Author's Note

Pass: Author

Ms. June Sly's POV

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Room Service: 3

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Twins Interplay

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As I am waking up, I have a distinct sense of the room being dark.

After a moment, I am opening my eyes; noticing the dim light of the night sky overhead. Just enough light, for me to see the vague details of the room, without the slightest hint of discomfort; so that I can scan the rooms, in order to recognize where I am. I pick up the details, reminding me of where I am.

This is the room beside my sisters, in the suite we had chosen the day before; at the Royal Twilight Inn, just as she had booked for us. I had just been taken aback, by the ostentatious luxury; once I had seen it first hand, as opposed to just seeing a few pictures accompanied by the general description.

While everything in the room is exactly where I recall, something is still strange and unfamiliar; as if I had woken up, in a room other than the one I had gone to bed and fallen asleep in. Just that I can’t quite put a finger to exactly what is off.

Maybe, just maybe. It is not the room I am not familiar with; but something, or rather someone else I am not quite as familiar with as I had been expecting the other day. Maybe, just maybe. This someone, being me.

Not so much that it is uncomfortable, by any means.

Slipping the right hand out from under the quilt, or rather the right fore-hoof; lifting it up before my eyes, examining the still metallic bloody red hoof I find myself looking at.

“Oh, oh...” I mouth.

“This, is quite impossible?” I ponder, considering what it is I am looking at.

“An Equine hoof, as if I had been a Pony?” I ponder, snickering excitedly.

“That sound..” I ponder; “and now, I even sound like that very Pony, I thought I was looking at..” I consider, still snickering.

A moment of contemplation, and I fold the corner of my quilt back up against the wall; before I slide my feet out from under the quilt, or rather my hind hooves. The same, smooth metallic bloody red hooves; just the hind hooves, in place of the fore-hooves I had just been examining a moment earlier.

I sit up, pushing myself off of the bed; my hooves landing with a distinct squeaking thud.

At first, it had not quite registered; but my breasts had contracted into the teen A Cups the suit had promised, while my nipples had grown into the hard E Cups despite what I had been expecting. A redistribution of mass would be possible, but the radical changes were beyond what I had believed possible.

While I do enjoy the Fantasy, just as I may be an avian reader of these adventures; I still do not believe it is possible, not in this world at least. Just that that is the fun in the story, immersing oneself in an adventure; with different set of rules enabling entirely different experiences, from what one is brought up with and taught to be out there.

Reading a Fantasy Novel, or engaging in the Role Playing Game based on these realities are fascinating to me; if and when I do have the opportunity, to engage in one. Is this, why I had opted to choose the garments I chose; both for myself and my older sister, May? Just imagining, I could become the girl the suit or ensemble suggested I could be; if only, for the day or fantasy?

Just as I had failed to see my skin being silver metallic; I had yet to notice or realize, how I have sprouted a horn, a muzzle and my ears now being completely Equine.

“If I imagine, I have these pretty hooves, I have them; which means I could use them, the way they had been intended to be used?” I ponder; “but if I fail, or refuse to accept the adorable hooves; does it mean I still have the hands I had yesterday, incapable of using the hooves I can see?” I question; “or am I just imagining I have these hooves, while I in fact have my hands the way I always had; which means I never could use hooves, but only fail to use my hands properly on the account of believing I have these hooves?” I consider, snickering.

Of course, there is but the one way to find out; I have to test the possible options one at the time to see: which is proving true. Or, which is the most beneficial to me; based on how I appreciate the result, of what I have.

Since I clearly see hooves, where my hands had been; I start out, presuming I have the hooves I can see. If these hooves are, what I have; I can as well accept them, for the time being. Maybe, just maybe; I could opt for a different pair of gloves; in the hopes I could have hands, if and when I so choose. Or, if it proves I will be needing them. But, that is for later; I will work on the assumption; of having the hooves I can see, rather than the hands I had the night before.

Assuming, that my senses are lying to me; it just does not sit well with me, so I prefer to test my situation on the basis on being right. I can see hooves, where my hands should have been; as wrong as this may be, but it is what I have. I choose to work, with the hooves I can see and feel; over the hands, I thought I had as late as lest night. The very hands, I had been born with and grew up with.

