The Red Crop

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Summary

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“The Chrysalis’ Dungeon” the sign reads, as I am approaching the building.

The street is well lit, and the buildings look fairly classy; this would be boding well, for the establishment I am about to enter. I had been initiated, into the scene as it were; a friend had recommended this dungeon to me. Should I have said no, or turned away now?

It is a classical, industrial building of glass and steel. The lobby looks open, inviting. I can already see, what appears to be the white marble the floor had been laid with.

“Fancy!” I breathe, as I lay eyes on the floor inside the lobby I am about to enter.

“Sliding doors?” I ponder, when I do not see any regular doors I could open manually.

As I finally reach the lobby, I notice the twin-doors slide up to the right and left; soundlessly, as if the sound of a door opening could set off a bomb.

“These windows are clean!” I ponder; as I barely notice the windows, other than the reflected light.

Naturally, everything in the lobby is held to the same standard; spotless. The materials used, does support this standard; as if it had been taken into account, when the building was initially sketched up. But alas, why white marble?

I step inside, and the doors close behind me; just as quietly, as when they had slipped out of the way for me to enter.

The desk, behind which a girl is sitting; is in the style of the building. Only the logo, etched with Gold, Silver and Cobalt filigree is breaking the clear glass; though it is in fact crystal-clear Sapphire in place of glass. She does have a keyboard, on the top of the desk, for her to enter commands and customers’ requests and entrances.

The girl herself is smiling, generously in a welcoming expression. She wears a tight, black, glistering top. At first; I had thought it to be Leather or possibly Rubber, but this is a high grade Silicone that will not wear or wilt like either leather or rubber would have. The top is containing her B cup bust orbs perfectly. Just so tight, the nipples are showing, quite clearly. She is also wearing a matching skirt and panties, the latter which I can not see from where I approach her.

Her lips, painted with metallic bloody red Silicone matching her ensemble. She also wears a matching eye-shadow and mascara matching her ensemble.

As she is smiling at me, I notice her unexpectedly large; bright, glittering sapphire blue eyes.

She is wearing a pair of full-length gloves; matching the ensemble, but crystal clear. Her nails are inch-long, metallic electric blue; starting from just after the final joint of the fingers, goes all the way out and is ending in oval tips.

Had I looked down, I would have seen her black, full-length stockings; though in place of her perfectly feminine, diminutive feet, she had what appears to be more equine hooves.

If nothing had set me off before; she does have a very high-pitched voice and an over the top enthusiastic manner to her. Maybe her voice came off, as a bit too girly for her appearance and position?

“Greetings, how may I serve you?” she chimes, enthusiastically.

“Greetings!” I respond; “I was looking for a Mistress!” I add.

“Oh, yes; a Mistress, but of course!” she responds, as if it had been the only possible option.

“Why does she give me the impression, one could not exist, without a Mistress?” I ponder, somewhat perplexed.

“Place your hand on the desk, please; palm down and then spread your fingers as wide as possible!” she instructs me, after a mere moment’s pause.

“Oh, okay!” I respond; as I extend my right hand, and place the palm onto the desk.

The surface of the desk is surprisingly warm and welcoming. I spread my fingers, and feel the somewhat rubbery surface almost swallowing the hand. Almost; it is merely a sensation, I had.

“There; Perfect, Miss!” she utters.

“Take the door; on my right, please!” she points out, indicating the direction; “Since you are new, you would like to make yourself presentable, for the Mistress!” she then explains.

“The door to your right!” I echo; “Thank you!” I continue, as I follow her indication, walking towards the door.

Just like before, this is a pair of sliding doors. Though the wall behind her is laid with pink cherry-wood panels, for that special and classy appearance. Even if there is stainless steel behind it. No effort spared, here.

“Almost, as if money was no object to them?” I realize.

“The Mistress will be quite pleased, this girl is going to be perfect!” the girl behind the desk ponders.

Behind the sliding doors, I find myself stepping into a small room. A waiting-room, from what I could make out.

“No leather to be seen, anywhere!” I ponder; “But they stick with the style I have seen them present me with!” I continue.

I have three additional doors, identical to the one I had just went through; each, on the middle of the respective wall. The walls, laid with pink cherry-wood panels; which seems to be the style they had chosen, for the establishment. Maybe, I should not be complaining?

