Room Service

by Kentavritsa

Preparation: 6

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Author's Note

Ms. Squee's POV


Next Chapter: Squee's Date


Preparation: 6

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“Right this way, please..” she begins; “your make-up is complete and quite beautiful!” she adds.

With a nod, I follow her out of the girl’s room; then following her back to the bed-room, where she will help me with the rest of the preparations for what she had in mind for me. I smile, eager and excited.

She is beaming a bright smile against me, as she is leading me into the first of the two bed-rooms; obviously proud, of how well I am taking to the make-up. While I had done all the physical work, she had guided my hand; giving me the products in turn, as she had picked the colours of each in turn.

I had been winking, at her; my eyes fluttering, like the wings of a butterfly. I could not quite help myself, though I guess I barely am aware of doing it. She did not say, and she did not let on; as if doing so, would break the spell.

Well, maybe it could have?

She had known my complexion, carefully picking the colours to match; helping me, creating the beauty, my face had become. It is all, in matching the colours; based on the complexion, and the shape of my face. Sounds simple? Yet, perfection can never be achieved. Can it?

Either way; I am happy with the result, and confident enough to show my face in public.

She had led me into the room, and I am facing the inner wall; while she is standing behind me, her head foll of ideas and plans for this occasion. Even if some of these may stretch well beyond the day and the occasion.

I will learn, of what she is having in mind shortly. In due time. Because; she had not said, and she is not letting on. Not now, and not quite yet.

I am under the impression, she will not say; leaving me to enjoy the moment, as she is savouring the surprise. Intending, not to spoil it, so that I can enjoy it to the fullest.

Well, but why not?

“Spread your legs, please; bend over, then extend your hands with your palms forwards..” she instructs me, placing the palm of her right hand on the small of my back, just as I start leaning forwards.

“Spread your legs more, more, more..” she continues, cooing; “Lean forwards, further, further, further..” she continues, as the hand on my back slowly guides me further and further.

I smile; excitedly, in expectation of what I am awaiting.

With both my feet facing forwards, roughly too feet apart; I find the palms of my hands touching the floor, as she is guiding me forwards.

“There..” she is cooing, in excitement; her hand still on the small of my back, carefully pressing down just a bit further.

With my legs spread, I can reach the floor with comfortable ease; my hands resting firmly on the floor, arms outstretched straight down before me.

In following her instructions, I consent to what she is about to do next; even if I had not known, but it had obviously been implied beforehand. She had let me insert the oral tube and apply the make-up; because I can do it proficiently myself, knowing I will be appreciating and enjoying the offer. Of course I do. Why shouldn’t I?

While I had done it to her, for her; enjoying the application, as she had offered herself to me. Now she is returning the favour; permitting me to explore the sensations and experience, firsthand.

“Now, if I may!” she explains; choosing the anal tube for my benefit, before she is inserting it into me.

I feel it entering, just as she had experienced it earlier; as I had guided it into her, not too long ago. Before, or just after breakfast; wasn’t it?

The thin membrane tube slides in, inch by inch; I can feel it as it continues to slide in, roughly Pi inches in. However, it continues to slide in further and further; until it is reaching its full length, coating me inside.

She is picking up the pencil looking like a lip-liner , or possibly an eye-liner; drawing the line along the rim of the anal tube inserted into me, all the way around until the circuit had been completed and the tube is bonded into me. I feel a shift in sensitivity, as the bond is taking place; then it is fused to my flesh, integrated into my anatomy as if it had always been a part of me.

Now she is picking up the lubrication, as she had placed the pencil on my nightstand; carefully applying the lube, permitting me to feel the wet and slippery sensation it offers.

As the lubrication is coating the inside, I feel wet; a familiar wetness, even if it is in a very unfamiliar place. However, I do not permit this dissonance get to me; enjoying the excitement, induced by the supplied wetness she had administered.

Now she is once more picking up the pencil, she had used to bond the tube; turning it around, before she puts the tip of it at the very edge of the bonded tube. I feel the tip of the pencil, as she is drawing the line; closing the circuit, thus strengthening the bond. I feel the tube tightening up, just as I had felt it; as I had experienced this before; when I inserted the oral tube, between my lips. I had performed the entire process myself. Inserting, bonding, lubricating and then reinforced the bond: once, twice and thrice.

As I feel the effect taking hold, she is taking a step back, before she is repeating the process a second time; drawing the line, closing the circuit and thus reinforcing the bond once more.

I feel the tube tightening up, once more; as I find myself growing wet, as I am exposed to the first influence of the lube coating my flesh.