While having hooves, would be outlandish; but assuming I don’t have them, when I clearly see them before me? Just as I would have to cast doubt, on my senses in general; even if I know I had hands the other day. The line of reasoning; does not promise the fruits, I want to taste.

Until proven otherwise, it is safer to bet on what you can see and feel; over the notion of the memory, of yesterday. Yes, I still do remember the hands I had; but if these are the hooves I have now, I will afford them the benefit of the doubt. Testing, what I have before me.

On that note, is it the senses deceiving me; or is it my memory, tricking me?

The door to my bed room slides up, and I expect to see my sister May; but in her place, I can see a girl in the hotel’s uniform. Aside from the hair, in the coiffure of their choice; she is clearly looking like Aloe.

“Greetings, Miss Sly!” she coos, looking at me with reverence I had not been expecting.

“Greetings, Miss Aloe!” I respond; “but please, call me June..” I offer; taken aback and somewhat uncomfortable, with the formal tone to her voice and greeting.

“Of course, June!” she responds, tasting the sound and feel to my familiar name.

“Uhm..” I begin; “Do.. do, do I have hooves?” I inquire; “Or, are my senses deceiving me?” I continue, clarifying my situation, such as I’m experiencing it.

“Yes, June..” she responds; “You do indeed have hooves!” she offers.

“Changing one’s appearance; is second nature to us, here at the Royal Twilight in..” she points out; “even if this is more; than you had been used to, or had been prepared for?” she then inquires.

“Make-up, Manicure, Pedicure; these I am used to..” I respond; “just as I am used to changing clothes on a regular, daily basis!” I continue.

“I perform make-up on a daily basis..” she explains; “Manicure and Pedicure is colloquially or collectively referred to, as Hooficure in your situation; but that is just a matter of semantics, it is the same thing..” she explains; “however, I do perform these regularly, just as I offer massages and other Spa-related services!” she concludes.

“Ooh, ooh..” I mouth; as the coin slips into the slot and I imagine the sound is heard, figuratively at the very least.

“You could be the Pony, for the day; since you already look the part, and you can’t change back right now, anyway..” she offers, with a warm smile.

“I could?” I inquire.

“Since you have all the essentials, in place; you most certainly could, yes!” she confirms; “even if it looks, as if you don’t have a tail, though!” she continues.

“When you put it like that; are you suggesting, I could sprout a tail, too?” I inquire.

“You just need to select the corresponding panties, for you to sprout the tail of your choice; whichever tail you choose, if and when you do choose to..” she offers; “but it takes a full night’s sleep of eight hours for the change to take effect!” she explains.

“One change of clothes, per day..” I put forth; “which suggests; I can change my appearance, on a daily basis?” I inquire.

“Yes, exactly..” she responds; “While I guess, you could wear the clothes you have on; but you may enjoy slipping into an ensemble or suit more suited for daytime, including a skirt and a top!” she suggests.

“Oh, okay..” I respond; “These would be stored in the other wardrobe?” I inquire.

“Exactly..” she confirms; “However, I feel you would appreciate taking full advantage of my presence here right now; I could offer you a relaxing and enjoyable hoof massage, before you change into your daytime wears..” she offers.

“Since you are offering, I guess it would not hurt accepting; please, I think I would enjoy this..” I put forth.

With that, she is producing a can of clear gel. I watch her, as she is uncapping the can before me; placing the cap onto the bed-stand.

“If you sit down onto your bed, June; then I can perform the hoof massage for you..” she is offering.

“Oh; but of course, Aloe!” I respond, as I sit down, on the middle of my bed; “by all means, please do!” I respond.

She is scooping up a handful of the clear gel with her right hand; carefully rubbing it into her hands, before she steps up to me.

“Your right fore-hoof, please..” she coos, expectantly and I comply.

With that, I can feel her caressing the front of my hoof with her right and left hand, slowly working the gel into the hard surface of the hoof. She is using the entire hand, as well as the tips of her fingers; as she is working the gel in, massaging my hoof expertly. From the top, down; to the right and left until she had reached the back. From there, she is working her way down and finally in under the sensitive frog of the hoof.