Each of the seats, sporting a large cushion; not with leather, but the same black silicon as her suit. As I sit down, intent on waiting for my appointment; I feel the warmth, and the intimate hugging sensation of the cushion on which I am sitting. As I lean back, I feel the cushion, identical to the one I am sitting on. I sense a squishy, highly viscous gel fluid in the cushion itself.

“Of course, this is my first impression; they naturally need me to feel welcome, into a stylish environment!” I ponder; “Thus they need to make this look as an exclusive quality leather sofa!” I continue.

The door on the right slides open, soundlessly; and a girl in a suit identical to the lobbyist girl is stepping into the room.

“Greetings, and welcome!” she coos; “I am here to tend to your initial introduction!” she continues.

“Greetings!” I respond; “Thank you!” I add.

“Right this way, please!” she chimes, her voice surprisingly similar to the girl I had just left behind the door I had just walked through.

The door is sliding up, and she is leading me into the room. I notice the ceiling had been coated with a mate Silicone; while leaving the pin-prick LED lights in a pattern reminiscent of a night-sky above me. The light is easily illuminating the room.

“I guess, this is part of the style!” I consider.

“Why does every girl in here sound, as if she tried to make a Pinkie Pie-impression?” I ponder, as I realize the striking similarity.

The most obvious difference, they are not the element of Laughter; they do not make me exuberant, with an urge to laugh or even giggle. The scenery is more akin to that of a Spa, such as Aloe and Lotus would have been running. Though none of them, or their general inventory is anywhere to be seen. Anywhere.

There is no sofa in this room. Though she does have a desk on the right side of the door. Furthermore, there is what is to pass for a comfortable seat with a reclinable back-rest and armrests. A small table is also attached to the seat. Behind the table, she does have a chair, on which she is going to sit; as she is tending to me. Manicure and make-up, most likely.

“Have a seat, please; and I will be tending to you shortly!” she coos.

“This girl is a bit over-animated and excited around me!” I ponder; “But at least, she is nice and pleasant to be around!” I continue.

“Thank you!” I respond, as I move over towards the indicated seat.

“Curious; firm, yet squishy!” I realize; as I am sitting down, as I had been instructed to.

While the armrests had been cool to the touch, prior to my entry into the room; now I feel the seat’s cushions slowly warming up, but never hotter than I could feel comfortable with. To the point, I almost forget the cushions even being there.

“Interesting armrests!” I ponder; "As if they had been designed, for holding my hands perfectly in line?” I realize.

“Lean back, and relax; please, while I am tending to you!” she now coos.

“Okay, thank you!” I respond; “She feels eagerly excited, and familiar in my presence!” I ponder.

After a moment, I feel a hint of moisture under the palm of my hands, but think nothing of it. Why? I imagine it is just a hint of nervousness. I pretend it is natural, mainly due to this being my first time here. Besides, I have never had anyone perform a manicure on me, or applied make-up on me before.

“If only she knew!” the girl ponders; “She will not be able to pull her hands away now!” she continues.

“While it had been intended for other things in the past, now I use it; to make sure I can give her the highest precision, as I paint her nails!” she concludes.

“Fingers spread, nice and evenly!” she mumbles to herself; “There, ready for the manicure?” she inquires.

“Yes!” I respond.

“She can only find out, just how stuck she is, if she attempts to pull out now!” she mumbles, under her breath inaudibly, then giggles for a moment; before she returns, to what she had been doing.

“Good, because I am going to apply the nail-polish first!” she chimes.

She is sitting down on a fairly small chair, before my right hand. The vial of polish clearly standing on the table before me. Just a clear base-coat. Nothing fancy looking.

I notice her uncapping the small vial, and I get a whiff of the odour of the polish. She is starting to paint the thumb-nail, from center and top of the nail, slowly drawing it all the way down to the very tip of the nail. From there; she repeats the action right and left, right and left. The nail is slightly more shiny, than it had been; but otherwise, there is nothing I am picking up on.

Now she is continuing to polish nail by nail, all the way down to my pinkie-finger’s nail.

I notice, how my seat is turning, so that she is now facing my left hand. She continues the process, polishing the nails of my left hand.

While she is capping the vial, the seat turns back to the original position and she is once more facing my right hand. She uncaps an identical looking vial of polish.

