” she points out.
“Thank you, once again; Rarity, I certainly will be back, by then!” I respond.
“Welcome back!” she offers, as I trot through the boutique, towards the exit.
“Wonder if it is Pinkie Pie, she was talking about?” I ponder; as I exit the carousel, on my way to the cafe.
Maybe I could or should have asked, but I will learn soon enough.
Author's Note
Previous Chapter    
A Filly's Fashion (https://www.fimfiction.net/story/451045/1/filly-fetish-fashion/a-fillys-fashion-1)
Next Chapter  A Friendly Visit

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                    A Friendly Visit: 3                    
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A Friendly Visit: 3
My friend, Sweetie Belle had just moved out; since she turned eighteen, and managed to get herself a cottage of her own.
Getting a cottage at the outskirts of Ponyville, is still fairly easy, not to mention, inexpensive. If I had not had my family in Filydelphia, I would have considered moving there too.
At least I can go there and see Sweetie Belle on short notice; since I managed to pick up my driver’s licence. Going there by hover is a quick commute, or so I think.
Never mind what I think, none else does. Well, aside from me, that is.
If my friend Sweetie Belle says that the Filly Fetish Fashion is hot, then I will agree with her. Not just because she says so, but because she is right. She certainly has a flair for, what is hot; not just because she is my friend and all, but she knows it.
Since she is such a sweet girl, she had to help me acquiring my very own suit. Maybe I could not blame her, she just wanted to help me. The suit is just as elastic, tight and glossy as I could have imagined, too. I can’t fault her for that.
I rarely do wear the suit alone, but I love wearing it with her around. I did try it out alone, an entire week-end, once. That experience is such an otherworldly excitement, I no longer trust myself with the suit alone.
Why is it called; Filly Fetish Fashion? I am no filly, or even a horse in the first place.
Is it; because it permits me, to horse around? With a full set of stockings, I certainly could move around like an excited little filly. A full set of stockings includes a pair of stockings with hooves, aside from the gloves extended with matching hooves. In my case, equine hooves of the Equestrian variety.
The suit itself is surprisingly tight and comfortable, to me. I am barely aware of wearing the suit, mere minutes after slipping into it. Maybe the level of sensitivity, while wearing the suit is the true shock; leading to the sense of relative nudity and comfortable intimacy.
While I have not tried this suit on, just yet; I do know the fashion of Filly Fetish, in general and have been looking for this meeting with anticipation and excitement.
I slow down, as I approach the village of Ponyville, then I continue to slow down until I stop and park just outside her home.
Since I had told her of my arrival, I imagine she had polished the suit up for me. I know she has worn Filly Fetish before, but have no idea; just how extensive her experience may be, on fashion in general. She is still the younger sister of Rarity; so she is bound to have extensive experience, and knowledge.
My hover is quiet, and the touch-down is perfectly silent. Had it not been, I imagine I would have been parking further away from her home.
Even as quiet as it may be; she opens her door, just as I touch ground. She steps right out, wearing nothing but a skirt and a top.
“Greetings, and welcome!” she exclaims, as I slip out of the hover.
“Hi, Sweetie!” I respond, slowly closing the door.
I continue to the door, and she steps aside; permitting me entrance, into her home. I step in, before she pulls the door shut behind me. Of course, she is after all a Unicorn.
“Right this way!” she points out, as she is leading me to the kitchen.
“Thank you, Sweetie!” I respond, as I follow her into her kitchen.
I certainly do like the dark ceramic floor-tiles, as they are clean and easy to maintain in a kitchen. A solid hardwood table out of beech, with matching chairs. There is a stainless steel table-top for the dishing area, and matching utilities; fridge, freezer and stove. Just the right size for a lone girl, with the hopes of inviting a friend over.
She pulls out two cups and pour hot water over the tea, as she prepares the welcoming. Of course, you must poor the steaming hot water over the tea, just in time for serving the beverage. I imagine she picked this up, from her older sister. Or, possibly Celestia herself?
I sit down, while she is preparing the tea; then she sits down as she finished preparing it for the two of us.
Tranquility slowly fills the room, as we sit quietly; sipping the tea, from our respective cups. Not a word is said, none is required at this time.
Once I had finished my tea, I set the cup down. She quietly puts the cups aside. I raise to my feet, and she follows suit. The moment is complete, and we are prepared for what comes next. The moment I came here for, the moment I have been looking forwards to.
I cast a final look, at the two large, white cups she is placing on the stain-less steel.
“Time for, what you have been waiting for!” she offers, in excitement.
“Oh, oh; yes!” I respond, failing to hide the built up excitement.
“Let's go to the bed-room, upstairs!” she continues, and I follow her up the flight of stairs to the second floor.
The smooth, light beech hardwood is comfortable to walk on. Once we have reached the top of the stairs, we continue towards the second bed-room. She opens the door, before she offers me entrance.