“Ooh, ooh..” I exclaim; “Glossy!” I coo, in overt delight.

“Your left hoof, please!” she coos, as she had finished the right fore-hoof.

I eagerly comply, as I ogle the smooth and glossy hoof; she is repeating the process, while I am distracted.

How the gel is affecting me or my hoof through the gloves or stockings, I have no idea; but I don’t care, I just enjoy the attention and sensations she is offering me right now.

It takes her a few minutes, and she certainly does take her time; but then she is handing the left fore-hoof back to me.

She is producing a foot stool with a crystal-clear and squishy Silicon cushion to rest my legs on, upon which she is resting my right and left hind hoof comfortably; for her to work her magic, without disturbing me in the process.

For a moment, I continue to ogle my right, and then left fore-hoof; before I lean back, relaxing while she is working.

The gel had been formulated, to work through the gloves and stockings as a conduit; not directly onto my hooves, for some unspecified reason I don’t understand. Not that she had explained it. However, I do still enjoy the attention she is extending me. What more do I need?

What more, do I need? Indeed.

“There, all done..” she exclaims; “How was this?” she inquires.

“Thank you, Aloe..” I respond; “I enjoyed every instant of it, and your attention!” I offer.

“I noticed..” she merely suggests.

She is pulling the foot stool out from under me, and my hooves fall down onto the side of my bed.

She is standing before me, only taking a step to the left; still observing me, as she is waiting for a few more minutes as the gel concludes its work. My hooves grows harder, as they become more and more glossy in the process.

What little sensitivity I had on my hooves is melting away under the gracious and graceful touch of her fingers; but the effect continues, even after she had worked the gel into the front of the hooves.

“Proper hooves had to be hard..” I realize, with a snicker.

Of course, they had to; just that I am no horse, but so long as I have hooves it still applies to me all the same. Regardless.

“If you slip down, out of your bed; I believe your breakfast is awaiting you, in your living room..” she offers, with a smile.

“Oh, but thank you, Aloe!” I respond, as I push myself forwards, off of the bed.

“Clip, clop!” is heard; as my hooves are hitting the floor, the next moment.

She is turning towards my door, taking a step and is raising her right hand as she is extending the palm onto the plaque; spreading her fingers wide to open the door and is stepping out before me, only for the door to quietly close behind me as I had cleared the threshold.

<--- --- --->

Of course Rarity had been there, just as she had prepared the breakfast for me and my sister May, I had enjoyed it royally.

Only now, I am following Aloe back, to my bed room. She had opened the door, on her way back into my bed room.

The door had just swooshed closed behind me, as she is leading me to the wardrobe holding my daytime wears.

I am standing a step behind her; as she is opening the doors to show me, what I had been offered.

“Now, is the time for you to disrobe..” she suggests; “or; undress, if you prefer?” she offers, generously.

“I may need some help, here; this is after all the first time, I try to slip out of these..” I put forth.

“Oh, yes; but of course, if you so desire?” she offers.

“Yes, please..” I respond.

“Since you ask, I help you..” she offers, taking a step forwards.

“Thank you, Aloe!” I respond.

As I am standing before her, facing the mirror in the wardrobe; she is reaching for my right fore-hoof. Gently sliding her hands all the way up my arm before she is slipping her nails in between the top and the glove.

“Oh, oh..” I mouth; “that, that; feels weird..” I explain; “will I ever get used to it?” I finally inquire.

“Feels as if you were nude?” she inquires and I nod vigorously; “The gloves are your skin, even when the metallic bloody red distinctly screams out how impossible it is?” she inquires and I once more find myself nodding.

“Yeah, I had the impression you would feel it that way..” she exclaims, as she slowly starts pulling the sleeve of the full-length glove off of what had once been my hand and arm.

Only now, it is my right fore-hoof and fore-leg. Not to say, this makes it any easier to reconcile for me.

She leaves the glove on the floor of the wardrobe, revealing the silver metallic hide underneath; even if I am rubbery smooth, not coated in fur by any means. Perfectly smooth, just as the glove I had slipped on the other day. Not a trace of a single hair to be seen or felt.