“There, I hope it was not too uncomfortable for you!” she coos.

Once the vial had been uncapped, she sets off, polishing my nails one at the time; from the thumb to the pinkie finger, just as she had done once before. She only pauses, to make my seat turn; to permit her to work my left hand without interruption.

With the right and left hands finger-nails polished; she cap the vial and make me turn back, so she is facing my right hand. I had not noticed it, at first; but my nails are slowly changing to a polished look, as if they had been filed all the way down to the edge of the respective finger.

As she is uncapping the third vial, she is facing my right hand again, my nails perfectly filed down and even. She applies the gel-polish to each nail in turn; from thumb to pinkie finger, right and left hand. Only stopping to cap one vial, then uncapping the next.

“Whoa?” I exclaim, as I notice my nails grow out and cover more of the tips of my fingers.

“Exactly!” she exclaims; “Beautiful, isn’t it?” she inquires.

"I never pictured my nails quite like this, but I can’t complain; it truly is beautiful now, perfect in every possible way!” I respond.

My nails are perfectly, crystal-clear; almost as if they had been plastic extensions of my real, natural nails. The base of each nail, is semi-square; starting just after the joint of the respective nail and flows out to the side of each finger.

“Wait; inch-long and oval tips?” I exclaim.

“Delicious, isn’t it?” she inquires, as she is examining my face.

“Well, yes; but how did you possibly manage this, with just nail-polish?” I respond.

“Excellent, excellent!” she ponders; “If this had been of-the-shelf nail-polish, it had been impossible!” she responds; “This is a very special gel-polish that evens out the nails, before it makes them grow out to the desired shape!” she merely points out, squealing in delight.

“I took the liberty, of choosing the oval shape; since you did not seem the square type, I hope you don’t mind!” she adds.

“I just never pictured myself with long nails, mainly because I did not take the time to maintain them like this!” I respond; “Since my nails are long, I guess the oval tips are more me, than the squares could have been!” I then add, almost as an afterthought.

“I know, that is how all girls react; when they are presented, with what I can do for you!” she coos, in obvious delight.

“If my nails revert to what they were before, I can forget all about this; otherwise, I will have some problems explaining how and why I did have my nails done in the first place!” I ponder, as I realize what she had already done with my nails.

“Ruby, or Sapphire?” the girl ponders, as she is selecting the lacquer for my nails.

“I think you are the Ruby kind of girl!” she chimes, as she is picking the red lacquer.

At first, it is looking as if it is metallic bloody red, but this is before she had finally applied it to my nails. Just like before, she is applying the lacquer to each nail in turn; from the thumb to the pinkie-finger and right and left hand in turn.

Maybe the polish she had applied, had never been a typical Acetone-base product in the first place; but had been intended to saturate the nail and cure from within, creating the intended effect permanently. Either way, the nails are looking spectacular, right now. Even if I may change my mind, later as I am to explain it to my friends.

Little by little, I notice how the nails are slowly turning red; as they turn into Ruby, and thus is gaining the rich red hue that is coming with it. Naturally, my nails are becoming, just as hard as the Ruby as well. I guess the first I notice, is just how high the finish is, as the surface is glistering in the light of the room.

She had applied a glossy top-coat, over the colour lacquer of Ruby; only to apply the final finish of the sealing gel. She is indeed playing for keeps, this is final and quite permanent.

“There, how does this look?” she inquires, in her usual excited chirpy voice.

“What is up with her voice?” I ponder; “That does indeed look fabulous!” I respond; “I would hate to ruin this, for anything!” I finally conclude.

“Thank you!” she responds; “And I could comfort you, by explaining how you will not have to worry about that!” she then adds.

“Thank you!” I respond.

With that, she is capping the final vial; putting it away, and turns towards the next phase of the process.

“Just a moment, and I will be prepared to continue your manicure!” she points out; “Though I guess I could tend to your make-up first, while I am at it!” she then offers.

“Yes, please!” I respond; “If she is as good a make-up artist, as she is a manicurist; I would let her handle my make-up too!” I ponder, grinning inwardly at the idea.

“Lips are red, so I think you would prefer that!” she offers.

“Yes, please; and of course, lips are red!” I respond, without an instant of hesitation.

“I thought you would say that!” she coos, as she is uncapping the red gel lip-gloss she had intended to use on my lips.