I notice the large window, spreading the light into the room. The ceiling is coated with mate, black silicon, holding the LED light in place.
“I certainly do enjoy the mood you built into this room!” I exclaim.
“Thank you; it does come out just right, if I could say so myself!” she responds.
Of course, the pink cherry-wood panels of the walls does not exactly hurt the mood. The doors to the wardrobe is just a slightly darker hue, compared with the walls themselves.
She opens the doors to the first, innermost wardrobe; indicating for me to examine the suit, she had intended for me to try on. As I step forwards, examining the suit before me; she is opening the other wardrobe, where her suit is hanging. Both suits had been prepared, she had after all polished them meticulously for an hour, each. I just had not seen her doing it.
Of yours, you will have to disrobe; before you can put the suit on, in order for us to enjoy this!” she points out, giggling.
“Oh, yes; but of course!” I just respond.
“There should be more than enough space, for you to hang your clothes in there!” she explains.
“Yes, there is!” I respond.
I pull my top up over my head, before I place it on the first hanger; leaving it hanging in the wardrobe. I slip the skirt down, kicking it up and hang that beside the top.
“Almost there!” I point out, as I slip down my panties.
“Excellent, because I know how much you will love the Filly Fetish suit!” she points out, gleefully.
Of course she knew, she had after all tried hers on before. Rarity had crafted hers, many years before. Sweetie Belle had found the suit, not knowing it had been intended for her; trying it on, curiosity driving her forwards. That had been, back in her crusading years.
Naturally, her sister Rarity had happily supplied her with updated replacements. Whether she had grown out of the garment, or just in order to improve on the appearance and fit.
With my panties hanging in the wardrobe; I had slipped my bra of and stepped out of my socks. Sweetie had kept my pace, finishing just as I did. With her practiced ease, she had maintained a measured pace.
I extract what appears to be a glossy black rubber bathing-suit. I feel the smooth and slippery surface of the material under my fingers. After a moment of hesitation, I step right into the suit, before I pull it up; slipping my hands in, thus pulling the suit the rest of the way up. I afford the suit a few tentative tugs, adjusting the fit.
“Ooh!” I exclaim, feeling the tight-hugging fit.
“I hope you like the white trim!” she points out.
“Fashioned after you, I suspect!” I respond, grinning gleefully.
“Of course!” she merely responds.
I pick up the thigh-high stockings, glancing over them and let my gaze stop at my naked toes on the floor. Stepping into the right stocking, pulling it all the way up; only affording it a few tentative tugs, before I put my foot down onto the smooth hardwood floor.
I stop short, as I see the hoof about to hit the floor. I hear my friend giggling, clearly amused by my reaction, and my confusion.
“Filly Fetish!” she exclaims, before she continues.
“Wait, what?” I inquire, not quite grasping her point.
“These stockings are purposefully extending your anatomy, to resemble that of a filly; for as long as you are wearing the suit, you know!” she explains.
“Filly Fetish, is fetish for being the filly?” I inquire.
“That is the general idea, but there is more to it; a surprise for later!” she responds, not elaborating any further.
“Curious!” I breathe, trying to wrap my brain around the offered concept presented to me.
“Should make you feel, just like a filly!” she offers, giggling.
I pick up the lift stocking, as my right hind hoof is now firmly on the floor beneath me. With that, I step into the stocking, feeling the smooth surface hugging me tightly. The further I pull the stocking up my leg, the further down my foot slips down and I am starting to feel the change.
Now I afford the stocking a few tentative tugs, as I steady myself; now supported by both my hooves.
“I feel, almost as if I had been a Satyr!” I point out.
“If the stockings had been designed with Goat hooves, that would have been quite correct!” she responds.
“These looks equine, to the point of Horse hooves!” I observe.
“Technically, these are Pony hooves! While Ponies are considered Horses, locally; Ponies merely look like Horses!” she explains.
“Oh!” I respond, as I reach for the right glove.
I manage to extract the glove from my side of the wardrobe, then slip my hand in. Pulling the glove on, inch by inch; only to give it a few tentative tugs, in order to get the fit just right.
“How do I put the left glove on, without hands?” I inquire.
“Quite easy, just try!” she points out; “If you have problems, I will be with you, in a moment!” she adds.
“Oh, okay; thank you, I will try!” I respond, as I extract the glove.
Surprisingly enough, I manage to pull the glove out and slip my hand in, before I pull it all the way up. Granted, this is how these gloves work. The suit is not intended to require any assistance, for me to put it on. I still do enjoy, taking a moment, adjusting the fit with a few tentative tugs for each individual garment.
“Clip, clop!” I hear; as my friend hits the floor, her fore-hooves squeaking on impact.
The next instant; I find myself on all fours, right there with her. I hear her close the doors of her wardrobe, before I close the other wardrobe. No point in leaving them open, when we are eager to explore the adventure together.
“That was not too hard, was it?” she inquires.
“No!” I respond, giggling.
“Just as I thought, though I did tell you that?” she points out.