With the gloves on the floor, she continues to the top; “Raise your fore-hooves up against the ceiling..” she suggests, as she is starting to pull the top up over my head; “and it will be much easier for me to help you with the top!” she concludes, as she is continuing to pull the top over my head.

As the top is clear of my fore-hooves, she drops the top onto the gloves on the floor of the wardrobe; letting her hands fall to the sides of my chest, gently caressing the silver metallic hide she had just revealed to me.

“Looking good?” she inquires, as she is revealing more of my flesh.

“Ooh, ooh..” I mouth, as I see the result, feeling her hands exploring my newly exposed hide and I can see exactly what the top had done for my breasts and nipples.

“Yes, that is you; the new you, for the remainder of the day!” she explains, smiling.

“Oh, oh; ooh..” I mouth, just as her fingers slide up on the sides of my breasts.

“Not large..” she offers; “but it should be comfortable and pretty on you..” she then adds.

“I had chosen the top; or rather, my sister had chosen it for the two of us!” I realize.

I feel her hands slipping and sliding along the skin, my hide; from the sides of my chest and up my breasts, only to momentarily stop to tease my nipples with delicious temptations.

“Oh, oh; ooh..” I mouth, as her fingers caress my unexpectedly large nipples.

“Yes, yes; I thought you would say that..” she coos; “or, something just like it!” she teases.

“She had known that; since the moment she lay eyes upon me, wearing the metallic bloody red ensemble?” I ponder.

Of course, she had; knowing what the suit does, and how a girl just like me was to react upon its influences.

It is not, as if she or her fingers had grown bored of teasing my breasts or nipples; it is just, that she knew when it is time to move up. Her hands slide up my breasts, leaving my hard nipples behind on their way up to my neck; only for her fingers to slip in under the rim of my hood, slowly sliding further up my neck. Slowly, gently; she is starting to pull the hood up over my head.

A moment, maybe as much as five minutes later; I feel the hood sliding over my face, only to reveal my muzzle, my eyes, my horn before my mane is freely flowing along my neck.

The skin of my face, consistently the same glossy silver metallic as the rest of my body. Of course, but of course it had to be. What had I been expecting, the old pinkish hue my skin had before I arrived? Had she told me nothing, and had she taught me nothing? However, my eye-lids are metallic bloody red, glossy and glistering beautifully in the light of the room.

“Beautiful!” she states; “But then; you are a Unicorn, after all!” she explains.

“So that Horn is a genuine Unicorn horn?” I inquire.

“Yes..” she confirms; “yes, it is indeed..” she adds; "and such a beautiful triple-spire it is!” she compliments.

“Like the rest of my face, it is silver metallic and glossy!” I notice, mouthing an; “Oh, oh, oh..” in awe.

As I am looking at the mirror, my reflection; I notice my ears perking up, facing forwards in excitement.

“Excited?” she inquires, as she is watching my reaction; “your equine ears are quite expressive, you know; if you wish to hide your emotions, you will have to learn how your emotions are showing on your face, and in your stance..” she offers; "though I doubt, it is worth the effort!” she then points out.

“Oh?” I inquire.

“However, I could always tease you; by reverse association, to keep your mood in check..” she offers.

“You could?” I inquire.

“If I were to apply a pose fixative to your ears now; you would find a tug towards excitement, holding you in this mood..” she incites.

“Whoa..” I gasp.

“It is useful, in specific situations..” she explains; but is not to be taken lightly, or toyed with carelessly!” she points out.

With that, she is sliding her hands down towards my panties; slipping her fingers in under the rim of the garment, before she is sliding it down to drop it onto the floor.

I feel her fingers slide back up to the right stocking, slipping in under its rim; before her hands once more slide down, thus causing the stocking to slide down and helplessly fall to the floor. She repeats the process, sliding her hands up; inserting her fingers under the rim of the left stocking, only to slide her hands down to relieve my left leg of the stocking I was wearing.

“Take a step back, please.” she offers,

As I comply, she bends over; picking up the discarded garments, depositing them onto the pile of my clothes in the wardrobe.

“If you could bend over, please; then spread your hooves two feet apart, and relax?” she coos, inciting me.