Slowly, she is applying the gel onto my lips; I feel my lips growing smooth and slightly wet. Though I do say nothing, expecting her to know what she is doing. Which she indeed is.

Once she had coated my lips, with the red gel, she is placing the lip-gloss back on the table before me. Now she is picking up a lip-liner, with which she is drawing a clear and distinct line at the border of my lips. I had noticed her starting at my right corner and drawing the line towards the left on my upper lip; then she continues to the right on my lower lip. The line is drawn exactly three times around; each layer covering the same place each time.

Now she is picking up the lip-gloss and applying a second coating on my lips. Had I had a mirror before me, I would have seen the metallic bloody red; though it does carry a rubbery sheen to it and has an exaggerated elasticity to it. Even if I had not noticed it, just yet. Maybe I need to challenge it, in order to realize this.

“There, how does it feel?” she inquires.

“Perfect!” I respond; “Just perfect” I add; “I love it!” I conclude.

“Normally, I would have offered you black eye-shadow; but as I see your eyes, I realize that it would not be quite right for you!” she points out, in all honesty.

“Black, is my Mistress to be a Goth?” I ponder; “Yes, black would not be quite right for me, I confirm.

“No, but she has a special love for black!” she responds; “Blue, cerise or silver may be more correct, for you!” she then offers.

“Considering the precision with my lips, she is not going to make any gradient for my eyes!” I ponder; “These do sound exciting!” I respond; “I trust you to choose the correct colour to go with my eyes; so that Mistress will be pleased!” I add.

“Thank you; I will disappoint neither you, nor Mistress!” she assures me, with pride and utter certainty.

“Let me see, which is best for her eyes? Blue, cerise or silver?” she ponders, for but a moment.

She ends up, picking the silver-metallic option for me.

“Now, I need you to close your eyes; so that I can apply the shadows for you!” she explains.

“Oh, but of course!” I respond, as I carefully close my eyes.

I feel the cool touch of the gel-pen’s tip touching my upper right eye-lid. She is slowly, carefully and meticulously applying the gel from the right to the left, line by line; all the way up from the first line, just above the eye-lash of my right eye.

Once she had coated the entire eye-lid of my right eye, she moves over to my left eye. I feel the tip drawing line after line, all the way up to the top of the left eye-globe.

I feel the gel covering the upper eye-lids, perfectly. Only now, she is repeating the process, with my lower eye-lids, just as she had just treated my upper eye-lids. Once she is done, she picks up a black eye-liner and draws a line on the lower border of the upper eye-lids, and another just under the eye-lashes under my eyes. Naturally, she is painting a clear line, just above upper shadows, and another under the lower shadows. This is meant to mark the border of the eye-shadow, while binding the shadow firmly, onto my eye-lids.

As she had finished applying the eye-liner; she is picking up the eye-shadow and renews the effort, in completing my eye-shadows. From there; she is picking up the black mascara and slowly applies the glistering, black to my eye-lashes. Right and left, upper and lower. I feel her pulling and twisting the brush; thus stretching and curling the short hairs as much as she dares.

“Striking!” she pronounces; “Excellent, excellent; Mistress will be most pleased!” she ponders, in obvious glee.

Interestingly enough; I notice how she is applying a clear coat, on top of the eye-shadows she had just given me. If only I had realized, for just how long, I am about to live with this gift of hers. Then again; it would not do, if it had been ruined, before I leave the presence of my new Mistress to be. Now, would it?

“Open your eyes, please; but, slowly!” she coos.

“Oh, okay!” I respond; “Thank you!” I continue; “But why does my eye-lids feel slightly moist?” I ponder; “Almost as if the eye-shadows had been too wet, to dry up?” I consider, giggling at the notion.

“There, how is that?” she inquires.

“I imagine, it looks as good as it feels!” I respond.

“Wait, just one final detail; just smile, and I will be done in an instant!” she coos.

“Oh, okay!” I respond, smiling; “Like this?”I inquire.

“Perfect!” she responds, as she is drawing a line, along the borders of my now metallic bloody red lips.

“There!” she concludes; “Time to tend to your manicure!” she adds.

“Yes, please!” I respond; “Thank you!” I add.

“Just relax!” she coos, as she is slipping the make-up products back where she had found them.

“Now, if you lift up your right hand, please!” she coos, as she is adjusting a connection.