I just nod.
“Clip, clop; clip, clop!” I hear my hooves squeak, as I follow her.
“Clip, cop: clip, clop!” her hooves are squeaking, before me.
“Wait! This is the Pony, you were speaking of?” I inquire.
“Yes, exactly!” she points out.
I look down at the floor, watching myself. I find the hooves, just as I had been expected. Shiny hooves, glossy and beautiful. The only thing I am missing, is the tail. I have no tail.
Wait, I also have no horn; like the one my friend, Sweetie belle has on her forehead.
Of course, neither do I have wings.
Then again, I have no hands, just the four hooves.
Author's Note
Previous Chapter    
An Episode, With Rarity in the Boutique (https://www.fimfiction.net/story/451045/2/filly-fetish-fashion/an-episode-with-rarity-in-the-boutique-2)
Next Chapter  Surprise:

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                        Surprise: 4                        
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Surprise: 4
Sweetie Belle opens the door and steps in, then I enter the room a mere step behind.
“Clip, clop; clip, clop!” I hear my hooves, in time with hers.
“Okay, time for the treat!” she offers.
“The Treat?” I exclaim; “I always love a treat!” I continue.
“I know, it is almost like going to the Spa!” she responds.
“I guess we could go to the Spa, seeing Aloe and Lotus some day!” I respond.
“Yes, we could; but right now, I am handling your treat!” she points out.
“By all means, please do!” I respond.
“Good, because I have been looking forwards to this!” she points out, as she is opening the doors to the second closet.
“Drip, drop; drip, drop!” she mumbles; “Just focus on how this feels!” she explains.
“Drip, drop; drip, drop!” she mumbles.
As she said Drip, I feel my hooves stick to the floor, and as she said Drop, I feel the suction letting go. Each word coming with the same reaction. I feel the change, each time.
“Drip, drop; drip, drop!” I ponder; feeling the suction coming on and of, on and off.
Slowly, I feel the effect, feeling how it comes on and of. With each time, I get a better grip of it, and I am closer to controlling it. After a few more tries, I feel the suction taking hold, then letting go. I control the suction, at least, as good as I could. If only I knew, she has a means to take the control from me.
“Hold on, to it; you will enjoy, what I have prepared for you!” she declares.
“Drip, drip, drip!” she exclaims, as she is extracting the first tube of gel.
“Membrane gel” the label reads.
Since her horn is lit, she uncaps the tube, levitating gel towards my rump, splashing it onto my flesh. I feel the gel spreading out, slowly pushing in. The clear, cool gel slipping in, further and further. For a moment, I feel the gel spreading further and further in. Though I can feel it, only so far in.
I find myself relaxed, by the contact of the gel she is applying. Little by little, I lose the control of the muscles touched by this clear gel. Just as the gel had reached, as far in as she had had in mind; I have no control of the orifice, now limp and squishy.
“Oh, oh; ooh!” I mouth, in reaction; “That does feel strange!” I continue.
“You will get used to it, soon enough; though I did take great care, applying the temporary gel!” she explains.
“Oh, okay!” I respond, trying to ignore the strange sensation and the worries that comes with it.
Temporary, in this case; means that I will revert once the suit comes off, and I will regain full control. Though it means, this will change back; if and when I put this suit back on, when I go to Sweetie Belle again.
Will I truly get used to this, I will know only if and when that does happen. For now, I trust her; I take her word, believing what she had just told me.
Since she had finished applying the gel to my anal entrance, she moves up and starts to apply it to my orchid. I feel the effect of the gel spreading out.
After a minute, I feel my mound and orchid already completely relaxed; the effect spreading all the way into my womb. Every inch, from the mound and all the way through my womb soon relaxing, to the point I have no control of the muscles around in there.
Once she had finished with my orchid, she continues to move up to my belly button. I feel the gel spreading inwards, to the innermost edge inside of my belly button.
“Uh, why?” I inquire.
“Because it is an orifice, and I can play with it!” she points out.
“How does that work?” I inquire, somewhat nervously.
“This may be a small orifice, but it does hold huge potential; if one knows how to harvest it, for the right purpose!” she points out.
“By the way, this is also the half-way point!” she explains.
With that, she starts to caress my nipples, applying the gel with deliberate care.
“That feels good, for now, at least!” I respond, as I feel the tips of her fingers caressing my nipples.
“This may be a small detail; but it is important and does feel wondrous, if I may say so myself!” she points out, giggling.
My nipples are swelling, during the process; and she does take the time, to coat the areolas as well. I have no idea, as to why; but for now, I still do enjoy the effects under her care. It is almost, as if she had indeed taken me to the Spa; and having Aloe or Lotus treating me.
“One final detail, before I can complete this step of your treatment!” she points out, as she is producing the oral tube.
“Oh, okay!” I respond.
“Open up, wide!” she instructs me, and I try my best to comply.