As I comply, she is producing a metallic bloody red nighttime anal membrane tube; carefully inserting it, into my rear orifice.

“Oh, oh, oh..” I mouth, as I feel the ultra-thin Silicone-membrane grace the skin as it is sliding into me; then swiftly propagating in inch by inch as far as I can sense it.

While I am ooh-ing, she is producing the pencil or lip-liner; drawing a line along the rim on the tube inserted, only for the tube to bond to my flesh as the circuit is closed. As the bond is completed, I feel a momentary contraction; while the tube is blending into my flesh, but the sensation soon ebbs out and I forget it before I even had the time to mouth the concerns.

“Anal Membrane Tube” the label reads; “Back Orifice” the subtitle reads; "Plug and Play - Reproductive Excitement” the second subtitle reads.

“While you are there, if you do not mind; I think it would be right, to insert your vaginal tube, while we are at it..” she offers, with the promised tube in hand.

“Oh, if you please..” I respond.

With the tube on the tip of her extended index-finger, she slide it into my vagina from behind; withdrawing the hand, before she is drawing a line along the rim of the inserted tube, thus bonding it to my flesh. The tube forming a highly elastic barrier, coating the inner walls of my vagina and womb; once the bond had been completed, as if the Silicone had been the outer walls of my vagina.

“Vaginal Membrane Tube” the label reads.

While I remain distracted, she is extracting the wet lubrication and applies it to my vagina and anus respectively, in turn; before she is reapplying the lip-liner: thus confirming the bond, affirming the bond and finally reinforcing said bond.

I feel the contraction, with each application; then the wet lubrication with the second and the integration with the third application of the bond.

“How is that?” she inquires; “I hope you are ready, for your panties now, June!” she offers, as she is extracting a pair of skin-tone panties.

“Uhm, confusing for a moment; but it’s growing on me all the same..” I respond; “Yes, but of course..” I confirm; “but, would you mind to insert the third and final membrane tube, too?” I finally inquire.

“Step right into these, and I will help you..” she responds, holding up the promised panties before me.

“Thank you..” I respond, as I am stepping into the panties she is holding up before me; whereupon she is pulling the panties all the way up, only to afford them a few tentative tugs: once, twice and thrice.

“There, I hope they are comfortable enough..” she responds, even knowing they had been intended for me all along.

“I barely feel the panties, once on; but I guess: that is a bit discomforting, at first..” I respond.

“If you were to gently place your right fore-hoof, onto your belly; sliding it downwards, all the way down?” she incites, and I find myself placing the proffered hoof on my belly button.

I slide the hoof down, feeling the smooth silver metallic hide under the frog of the hoof; then my hoof slides down upon the now greatly increased mound, matching the promised G Cup chosen for the panties I was wearing the previous night. Wait, I had chosen the panties myself; but I guess, I had failed to realize what the choice was implying at the time. Now I am stuck with the consequences, of the greatly enhanced and enlarged mound I had chosen for the remainder of the day. No chance to change, until I have the benefit of a full night’s sleep.

“Since she directed me to probe my belly and explore myself; she had wanted for me to realize, how I had been changed?” I realize.

“At least; your panties are hiding the petals of your orchid, for as long as you wear them!” she promptly explains, upon noticing my reaction.

“That would have been embarrassing, if they had been openly exposed..” I mouth.

“With the G Cup, I imagine it would have been..” she responds, with a snicker.

“When you put it like that..” I gasp; “are the changes to the petals of my orchid as extensive, as the size of the G Cup is suggesting?” I inquire.

“I imagine, it is..” she coos, in delight.

“Oh, oh..” I exclaim; “Oooh!” I mouth, in stark realization.

“However, since I am here; I can guide you, to adjust to what you are right now..” she suggests; "as well as guide you, towards the most desirable outcome, in the long run!” she is promising.

“I can as well explore the result, of my choices now; before I consider, how to proceed!” I respond.

“Given enough time, I can help you fine-tune your appearance and experience; to make you into who you want to be, in place of who you were or could have become!” she offers.

Of course, she neglected to tell me about the deeper consequences; just how deeply this could change me, if I expose myself and my sister to what Aloe has to offer.