“Okay!” I respond, as I try to lift my right hand; feeling an odd grip holding onto my hand.

A moment later, it is growing tenuous, as it is slowly letting go of the palm of my hand.

“I need the palm of your hand!” she explains, as she is placing two small vials of seemingly clear gel before herself, on the table.

“Okay!” I respond.

I notice her uncapping the first vial, containing a clear, cerise gel; painting the tip of my thumb. Only the tip, from the final joint; all the way in, under the nail.

“There, how is that?” she inquires.

“It feels a bit odd, and tingles for a moment; but otherwise, it feels fine!” I respond.

“Good!” she responds, and continues to apply the gel to the tips of my other fingers of my right hand.

She carefully caps the vial, before uncapping the second vial; painting the entire palm of my right hand with it. I can see and feel, how the gel is covering and coating the palm of the hand, right there before my very eyes. The skin is slowly turning a Silicone-white, as it is growing progressively smoother.

“Your left hand, please; I will need the palm, of the hand!” she explains.

I lift up the palm of my left hand; presenting it to her, and she is repeating the process.

“Whoa!” I ponder; “Wait, what?” I exclaim; “Why does my hand start to look, like a paw?” I inquire.

“The appearance is purely coincidental, I assure you; but Mistress loves these things, and takes great pleasure in making you enjoy this!” she explains.

“So it is intended to be purely functional?” I inquire, with a nervous giggle to my voice.

“Exactly!” she coos.

“Just a moment, this requires a second application; in order for the effect to hold up!” she points out; “We do not wish, to make Mistress disappointed, now do we?” she offers.

“No, of course not!” I respond; “Not after all the efforts, you already put forth, on my behalf!” I continue.

I had failed to notice, how she had swapped the two vials; while she was speaking, and working. Now she is applying the second; full-strength and permanent gel. Not the mere primer, she had used the first time. That had merely been applied, for the next product to have something, to hold on to.

“Lick your lips, please!” she offers, and I comply.

“How do your lips feel?” she inquires; “Smooth?” she adds.

“Yes; slippery smooth and slightly wet!” I confirm.

I notice, how she is producing what looks like a red crop. It is metallic bloody red; matching my lips, perfectly.

“Coarse or smooth?” she inquires.

“Coarse?” I respond.

She twiddles with the crop, for a moment; before she is presenting the coarse side, for me to lick.

“Would you lick it, please?” she coos, highly seductively.

I find myself licking the coarse surface of the crop; incapable to resist her, as she is presenting the crop before my lips.

“There, perfect!” she chimes; “I think Mistress is ready, to see you now!” she coos in obvious delight.

Maybe I should have known more about this crop, but I was not aware it could have any such unforeseen or unforeseeable effects to it. How could I? This is but a red crop, possibly coated with rubber or some similar material.

“Yes, since your Mistress is ready; it is high time, I am leading you to her!” she offers.

“Yes, please!” I respond.

“Then, by all means; I will take you, to her!” she coos; "Raise to your feet, and follow me!” she instructs me.

I happily push myself up, and rise to my feet; as I am stepping out of the comfortable chair, I had been sitting in. Correction, highly comfortable.

She walks over to the door, making her curious and delightful signature noises as she is walking; then she is opening the door before me, and I follow her out into the waiting-room where I had been sitting as I was waiting for my treatment.

Now I am finding myself a bit nervous, about meeting my Mistress for the very first time. I never had a Mistress before. Just that she is making me all giddy and excited.

“Clip, clop! Clip, clop!” I hear the sounds of her hooves as she continues to walk towards the next door.

She opens the third door, and I follow her inside. She is closing this door behind herself.

“She requires you to be nude, as you greet her; please, disrobe and I will lead you further!” she coos.

I follow her direction, and enter a small changing-room booth. At least, I am getting a more private changing-room.

There is a comfortable looking chair, all coated in the same black Silicone I had gotten used to see here. I also have a locker, and the door is black and glisters invitingly.

“Careful, only touch the things with the tips of your fingers!” I hear instructions, from outside the door.

“Oh, okay!” I mumble; “Thank you, for letting me know!”I add.

I carefully open the door, to the locker, and brave a glimpse into the open space inside. It is indeed empty, and void. Though it is decorated, with the purpose of me storing my casual clothes I came here in.