She is once more applying the bond, now for the third and final time; making the tube tighten up further, as the lubrication slowly saturates the flesh inside. As the tube is completely integrated into me, the lube is acting as if it had been applied directly to my skin; not as if it had been coating the tube, inserted into me.

“There...” she coos; lifting her right hand up and extends the index-finger, placing the tip of the finger at the rim of my orifice.

“How is that?” she inquires; Feels good, doesn’t it?” she continues; as she is sliding the tip of her finger, teasing me and my sensitivity in the process.

I find myself slowly contracting, around the tip of her finger; as my lips forms an oh, and I sigh.

She continues teasing me, knowing how I feel; just to have me explore the experience for a few minutes.

Why, oh why..” I mouth; “oh, oh, oh!” I sigh.

“Delicious..” she mouths, as she is picking up on my emotions; informing her of my state of mind, indicating what I think of her current handiwork.

I love, what she is doing to me; she knows it, as certainly as if I had been doing this to her. As if she had not enjoyed it, as I did this to her; just as she knows, just how much I love it now.

While I notice how my contraction is easing up, ever so slowly; but I had been made aware of what she had done, and the effect is that I instinctively connect this wetness to the excitement it is representing for me.  (and her, of course!)  I am still wet, just as wet as I had been before; the wetness will not subside, and I know it. There is no escape, no escaping it; I am wet, and I will be remaining so indefinitely.

The experience had excited me, is exciting me, will be exciting me; I enjoy it, as she is waiting for me.

As the contraction is subsiding, I find myself relaxing; yet the excitement remains, just as I stay slippery and soaking wet. Somehow, it feels good and reassuring; in ways I can not quite put a finger on, or put words to. Maybe this is, for the better.

As I relax, I regain most of the control, self-control; I can contract and dilate at will, but exactly how well and how much control is up to explore later.

“There..” she coos; “I guess it is time, to move forwards; to step up, continue with the next tube!” she offers.

I wordlessly urge her to continue; to insert the next tube, slipping the vaginal tube into me, just as she had intended. While not strictly necessary, but it will balance my emotions better.

Once she had extracted the vaginal tube, for my benefit, I feel the tip touching the petals of my orchid, slowly sliding in into me. I could have protested, or tried to reject it; but I had accepted the offer, permitting her to insert the tube as she sees fit. She gently slide it in, inch by inch; before she is retracting her hand, while the tube continues to slide into me further and further.

While I may feel only the first Pi inches, still knowing it is continuing further beyond this; stretching all the way inside, coating and covering me all the way in to the bottom of my womb. As opposed to the previous two tubes, there is nothing holding this tube back; thus is continues unhindered, all the way inside. It does not prevent me, or change anything just yet.

I feel the tip of the pencil, as it is touching the edge of the tube; while she draws the line all the way, then closing the circuit and the bond is taking hold. The tube is bonding to my flesh. I can not pull it out, but why would I possibly want to do that?

She is once more applying lubrication, this time to the petals of my orchid; causing the lubrication to propagate inside of me, further and further inch by inch. In mere minutes, the entire tube is covered and coated; leaving me wet, excited in the process.

She picks up the pencil, drawing the line along the rim of the vaginal tube inserted into me; closing the circuit, thus strengthening and reinforcing the bond. I feel the tube tightening up, as a reaction; while I can guess, I am tightening up around the tube just as much. The tube is starting to blend in with the flesh.

She is repeating the process, reinforcing the bond; causing the tube to contract further, as I am starting to find myself wet.

With the third and final application, the process is complete; the bond fully integrating the vaginal tube into me, my flesh. I feel the tube contracting once more, as I find myself growing wet; as the tube is completely integrated into me, the lubrication thus saturating the inside of my vagina and all the way up into my womb.

Once she had placed the pencil on the nightstand, she moves her right hand up between my legs; extending the index-finger, placing the tip over the petals of my orchid. As the tip of her finger is touching me, slowly moving over the petals of my orchid, she is confirming what I had suspected or already known. I am wet, slippery.

In the process, I find myself contracting; in response to her teasing and stimulation, in expectation of what is to come next.

Only now, she is raising her left hand, extending the index-finger; placing the tip of the finger on the top of my rear orifice. As she caress the outer rim of the orifice, I find myself contracting once more; as she continues to tease me, confirming that the sensations are identical.

Whoa!!” I exclaim; “That, that, that is curious; but I can’t help but enjoy it as I find it very exciting, even if I had not even liked the notion before!” I realize.