For just a moment, I can see the clear silicon tube; before she is inserting it, into my mouth. It is slippery and almost feels wet to the touch.
“Soft, and squishy!” I realize, as she continues to push the tube further and further down my throat.
“Almost done!” she enlightens me, just an inch from my lips.
“Oh, oh! That is strange, but it never triggered any awkward reflex!” I continue.
“How does that feel?” she inquires.
“Strange! I barely feel it, at all!” I respond; “Other than when I try to say something!” I add.
“Exactly!” she responds, distracting me with a flourish of her right hand, as she picks up the tube of gel.
With that, she starts to apply the gel to my lips, before she continues to spread the gel into my mouth. From there, she coats my tongue and continues down my throat. I feel my muscles relaxing and permits me to stretch enough, for her to reach all the way to the very edge of the newly inserted tube.
While my lips are completely relaxed, to the point I have no control of the muscles; I feel this effect slowly spreading downwards. A moment later, I have lost all control, all the way down the tube in my throat.
Since she is done with the first gel, she produces the next rube of gel.
“Plot gel” the label reads.
“Okay! This looks promising, whatever this could possibly be!” I ponder.
Once she uncapped the tube, she is applying the gel to my rump; slowly spreading it, working it in. I feel myself going stiff and hard, as the gel works its wonders. The gel, slowly turning my rump into hard rubber; leaving me tight as a drum, while still maintaining the elasticity of the membrane gel. This effect may be only an inch deep, but it reaches all the way in, to the very edge of the membrane.
She pulls the hand out, before she is starting anew; applying the gel to my orchid, spreading the effect with great care. As my orchid turns into rubber, she continues further and further in; reaching the womb and pushing all the way in. She only pulls back and finish the job, coating my mound. A moment later, my orchid is vulcanized into rubber.
“Touch it!” she instructs me.
Without a thought, I lift up my right fore-hoof and touch myself; feeling the hard rubber under-hoof.
“Drip, drop!” she pronounces; making me feel the effect of the suction grabbing hold of the rubber, that is my mound and orchid.
“Ooh, ooh!” escapes my lips; “That feels good, as strange as it may be!” I realize.
“I have your attention!” she proclaims; “Undivided!” she continues.
I just nod, unable to put words to the experience.
While I am distracted, she is applying the gel to my swelling nipples. I feel her fingers caressing the hard rubber that is what my nipples are becoming. I realize, she is exaggerating this step; just in order to distract me, from what she is about to do.
She starts to apply the gel to my lips, almost as if this had been lip-gloss. My lips, caught in the moment of an excited grin; maintaining the smile, throughout the event she had planned for me.
The gel soon starts to spread, further and further into my mouth. She coats my tongue and continues down my throat, to the very end of the tube she had inserted into my mouth.
On the way out, she is pulling my tongue out, as far as she could, only letting go a minute later. Why? How would this affect me, my tongue; after I have pulled the suit of and extracted the tube from my mouth? I have no idea.
“Mound gel” the label of the next tube reads.
I feel her fingers, as she is applying the gel onto my mound; followed by the effect, as my mound swells and droop in the direction she had in mind.
“Elastic gel” the next label reads.
As expected, the gel is spread into my belly button. She is teasing me, by stretching and pushing the entire hoof inside.
“Belly jelly” he label of the next gel reads.
She spreads the gel generously over my belly, carefully working it in and spreads its effect.
“Nipple gel” the next label reads.
Obviously this goes to cover my nipples. My nipples expand farther, as they grow longer. She certainly does not miss an opportunity to treat or tease me. The gel is enabling my nipples, to perform; everything, she could imagine them good for.
“Since you are here over the week-end, I should give you the most fun I could manage!” she points out.
“Yes, please!” I ponder, nodding ascent.
“Muzzle gel” the label of the next tube reads.
“Okay, that is obvious!” I realize; “But, why do I need a muzzle?” I continue.
While she is making the effort, to avoid my lips; she manages to coat my nose, chin and cheeks. All the skin, of the lower half of my face. In the process, she gives me the muzzle the gel had promised; only two inches long, but a muzzle nonetheless. As it turns out, my new muzzle is matching the style of the suit I am wearing. The clear gel does not alter the colour of my skin, which makes it a bit weird, to me. Though I guess, altering the hue could have been even more weird in different ways.
“How long will the muzzle remain?” I ponder.
“Equine wet lubrication” the label of the next tube reads.
“Since I am a pony, and lubrication is supposed to be wet; that does make sense, to me!” I ponder.
Once she had presented the tube for me to read, and she knows I understand what she had in mind; she starts to apply this lubricating gel to my rump. The gel is indeed lubricating my rump, and it does make me feel wet; only then I notice just how sensitive it is making me, before I realize it is also making me exceedingly excitable.
“Oooh, ooh!” I ponder, as she is spreading the gel all the way into my anal orifice.
“Little to no friction!” she points out; “Just the way we want it!” she continues, after a short pause; ”I certainly do not want you to be sore, or hurt in the process!” she concludes.