She had already selected the top for me to wear, only to extract it for me; “If you lift up your fore-hooves, and I can help you slipping the top on..” she offers.

“Thank you, Aloe..” I respond, as I comply.

With my fore-hooves up in the air, she is sliding the promised top down; only to afford it a few tentative tugs: once twice and thrice.

“There, how’s that?” she inquires, just as she is finishing adjusting the fit of the top she helped me to put on.

“I barely feel it, on; but I guess, that was to be expected?” I respond.

“Comfort is premium..” she responds; “Your comfort, in particular!” she points out.

She is extracting the requested oral tube for me, presenting the metallic bloody red membrane tube before me. I just nod.

"Part your lips, slightly..” she suggests and I comply.

With that, she is slipping the tube in between my slightly parted lips; whereupon I feel the slippery and smooth membrane sliding over my lips and into my mouth. I experience a momentary wave of contraction, as the tube slide into my mouth; propagating in, further and further. It coats my lips, my mouth, my tongue and finally inch by inch down my throat.

“Lip-gloss?” I inquire.

“Oh, certainly..” she responds, as she is producing the proffered product; applying it onto my lips.

I feel the brush moving from the middle to the right and from the middle to the left on my upper lip; stroke by stroke, until she deems it reaching as far in as is desirable. She repeats the process; applying the lip-gloss to my lower lip.

Once she had applied the gloss to my lips, she is extracting the lip-liner; drawing the line from the right to the left along my upper lip, then from the left to the right, along the upper lip. As the circuit is closing, I feel a slight contraction. She is repeating the process: once, twice and thrice; confirming, affirming and reinforcing the bond between my lips and the inserted tube.

I feel my lips growing wetter and wetter with each application of the lip-liner; as the lip-gloss is touching my lips and then blending with my lips with each application.

“How does it look?” she inquires.

“Great..” I respond; “just as glossy as I was hoping, even if I had not expected it quite this glossy..” I continue.

She is lifting up her right hand, extending the index-finger; lightly booping my lower lip, sliding the tip of the finger over the lip. I feel the touch of the tip of her index-finger, as light as the touch ever was; but then I notice how my lips contract under her touch, before the contraction moved into my mouth and inches down my throat, before she pulls her finger back.

“Oh, oh.. oh, oh.. ooh, ooh..” I mouth, as she is booping my lower lip.

“Yes, exactly..” she concedes; “slippery and wet is causing the glossy effect to your lips!” she explains.

“Oral Lubrication” the label reads; “Orgasmic and Wet” the subtitle reads.

“Could, could you..” I put forth; “touch my lip, again?” I inquire; “just to confirm, what I think I had felt!” I ponder, without mouthing my suspicion.

“Of course, June..” she responds, only to slide the tip of her right index-finger over my lower lip again; “Yes, yes, yes..” she ponder; just now she puts slightly more pressure and moves lower than the first time.

“Thank you..” I mouth, in response to her promise; “Oh, oh, oo..” I coo, as I feel the tip of her extended index-finger sliding in over the middle of my lower lip.

There is a tingling sensation of excitement, as the tip of her finger is sliding over the wetness coating my lower lip; just as I feel the contraction, progressing with the applied pressure the tip of her extended index-finger asserts onto my lower lip.

She is repeating the move: once, twice and thrice; observing the change in my expression, with each consecutive applied boop to my lower lip.

“If you part your lips..” she is suggesting, inciting me to play the part for her next attempt.

Only she is placing the tip of the finger at the very edge of my lower lip; pressing down firmer, only to observe my lips contracting around the tip of her finger.

“While I focus, struggling to keep my lips parted slightly; I can’t help it, as my lips contract around the tip of her finger gently pressing down on my lower lip!” I consider, in stark realization.

“Oh?” I exclaim, through tightly contracted lips.

“Open your mouth, wide..” she coos; pressing the tip of her index-finger down firmer, sliding it into my mouth.

“I, I can’t..” is all I manage to mouth, before my mouth is contracting.

She is exciting me, just by touching my now wet lip. I feel wet, as if I had been excited; realizing she is exciting me, and knows she is exciting me, too.