“While there is one more item to attend to, I will let you explore this realization; as well as the sensations, it is eliciting!” she explains, while she continues to tease me from behind.

However, she is retracting the right hand from my orchid; while the left hand remains, as she continues to caress me. With each instant, she is caressing me; I find myself contracting further, and the intensity growing more and more profound and emphasized. I can not help myself, I am growing excited; as I am losing the control of my contraction completely, but she persists for several minutes further.

While it is scary, I just can not help myself; finding it even more exciting, only making me all the more excited in the process.

My knees tremble, my elbows tremble; then the unthinkable happens, and I experience the first sign of the oncoming orgasm.

My mouth forms a capital oh, in shock and excitement; and the orgasm finally hits me like a ton of bricks from the top of a very tall sky-scraper.

First now, she is pulling back; retracting the hand, as she is standing behind me.

She is observing me, my reaction; as I experience the effects of what she had exposed me to, where I stand on all fours. Exposed. Proud. I do not back down, but enjoy what she had so generously given me.

“I did not think, you had that in you; did you, Miss Squee?” she inquires; as I remain, firmly in place.

I say nothing, remaining unresponsive; lost for words, while I am riding out the experience.

I feel hot. I remain wet, soaking; but not a single drop shed.

“You should not stand up, on your own..” she merely concludes; “so I will help you, up onto the bed!” she explains.
I remain in place, unmoving; my eyes closed, leaving my room dark.

A moment later, she is taking a step forwards; extending her hands, placing them on my waist with delicate and loving care. She takes another step, forwards; sliding her hands over the sides of my body, until I feel her hands in my arm-pits.

With a firm grip, and her feet securely just behind the heels of my right and left foot; she pulls me up on my feet, holding me up in a securely standing position.

I can feel her large breasts, as she holds me close to her belly; before she takes the first step, towards the bed before me. She takes another step, and another, and another; finally standing beside the bed, where she intends to deposit me.

I am breathing hard, panting rapidly; not quite exhausted, but overtaken by the unexpected experience and the sensations I had been exposed to.

As she is letting go of me, I lie on my back; resting comfortably on the bed, as she continues to observe me in growing excitement. She takes a step back, leaning up against the wall; waiting for me to come back to myself.

My breath is slowing as I am relaxing, just as I am finding myself relaxed, as the stimulation grows more and more distant in time. Only once I breathe normally, does she once more approach me; picking the final tube, intended for my belly button. What it is for, I have no idea. Beats me. But what do I care? Right now, I am still relaxing, enjoying the afterglow; even if that afterglow feels red-hot like iron pulled out of the furnace in preparation for tempering.

Am I the sword, tempered into shape; hardened and sharpened, in preparation for that sword’s master?

I still can not help myself, enjoying the moment; even if part of the situation still escapes me, but maybe that is due to what I had just experienced?

I can see the Pi inch, crystal clear tube in her hand; as she moves it over, slowly inserting it into my empty and awaiting belly button. The tube slides in, a little bit at the time; inch by inch, until my belly button had swallowed its entire length, up to the hilt.

How was that even possible?” I ponder, in stark realization; “I thought, that tube had been too big; to fit in, into the space of my belly button!” I then continue.

With the tube in place, inserted into my belly button; she picks up the pencil, drawing a line along the outer rim of the clear silicon the tube had been made out of. As the circuit had been closed, the bond is taking hold; the tube is blending into my flesh, just as it had been intended.

Instead of lubrication, she is picking a different product; but she is still applying a clear gel into the new orifice the belly button had become, caressing it in. The gel propagates, over the surface of the tube; all the way in, just as intended.

Curious..” I mumble, but no sound is escaping my lips.

“Such is the experience, the first time; but you will get used to it, over time with further exposure!” she explains.

Oh..” I mouth.

“Rest up, so you can stand on your own two feet; before I can help and guide you, dressing up for the fun..” she merely explains, indicating that something is planned for the rest of the day.

Of course it is, why had I not thought of that before? I should have realized it. Why else, had she placed such effort in my make-up?

Some undetermined time later, I slide my feet off of the bed; sitting up comfortably on the bed.

“If you can stand up, I want you to dress up; because I had intended, for the two of us to go out..” she explains.

Now I notice, how she had moved over to the wardrobe; opening the doors to one of them, while I am raising to my feet. I take a few steps towards her, while she is selecting the ensemble for me. As I am effectively nude, I need to put on clothes; before I can go out, into the public. I had realized as much, already.

“For the occasion, I would suggest that you wear black underwear; as comfortable as your red once may be, but this would be more appropriate!” she explains; as she is extracting a pair of panties, fitting me right now.