I just nod, with each statement, agreeing to what she is saying. Though I am worried, just how long is she going to play with me?
A mere moment later, while I am still considering what she had just said; she starts to apply the gel to my orchid. I feel the wetness slip further and further in, as she spreads the gel all the way to the bottom of my womb. It feels, as if she had flooded me with the highly viscous lubrication gel. I can't deny it, but can't see as much as a single drop falling to the floor between my hind legs.
“See? No smear?” she proclaims, as she had finished and extracted the hoof from inside.
She takes several minutes, lubricating my belly button. As I enjoy her tough, she makes absolutely certain the gel is coating everything; while she is teasing me, on purpose. I just could not complain, right now. Maybe she had made me feel too good, for complaints?
Once she is done with my belly button, she moves up to my now large nipples; coating them with the gel, taking her time. She really does put the effort in, to make certain; I am going to enjoy this, I had figured.
While I am still able to move around, as I please; she had made me open, to her every suggestion. How could one reject, what she is about to give me?
Of course, there is one more orifice to lubricate; my mouth is still dry, and feels left out.
She wastes little to no time, moving on, lubricating my lips. I feel the lubrication slipping in between my lips and into my mouth. The entire mouth soon coated and my tongue slippery, before the gel slides down my throat.
She gives me a moment, to enjoy the situation and reflect upon what she had already given me; before she is presenting me with the anal plug. The plug is quite large, and black matching the suit. She dips the plug in a gel intended to lubricate it.
“Clear plug-lubrication” its label reads.
“Why does the plug requite a special, individual lubrication? After all the effort, she put into lubricating my every orifice?” I ponder.
While I had been relaxing, the contact is instinctively contracting me on contact. I feel myself contract more and more, as she is pushing the plug into my anal cavity. The plug plops, with a distinct pinch; riveting itself into me, making me help it stay in place.
“There! You are perfectly and utterly incapable of climax, for as long as the plug is inside!” she enlightens me.
I sense gleeful excitement in her voice, as she declares this irrefutable fact, to me.
While this may have been the smallest plug, it is also the largest I could have taken in. It is filling me to the brim, even considering just how elastic I am with the work she had put in for me. This is but the first plug, she inserted into me, but it is giving me a hint, where she is going.
I feel her rubbing the base of the plug, with the tip of her right fore-hoof. She grabs my rump, with both her fore-hooves; standing behind me, then licking my rump and the base of the plug. Teasing me, with what she could be doing to me, and for me. Of course, this is merely a tease.
She lets go, before she presents me with the vaginal plug; dipping it into the gel, before she is inserting it. I feel my tight, stiff petals stretching; in order for me to swallow this new plug, as it is sliding inside, into my orchid. Inch by inch, it is slipping in, reminding me of the previous plug inserted.
She licks the base of the vaginal plug, making me shiver and shake. I am incapable of containing myself, or holding back as she is teasing me. This is but a brief demonstration; explaining to me, she owns me.
The short tease, leaving me excited and expecting more. While she steps back, the excitement refuses to let go.
“There! Just a tick!” she points out; “And you are incapable of shaking it of, waiting for me to continue!” she continues.
I manage to nod my head, in confirmation. She could leave me like this, for minute or an hour, the excitement will remain undiminished. Each tease, only building up my excitement a bit more.
“Drip, drip, drip; drip, drip, drip!” she mumbles, making my suction strengthen with each pronunciation of the word.
I feel the effect she is having upon me, incapable of resistance.
She is teasing me; but everything she does now, only builds up my excitement further.
As she is producing a five inch leach-plug, she is presenting it to me; slipping it into the lubrication, before she is moving it up to me. I feel the tip of the lubricated plug touch the lips of my belly button. As expected, I find myself contracting around it. Just a touch, and it is holding me in an iron-grip I can't refuse. I feel the tip of the plug slide in, inside the orifice. Inch by inch, she is slowly pushing it further and further in. The plug, slowly but undenyingly stretching me; as it is pushed, all the way in.
I feel a distinct pinch, as the plug plops and is riveted into place. She is teasing me, by pushing farther; before she is giving the plug a few tentative tugs, in order to demonstrate the point. Each tug, stretching the skin of my belly. It feels, as if my skin is the skin of a drum; just made out of highly elastic rubber.
“Ooh, oooh!” I ponder, in time with each tug she is subjecting the plug to.
As she is letting go of the plug, she produces a pair of nipple orbs. Clear, stiff silicon. As I look at the orbs, she levitates them towards my nipples, pushing them into place; before she is squeezing the orbs, producing a vacuum before she lets go of them.
“Oh, oh, oh!” I ponder, as it sinks in.
She is presenting me with a muzzle-tube, carefully slipping it in between my lips. I feel the tube slide in as I am contracting around it. Just as I am contracting, the tube is pushing out.