I leave the door open; as I am slipping my skirt down. I step out of it, before I place it into the personal locker. I half by half imagine my name on the door; all in the same black, so I could still not see it. Of course. I giggle at the silly notion.

With the skirt in the locker, I pull the top up over my head, before I place it into the locker. There are apparently separate spaces for each garment I am wearing. Almost as if it had been hand-picked or built specifically for me. Though I had no idea, about how it had been enchanted; in order to match my wardrobe, so I have exactly one shelf for each item I am to place in this locker.

I pull my shoes and socks off of my feet in turn, before I place them on the bottom of the locker-floor; the socks inside the respective shoe.

Now I am finally stepping out of my panties, leaving them onto the shelf intended for them. I pull the brazier up over my head, leaving me nude, and I slip it into the locker and carefully close the door behind me.

“Perfect!” the girl behind me, exclaims; with overwhelming excitement.

“Don’t worry; none will enter this room, and even if anyone had entered it, they can’t open your locker-door!” she then adds.

“Thank you!” I respond, as I open the door, before I emerge from the cramped space.

“Now you know, just how sensitive your fingertips are!” she points out.

“Why did you create these highly sensitive touch-pads, for me?” I inquire.

“For your personal pleasure, of course; even if I suspect your Mistress loves both the looks of them, and the applications she has in store for you!” she explains.

“Oh, but of course; thank you!” I respond; “I guess she has devised a few means of making me enjoy these new complimentary augmented extensions of my body?” I inquire.

“Of course!” she merely agrees.

She is leading me, through yet another door. There is a small room. I have one door before me, and one door behind me; aside from the third door on my right. This is incidentally, where Mistress had been waiting for me.

“You may want to use this!” the girl beside me points out, as she is handing me a lip-balm.

“Thank you!” I respond; as I accept the item.

I apply a coat of the clear gel, on my lips; only to find it slippery, yet excitingly wet.

“I can hold that for you, while Mistress is tending to you; then you can find it, in your private locker!” she points out.

I let her tend to the lip-balm for me. She accepts it, and stash it away; while I am waiting for Mistress. Just as the door opens, the girl by my side is slipping out of the room; closing the door behind herself and vanishes out of sight.

“Greetings, and welcome to our Dungeon; I am tending to you, for the duration of your stay here!” she explains.

“Greetings, Mistress!” I exclaim.

“Did she hand the crop over to my Mistress?” I ponder, while staying quiet.

”Right this way, please; the dungeon is awaiting you!” she prompts.

”Of course, Mistress!” I respond, as I follow her through the door into a long hall.

The floor is glistering black, and I feel the highly elastic Silicone under my bare feet. I also hear the squeaks of her hooves, as she is leading me towards the door of her dungeon.

She is wearing the same ensemble, as the girl who led me to her; only her garments have an inch of silver-metallic trim. Is it denoting her choice of colours? It does resemble the colour of my eye-shadow, the girl had just given me.

”Whoa!” I gasp; ”Does she have a horn, on her forehead?” I realize, in shock.

I had never seen a Changeling myself, and had no idea as to how they would look if they even were actually real; now I have one before me, as the Mistress I had been granted. Apparently, they chose to wear the black ensemble, as a uniform; while masking most of their features, even in here within the domain of their dungeon. I had stepped right into their Hive.

”My Dungeon may be small; but it is cozy, intimate enough to perform as your Mistress!” she informs me.

The room is five by five feet, but a full ten feet from floor to ceiling. All four walls are the same black Silicone; glistering in the spares light and highly elastic and squishy. Had I looked back, I would not have seen where she was hiding the door; since it is such a close match to the wall.

The ceiling is glowing in a faint, Emerald green; illuminating the room, so we can see. Enough to see, but really little more.

”Thank you for licking my red Crop for me!” she coos, demonstrating her gratitude.

”My pleasure!” I respond; before I had the time to consider, what would be the appropriate response.

She merely purrs in obvious excitement. Now she is leading me around a crystal-clear membrane wall, on my right.

While my Mistress is just as excitable as the girl who had led me to her; but she is more serious and down to business. Of course, she is the Mistress; she is in control and can’t act like a school-girl on her first date now.

Once the door had been closed behind me, she is leading me further into the room. I soon find myself behind the membrane-wall.