“She would know my size, based on what I had been wearing to bed!” I realize, as I am accepting the panties she is offering.

I am stepping into the panties, right and left; putting my feet down, before I pull them all the way up. Only affording a few tentative tugs: once, twice and thrice; in order to ascertain they sit on just right.

Oh..” I mouth; “Feels comfortable enough!” I mouth.

While the skirt is indeed tight; it is also elastic enough, to let me move freely enough for me to walk, unhindered. This skirt had been designed for me to wear, based on the panties I wore all night; so conveniently enough, it is actually sliding into perfectly without prompt.

Oh?” I mouth.

She just snickers, as she observes my expression.

“Here..” she offers; as she hands me the newly extracted blouse-top, she had chosen for me.

Thank you..” I respond, mouthing the words; while I accept the latest piece of the ensemble, she had picked for me to wear.

I slip my hands in, through the sleeves right and left; pulling it tighter around myself, before I start buttoning it up one button at the time. I had started with the first button, all the way down; continuing to the last one, all the way up just under my chin. A bit strict, maybe; but this blouse-top demands this out of me, for this occasion. Or, that is my impression; I am running with it, and Rarity is not complaining or stopping me. Why should she?

“If you had invited a guest, you would have been appropriately dressed up; but since we are going out, you will be needing these..” she informs me, as she is extracting a pair of knee-long toe-stockings, handing them over to me, and I eagerly accept them.

Black..” I ponder; “and semi-translucent!” I mouth, as I am lifting my right foot, slipping it into the stocking.

My foot eagerly slides all the way down: as the stocking swallows it only too willingly; so I can feel my toes slide into the correct positions, before I set my foot down and lift up my left foot in turn. Now I am repeating the process, soon to find myself standing on my own two feet; with the only difference, I am now wearing the stockings she had just offered me.

The stocking proudly stay up, as if I had been wearing a garter-belt to hold them up. These stockings are just as tight, as my other garments; adding a complimentary flare, lending my legs that highly effeminate look that is to die for. Not to say; that I did not have an effeminate appearance, before.

“These should be perfectly you..” she exclaims, as she is offering me a pair of long gloves; which I am accepting, without a thought.

As I slide my right hand in, the experience is identical, to how it had felt to slide my feet into the stockings. However, I can see my fingers bare; proudly showing off the inch-long, semi-square, crystal-clear nails and the bright cerise and highly sensitive touch pads reaching from the final joint of each finger and all the way up to the nail.

Furthermore, I have a silver-metallic suction-cup covering the entire palm of my hand. Not exactly industrial strength, but enough to be fun to play around with; or, at least so I figure.

“There, now we can go out in style..” she proclaims; “If you follow me down, to the cloaking room; so we can get going, and have some fun!” she offers.

With that, she is closing the door to the wardrobe, turning her back on it completely; before she walks up to the door, lifting her right hand and extends it palm up towards the plaque. As she is spreading her fingers, wide; the door opens and she is stepping out of the room. I follow her, just a step behind; the door is closing behind me, just as I had cleared the threshold and Rarity leads me down the flight of stairs.

I follow her through the living room and she is once more extending her right hand; opening the door and I step through a mere step behind her once more.

“Since we are going out, we can’t just step out barefoot; socks or stockings does not count, we need stylish shoes too!” she explains.

Of course..” I merely agree, waiting for her to suggest what to wear.

“These; Crescent Moon, should be right up your alley?” she inquires.

Interesting..” I ponder; “Equine?” I inquire, nodding and accepting her choice.

“We do have the Bovine and Cervine varieties to choose from, if you feel like trying them out?” she inquires.

For today, I go with these; but I guess I will have to try your options to, particularly the Cervine looks interesting!” I respond.

I lift my right foot, slipping it right into the boot; putting the hoof down, as my foot is all the way in. Now I am repeating the process; only to find myself standing on my own two hooves. Naturally, I had been watching and observing Rarity; while she had been stepping into her very own boots, coincidentally the same model.

“Clip, clop; clip, clop..” is heard, as I walk over to the door, where she is currently waiting for me.

I watch her lifting her hand, once more; pressing the palm of her right hand onto the plaque, only to spread her fingers in order to open the door. The door eagerly slides up, granting us access to the hall outside the cloaking room; then I follow Rarity in the direction towards the elevator, where Ellie the Waitress is awaiting us.

“Clip, clop; clip, clop; clip, clop..” is heard; as Rarity walks towards the elevator-door, with me in tow a mere step behind.

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