She giggles, amused and excited. I can but imagine; that she is loving every instant, just as much as I had enjoyed her treat. Could I deny her? Of course, this is reminding her, of when she herself had been introduced to what she is giving me now.
She puts an inch thick, three inches wide black rubber collar on my neck.
“Pet” reads the engraving on the front of the collar.
“Your right fore-hoof!” she pronounces, as she is liberating the hoof.
She is applying a clear suction-cup gel on the hoof, before she is permitting me to place the hoof onto the floor.
“Your left fore-hoof!” she pronounces, as she is liberating the hoof.
She is applying a clear suction-cup gel on the hoof, before she is permitting me to place the hoof onto the floor.
“Your right rear-hoof!” she pronounces, as she is liberating the hoof.
She is applying a clear suction-cup gel on the hoof, before she is permitting me to place the hoof onto the floor.
“Your left rear-hoof!” she pronounces, as she is liberating the hoof.
She is applying a clear suction-cup gel on the hoof, before she is permitting me to place the hoof onto the floor.
The applied gel is increasing my suction with an entire order of magnitude. I do not know, but I guess I am about to find out.
Now she is producing the Ruby hoof-polish, applying it onto my hooves in the same order as she applied the suction-cup gel. I can see her applying the polish, the same way she would have painted my nails. The polish grows glossier and glossier as it is curing. Once cured, my hooves are rock-hard and highly adamant. I can no longer feel the touch as she is finished.
She is lifting my hooves, right and left, fore and rear; applying the second coating of suction-cup gel. The suction increases, by another order in the process.
“Careful, now!” she offers, as she is placing a set of shoes before me, indicating for me to put them on.
I nod, as I step forwards; putting them on, one at the time.
“Clip, clop; clip, clop!” I hear the noise of my hooves as I am moving over the floor in the room.
Once I had put the shoes on, she gives my hooves a third and final coating of suction-cup gel.
She picks up the leach in her mouth and steps out of the room. Obediently, I follow her. She is closing the door behind me and continues to the flight of stairs. I follow her down the stairs and to the next flight of stairs on the other side of the cottage. She leads me up the flight of stairs and opens the door to the last room on the promenade. I follow her inside as she had opened the door, and she is closing it behind me.
The floor in this room is coated with three inch thick, clear silicon matching my hooves. Otherwise, this room is basically identical to the room I had just left. I imagine the room had been prepared for this activity.
Not only is the silicon coating thicker, than in the previous room on the other side; it is also softer and quite squishy. So long as it feels good, under-hoof; I am not about to complain, about this. Why? It does feel good to trot over the floor.
She is leading me around, in the room. After a while, I end up in the middle of the room; facing the door, standing directly under the window. Curious, but it does not bother me.
“Drip, drop!” she exclaims.
I feel the suction under-hoof grabbing hold of the floor, as she said Drip; and feel it let go, as she pronounces the word Drop. Only this time, it is much faster and stronger than it had been the first time on the other side.
“Watch this, please!” she exclaims, in obvious excitement.
She produces a new tube of gel.
“Bondage, Type I” reads the label.
“Curious, what could that possibly be fore?” I ponder.
As I watch her applying the gel onto my right fore-hoof, from the inner to the outer edge, I understand what she had in mind. As the gel touches the rim between my hoof and the floor, I can clearly see my hoof fusing to the floor; almost as if she had erased the line in a drawing.
She continues, by applying the gel to my left fore-hoof; with exactly the same effect. Then I bend my neck to follow her, as she continues with my right and left rear hooves, in turn.
Once she had applied this bondage-gel to my hooves; she takes the opportunity given to her, lapping at my vaginal plug. I feel the excitement increasing, distracting me.
“Oooh, hot!” I realize; “I certainly do love this!” I continue.
The tease only lasts for a mere moment, but the effect upon me is still irrefutable and quite strong. She clearly knows what she is doing, and enjoys doing it to me. It is not the first time she is delivering the treat, to a close friend of hers either.
Since she had slipped the bondage-gel aside, once she had trapped all my hooves on the floor; she is now producing the second tube.
“Bondage, Type II” reads the label.
She applies the second phase of the treatment, to each of my four hooves in turn. Is this why she had opted for the equine style hooves? Why she chose the full on Pony, in place of the Anthropomorphic Pony? I still do not know, and she just does not say. Not yet. Maybe later.
As she is applying the gel, I notice my hooves sinking down slightly, as the coating of the floor spread up to an inch up each hoof. Had I not been distracted by the excitement she incurred upon me, I should have been scared. Now I am just excited, expectant of what she will do to me, next.
After she had teased me, by lapping at the vaginal plug for a minute; she produces a third tube.
“Bondage, Type III” reads the label.
Hard as my hooves still are, I still can't feel the gel being applied. The third phase is pulling my hooves in farther than before, farther than I had dared to hope or even imagine. Now I can clearly see the silicon coating the entire hoof.