”Raise your hands, and spread your fingers wide; now place your hands gently against the wall itself, without pressing the palms of your hands against the wall!” she is instructing me.

”There, perfect!” she pronounces, as I comply.

”Press your legs together, firmly!” she continues, and I comply.

With that, I feel the tip of her crop sliding against my legs; all the way down from the floor, and up over my thighs. What comes next, is an utter shock to me.

”Whoa!” I cry out; as I realize what she had just done, and I feel my legs changing into an Equine form.

I see the reflection of my legs, as if the wall before me had been a mirror; my legs had turned into the shape of the idol hidden within the crop she is wielding. I even have the hooves, similar to these of my Mistress.

”Spread your legs, to two feet apart; then spread the tips of your hooves to thirty degrees apart!” she instructs me; and I comply, eagerly.

”She had planned this all along!” I realize; ”I wonder, what she will do next!” I ponder, waiting for her next move, in breathless anticipation.

A moment later, I notice a hint of a green glow; emanating from her horn, as she is about to cast a spell. Whatever it is, I am about to find out; and soon, because the glow is growing in intensity behind me.

While I am waiting, she is tapping each of my fingers in turn; from thumb to pinkie-finger, right and left. While I guess I should have realized what she was doing; the effect is not taking long, as I notice the tip of each finger is turning into a diminutive hoof. Each hoof, the same Fire-ruby, as my lips. Of course, the hue is identical for each of my hooves; both diminutive and full-size once I am standing on.

The timing of the tapping of my fingers may have been a distraction; while she is finally casting the spell. I feel the warmth of the magic envelop my hooves, and my legs several inches up; as the green substance is forming into a thickening oozy gel. The gel is growing in viscosity as the spell is taking hold.

As the spell hits my hooves, the gel is slowly gripping my hooves; holding them down, firmly onto the floor. While it is still merely thick and highly viscous gel; it is elastic, but undeniably holding my hooves firmly into place. Trying as I may, I am incapable of pulling either of my hooves away from the floor, and thus find myself stuck in place.

”Oh? That is the spell she had prepared for me!” I realize.

The green glowing gel never quite cools down, or heats up; just as it never becomes too hard to move, or becomes uncomfortable. Though it is still strong enough, to hold me, firmly into place where she had directed me to stand.

My initial reaction, had been to try to pull my hooves free of its hold; but she had never instructed me to, or even indicated that I am permitted to struggle against it or move. With that, I stay still; both hooves firmly on the floor.

”Let me put a proper smile on your face!” she coos, as she is tapping the tip of my nose.

A moment later, I find my nose turning into a diminutive muzzle; in the style of the Equine idol, hidden within her crop. Of course, I am still holding on to the smile I gave the girl before I met the Mistress; and it merely changed, in order to adapt to the change Mistress had placed on my face.

”There, much better!” Mistress offers; ”Though I would like for you, to be properly attentive to my position!” she points out; tapping my right, and left ear.

Just as she is tapping the tip of the ear; the ear is changing and moving up to the proper position of an Equine ear.

”There, much better!” she offers.

I just nod, in agreement; though I really hope, she is changing me back before I leave. Not sure, how people will react to my new form; once I step out of the Dungeon, in which Mistress is currently holding me.

”Almost done, then we can get to the good part!” she points out.

”Neigh!” I exclaim; unaccustomed to my new voice, based on how my mouth had been transformed.

”There, there; you will get used to it, faster than you could possibly imagine!” she points out.

”Neigh!” I respond.

”I know, I know; that is what every girl say, when I face them with this situation the first time.

”They do?” I ponder; ”How could she possibly know; unless she can actually understand, what I am saying?” I consider.

”And I hope your mouth is as wet, as your lips where; when you entered my Dungeon!” she offers, in excitement.

”Are you saying, that my lips were wet; based on appearance, or based on the lip-gloss I had just put on?” I inquire, with some problem pronouncing the human words with my equine mouth.

”The lip-gloss she gave you; is intended as a high-grade lubricant, for long-term use!” she enlightens me; ”It should make your lips wet and slippery!” she fills in.

”Whoa?” I exclaim, in disbelief; ”You mean, she tricked me to lubricate my lips for you?” I exclaim.

”In effect, she enticed you to do it for me!” she points out.