I feel the pressure of her finger sliding into my mouth; only for the tip of her finger sliding in and out, in and out, in and out. Repeatedly.

“That.. that.. that..” my thoughts are stuttering; “feels, so good..” I realize, as she continues to move the tip of her index-finger in and out; without permitting the tip of her finger ever leaving my lip entirely.

“Almost there, almost there..” she coos in excitement, as her fingers continues to slip in and out of my mouth, while never losing contact, with my wet lips.

Once she finally is pulling the finger out, there is a distinctly wet noise.

As much as I may try, opening my mouth or at least part my lips; the effort is futile, if not for the joy and effect of the struggle to part my lips.

“But, but..” I ponder; “but, why does it feel so good?” I realize, while I continue to struggle to part my lips.

While I am distracted, trying to part my lips; she is extracting a metallic bloody red belly button membrane tube, sliding her index-finger in and inserts it into my belly button.

There is an unexpected, strange sensation as she slips her extended index-finger into my belly button; then I feel the tube slip in and propagate further and further into my belly button, even as she is pulling her finger out.

She is producing the lip-liner and draws a line along the rim of the inserted belly button tube, thus bonding the tube into my flesh; before she is applying a viscous and crystal-clear gel into the newly formed orifice, before she is repeating the process of bonding the tube to me: once, twice and thrice.

Exactly how deep into me, the tube is reaching; I have no idea, but it is more than the depth of my belly button in any case. I had realized as much, even before she had pulled out her finger.

All of a sudden, I realize she is standing behind me; as the tips of her fore and index fingers are probing the outer rim of the orifice, she just made my belly button into.

“Bonding a tube to you, makes it a part of you; but in the process, you acquire the characteristics of the inserted tube or plug as well!” she explains.

“Is she suggesting, the tubes she inserted are implementing their characteristics; as she bonded them into me, a moment ago?” I ponder.

“Since you asked; I could as well admit to it, your lubrication is not just applied on to you but a part of you..” she coos.

“Could you lift up your right and left fore-hoof?” she is inquiring; while extracting a pair of full-length gloves, or if these would just be another pair of stockings to me.

I am quietly lifting up my right and left fore-hoof as she suggested; only for her to slip the right and left gloves on in turn.

“Could you lift up your right hind-hoof?” she inquires and I comply; only for her to slip the corresponding stocking onto my leg, pulling it all the way up and affording it a few tentative tugs: once, twice and thrice.

“Could you lift up your left hind-hoof?” she inquires and I comply; only for her to slip the corresponding stocking onto my leg, pulling it all the way up and affording it a few tentative tugs: once, twice and thrice.

I am setting down the right, and the left hoof onto the floor; once more standing on my own two hooves.

“There, I hope the ensemble is what you were expecting..” she prompts, as I am finding myself fully dressed.

I just nod, as I can not open my mouth enough to respond verbally; but this does not seem to bother Aloe. Then again, why should it?

As I am looking at the mirror before me, I see Rarity entering the room; ogling me, with invested interest.

“Clip, clop; clip, clop..” is heard, as she walks over the floor of my bed room.

“What you need, right now; is a black skirt and a matching blouse-jacket, to complete the ensemble!” she explains.

“Thank you, Rarity!” Aloe coos, as she is extracting the skirt and blouse-jacket.

“If you lift up your right hoof..” aloe coos and I comply, then she helps me stepping into the skirt.

“If you lift up your right hoof..” aloe coos and I comply, and she is pulling the skirt all the way up, before affording it a few tentative tugs: once, twice and thrice.

Since I have my arms, or fore-legs to the sides of my body; she manages to slip the blouse-top on for me, only to button it up for me.

As I am looking down, I notice the skirt reaching down to my knees, but still skin-tight; which feels odd, with a skirt in mind. However, it is so elastic; I can walk easily, even with hooves.

Aloe is closing the wardrobe-doors; “Place your right and left fore-hoof onto the door of the wardrobe..” she incites and I comply without a thought.

“Just hold on, as if you had hands?” Rarity suggests; “picture it, and try to make it happen..” she continues.

“Oh, oh..” I ponder; “okay!” I conclude, as I make my best, following the instructions she had just given me.

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The June-Bug Consort

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