Is this why she chose this squishy silicon, and why she had a thicker coating? I still do not know, and she refused to say. No explanation is forthcoming. She merely direct my moves, indicating what she wants me to do; before she does, what she had intended to do all along. Maybe that is part of the excitement? Not knowing what she is about to do? Only feeling the touch, as she is applying the next treat.
This time, however; she is affording me the remainder of the ten minutes required for me to have my orgasm. It may be slow and hesitant, but it is certainly there. I could not deny it, and she knows it.
Once she had forced me to experience the first orgasm, I am feeling very hot and excited. She produces a fourth tube of gel.
“Bondage, Industrial grade” reads the label.
As she is applying this gel, I can see the silicon under-hoof slowly turning a light pink, even if it is not opaque. My hooves, now mixed in with just a little of the floor coating silicon, as well. I am truly stuck, even if I am too excited for this fact to sink in.
“Squishy gel” the label of the tube reads.
“This should be plenty of fun!” she exclaims, as she is applying a coat of the gel all over my face, from the tip of my muzzle and all the way to my hair.
“Squishy, squishy!” she proclaims, giggling all the while.
“One small detail, before I send you off!” she explains; as she is producing the final gel, for my personal benefit and joy.
“Bondage, Surgical grade” reads the label.
Once more, she is applying bondage gel, to the rims of my hooves. Right and left, fore and rear. I see the floor slowly turning opaque, and my hooves slowly mixing up with the previously clear silicon. Of course; that means that my hooves and the floor had finally fused, completely. I am now part of the room.
As my hooves had finally fused with the floor completely, she moves up to me from behind, lapping away at the plug. As she performs the magic, I am pushed from orgasm, to orgasm. As I peak, she is taking a step back; observing me, studying the effects her work is imposing upon me.
“My work here is done, I will see you in twenty-four hours!” she merely informs me.
With that, she opens the door and steps out, closing the door behind herself, before she trots off, to do what she had in mind to spend the day on. I am alone, clearly orgasmic and completely distracted from everything.
My heart pounding hard, raising; my breath hard and fast.

//-------------------------------------------------------//
                A Sweet, Sweet Sweetie : 5                 
//-------------------------------------------------------//
A Sweet, Sweet Sweetie : 5
”She will be content, simmering in her own juices!” I ponder, remembering my very first time in the suit I am wearing.
Since I had concluded the treat, I am done here. I can do nothing for her, in her present state. Though I could make myself a cup of tea, when she is stuck in the orgasmic state, coming over and over. Of course, I will have to release her; granting her that sweet climax, eventually.
While I don't know exactly how long it is safe for her, but I had promised her the twenty-four hours. A promise is a promise, and as Pinkie Pie would have told you, one can not break a promise, it is the fastest way of losing a friend. I have no intent, losing her as my friend. Why? I love her as my friend, and I love sharing this experience with her.
I open the door; closing it behind, me as I had walked out of the room. I continue to the stairs and down the flight to the floor of the cottage.
“A cup of tea, would be quite nice!” I ponder, as I make the water boil.
I place the tea in the cup and poor water in as it had started to boil. Once the tea is prepared, I pull the leaves out of the cup. There, that should do it.
Sitting down, I levitate the cup to my lips, taking my first sip. The hot beverage is just right, lovely. I lean back and close my eyes; enjoying myself, as I take another sip of the tea.
I take my time; enjoying the tea, I had just prepared for myself. One sip at the time. Only pouring more water in the cup, watching the tea in the boiling water. Time slowly is seeping out, as I enjoy myself; sitting with my cup of tea.
“I could afford myself a cup of tea, while she is having all the fun upstairs!” I ponder, knowing just how good it is in that suit.
I am wearing my own suit, identical; made to fit me, as if painted on. Why bother with anything less? My sister knows, how to craft a suit just right.
“Rarity!”I ponder, as I see her before me; crafting yet another suit.
She really does love crafting these suits, for the joy of me smiling. Everyone love her craft, considering the effort that goes into making them. Anything, just so long as the intended owner enjoys wearing it. For another to be able to look good, beautiful and dress up smart. Anyone should be able to afford fashion, she argues. Even if she can't charge everyone the full cost of material and work put into it.
Maybe the well-to-do can finance the once who can't quite afford the dress or suit? Not my problem, of course; but it makes her happy, to see the next customer walk out wearing the smile connected to the suit she crafted.
Since I had promised my friend this week-end; I stay indoors, at my own home. No problem, I have everything I need right here. All the tea I can drink, and all the tea she could possibly drink too.
I push the chair back, before I raise to my hooves and turn towards the fridge. I open the door and extract a large bowl of vegetable, picking up a portion on my plate.
Once the plate had landed on the table, I pick up my salad-fork and return to my chair. As I sit down, I stab the vegetables and enter the fork into my mouth. Chewing.
I stab the vegetables once more, before I insert the fork into my mouth. I slowly chew on the delicious vegetables of my salad, enjoying myself royally.