While she is standing directly behind me, she is slipping the crop in between my legs; lightly tapping my mound and thus causing it to change to her will. I can feel the change, even if I could not quite put a finger to how it is changing; or, into exactly what she is changing me.

”The effect varies, all depending on how you enjoy yourself, and the moment I am about to grant you in just a moment!” she explains.

”You see; I am here to entice you; into enjoying everything I am offering you, for your pleasures!” she points out.

”Sounds good!” I concede; ”But why, does this sound like a Faustian deal?” I ponder, unable to put a finger to exactly what is off here.

”By the way; I took the liberty, of inviting a guest for your pleasures!” she offers.

”You did?” I inquire; ”How thoughtful of her!” I ponder.

”Yes; but of course, my dear!” she proclaims; ”She will see, to making you enjoy yourself; while you are here, with me!” she then explains.

While standing behind me; mistress is taking a step forwards, spreading her arms to the right and left of my body. Just as the door opens, and the promised girl enters; she places the palms of her hands; on the back of my hands, pressing my hands firmly against the clear rubber I had been placing the tips of my fingers.

”Squeak!” I hear, distinctly; as the palms of my hands are hitting the membrane, informing me that the suction-cups are doing their job.

”Am I stuck now?” I ponder.

The girl before me is carefully closing the door behind herself, quietly, just standing before me as if she had intended to show me something. She wants me to see her, and who she is. Not just what she is looking like, when she is stepping into the room.

”This wall before you, is serving a purpose; I can hold you stuck to it, while you can see perfectly clear what is happening behind it!” Mistress offers, as she is explaining my situation further.

”Greetings, Miss!” the girl exclaims, almost as excited as the girl who tended to my manicure and make-up before.

”Only the Mistress is required to maintain this serious business-facade?” I consider, as it is sinking in.

”Watch, carefully!” the girl exclaims, in excitement.

There is a flash of green light, and the girl is changing. I can clearly see her turn into what is looking like a Pony. Only now, she is no longer the glossy black of the hive.

Had I not known better; I would have seen her as a girl’s toy Pony, rather than an actual living and breathing Horse. She is distinctly stylized and moderately simplified. Everything is still there, for all I could see; but she is cuter, and somehow more exciting to behold. At least, she is for me.

”I hope you are the Earth-pony type of girl!” the now Pony offers, somewhat unsure of herself, thus showing a hint of insecurity in herself, to me.

”How do you mean?” I inquire, still with a hint of the former Equine neigh to my voice.

”If it had been more exciting to you; I could have presented myself as a Unicorn, or a Pegasus just as easily!” she explains.

”I think you are just right, as an Earth-pony!” I concede, not wanting to see the flash of green light, just for the fancy of her becoming anything else.

”If this form is pleasing you, this is who I will be for you; even if I could have become a Deer or a Zebra as well!” she offers.

”I think you are perfect, as the Earth-pony you are now!” I exclaim.

”Thank you, Miss!” she responds.

”I guess, everyone is Miss; to her, when she sees them down in the Dungeon?”I ponder, with a hint of an excited giggle.

As I am looking at her, she is a yellowish green, and her mane and tail are a bright cerise. As she is gazing into my eyes, I notice how they are sapphire blue.

”I like your mane!” I offer; as I am looking into her eyes, drawing an excited giggle out of her.

”One small detail!” Mistress proclaims, as she is presenting me with an anal plug.

The plug does look quite large, possibly just at the limit of what I could even swallow. She is moving her right hand, with the plug down towards my rump; then placing the tip of the plug at the entrance of my anal orifice. I feel the slippery wet surface; as she is slowly introducing the plug, pushing it in with deliberate slowness. I feel it slide in, unhindered; inch by inch, as it is pressing me wide open.

”Ooh!” I exclaim.

Several minutes later; I feel the distinct pinch, as the plug is plopping. That is when it had riveted itself, securely into me. I could not push or squeeze it out, now; more than I could have resisted my Mistress, as she had inserted it.

”There, that should keep your focus in place!” Mistress explains, as she is inserting the back of her crop into my orchid.

I feel myself contracting, around the small rubber item; as it is fusing the inside of my vagina.

Mistress is extracting the crop, from inside my vagina, with a pop; this is apparently the cue, for the Pony on the other side of the membrane-wall to finally approach me on this side.

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The Initiationy

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