Fork-full by fork-full, I continue to enjoy the meal.
My friend is busy, with her orgasms; she is not interested in the salad, even if I had offered her a plate right now. I had given her the treat, so I could afford myself a meal. I am almost jealous of her, almost; but I had promised her this; I could not turn back, and she could offer me the same another tomorrow.
I may not be the Element of Generosity, that is my sister Rarity; but she has clearly rubbed of on me, I can still enjoy to be generous towards my friends. I am even enjoying, to be generous to perfect strangers. The problem, is if the one is not worthy of my generosity.
At least, in Ponyville, these are few and very far between. Even Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon has grown up. Maybe I managed to teach them something good?
Well, there are always the once like Pinkie Pie and Ditsy Doo, always sheering you up when you need it. I guess some of us are like that. But none, like Pinkie Pie. It seems to be her life's call, being the Element of Laughter and all that. But still.
I had lost myself in thought, as I had finished the salad. Though I could afford it.
Once I had followed the thought to the end, I collected myself and rise of my hooves. Now I trot around the house. Watering a few potted plants, dusting off a few shelves. Keeping myself busy, as the time slips out.
I really do not have all that much, I need to do today. In the end, I trot back to my room and go to bed. I manage to fall asleep, quite easily. Even with this suit on.
In the morning, I slip out of bed and make the bed neatly. I could not quite stand, leaving the bed undone and messy. I trot out of the room, back to the kitchen.
Making myself breakfast; brewing tea and pouring up salad. I chew on the salad, as I sip on my tea.
I am waiting for the hours to go by. I had promised her the full twenty four hours. I will stand by the promise.
“Just one hour left!” I ponder, as I trot up the flight of stairs.
“I guess I could afford her a surprise tease!” I mumble, to myself.
Knowing my friend would not hear it, no matter how loud I had been yelling right now. She is still orgasmic, but should be feeling quite spent when I release her.
I open the door and step right into the room, closing the door behind myself as I had cleared the threshold. The squishy floor feels comfortable under-hoof as I continue into the room.
Now I produce a tube of gel, intended for this purpose; applying the clear gel along the rim of her anal plug, leaving it there for the purpose of my intended tease.
I look at her, as I watch the seconds flow by me. Second by second ticking; as I am relaxing and waiting for her, to be ready to extract. I permit a few more seconds, before I grab hold of the plug; affording it a few tentative tugs, before I slowly but certainly pull it out of her orifice. Slowly does it. Both for the tease, and for the effect.
Once the plug has slipped out of her, it loses its grip and she experiences the long overdue climax in spectacular strength. Just at the instant of climax, her previously glazed over eyes regain their former clarity as she wakes up from her orgasmic state.
Considering just how long she had been up, and how much energy it had drained from her; she collapses into an unconscious state, and her body slumps down.
As she stands unconscious; I extract the oral tube from her muzzle, the orbs from her nipples, the plug from her belly button and finally the vaginal plug. With that, she is released from the effect the plugs held over her.
Since her hooves still are fused to the floor, I can't disrobe her, or extract her from within the suit she had slipped into the day before.
I light up my horn, focusing on the spell to break the gel's effect on her hooves. As I have cast the spell; I focus on peeling back the effect of one layer of gel at the time.
I watch the floor grow clear and peel back from her hooves and finally let go of her hooves entirely.
Since she is unconscious, she is not aware of what I do. I just want to permit her to sleep in a bed, without the suit on.
I carry her over to the bed room, leaving her on the bed. Her still unconscious form is fast asleep. While I know she will not wake up, I am gentle about it not to disturb her. I want her to have the best experience, in order to give her the best effect possible from my treat.
“Should I remind her, of the treat when she wakes up?” I ponder.
While unconscious, her breathing and heart-rate is still through the roof. This had indeed been a challenging experience and exercise. Of course, I knew that from my own experience.
As she is lying on her bed, I pull her gloves off of her arms, leaving the skin bare. From there, I continue; pulling the stockings off of her and watch as her hands and feet slide out from within the black silicon. Curiously enough, her nails are red, like the ruby I had applied to her hooves.
Finally, I slip the collar off of her neck, before I pull her out of the suit; leaving her stark naked on the bed. I slip a pair of white cotton panties on, for her, pulling the panties up to a comfortable fit for her. Before I slip her in under the quilt, I choose a matching white cotton top for her. Once the top is on, she is ready for the night. Even if the sun is still high on the sky.
Before it is too late to remind her, and her body; I apply a wet lip-gloss to her lips, and re-insert the now leach-less plug into her belly button. I leave the plug in place, for now.
Since I have given her everything, I fold the rest of the quilt over her body; leaving her to rest and slumber, for as long as she needs to recuperate.
I watch her sleep, for a few minutes; before I leave her room and close the door behind me.

//-------------------------------------------------------//
                        Re Treat: 6                        
//-------------------------------------------------------//
Re Treat: 6
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.