Author's Note

Parma Sparkle's POV

< --- --- --- >

Going Out: 7

.

I step into my own room, at Twilight’s house; intent on changing into something else, initially what I had worn as I entered the room.

The door slides shut behind me, as I am walking over to my wardrobe.

“Is May or Twilight going to wash these, or will they be clean when I need them, automatically?” I inquire, not quite sure how things are working here.

“Just because someone has to wash them, back at our old home; doesn’t mean that has to be the case here!” I declare. (or, does it?)

“Still, I think I will just hang up my clothes on the left side!” I ponder.

Once I reach my wardrobe, I open the doors; scanning its content, while I am considering my options. Clearly; I have enough hangers available, for the idea I had in mind.

I unbutton my blouse from top to bottom; slipping my arms out of the sleeves, right and left. Finally, I grab the intended hanger; before I hang the blouse on it, buttoning it up neatly, as if it had never been used. With the blouse on the hanger, I place the hanger in the wardrobe, backwards and on the left side of the blouses I have not yet tried on.

“As much as I loved to wear these clothes, including the blouse, I think I need to change into what is recognizable, as my clothes on the other side!” I ponder.

“On second thought; I can still use my new underwear, both Panties and Top..” I ponder; “since they can’t see them, under what I wear over!” I conclude.

“Strange..” I mumble; “I can’t seem to find the clothes I wore before; only the clothes Twilight and May provide for me!” I realize.

“I will just have to assume, the other clothes are still in my other wardrobe!” . Well, why not?

The question is: what I keep on and what I take off, before I go back.

On the other rubbery Hoof, I could just slip everything off in order; before selecting replacements, for what I choose to wear before I go.

Slipping the skirt off, should be easy enough; just slip my fingers in under the rim of the skirt, before sliding it right down. It was. I feel the skirt slide down my legs, just as easily as they slid on before.

I pick up the skirt, hanging it up under the blouse I had just taken off, backwards.

With the skirt of, I slip the top up over my head; hanging it up on the hanger from which I had taken it, but backwards.

“Could I slip my Stockings of now?” I ponder, thinking better of it.

“I should take the socks of, first; preserving the integrity of the garments, so the socks goes first!” I conclude.

While the sock is tight around the Ankle, it yields to my intent; slipping right off, with little to no effort, as soon as I slip my fingers in under the rim. From there, I simply repeat the process; slipping the left sock off of my foot, the next moment. While the trick is to slip my fingers in under the rim of the sock, but it is easy once I consciously intend to do it, in the first place

Once the socks had slipped off of my feet, I repeat the process, with the stockings right and left.

Finally, I slip my panties of; finding myself nude.

“Not even my sister is in the room, this is acceptable!” I put forth.

Of course, I know there is no surveillance or camera active in the room. Why should these be in my room? I doubt Twilight would support, or even accept that in her Cottage. The cottage is after all hers, for all I know or care.

Once I had undressed, or disrobed; hanging up everything I had been wearing in the wardrobe, I can finally focus on what I want to change into. Some ideas were obvious, from the very start; other ideas, maybe not quite so much.

White Panties would be perfectly fine, for daytime wear; while I guess black would be for nighttime wear. I had tried on a pair of Cerise once, finding the colour quite acceptable and satisfactory; but what of lavender? Maybe I could differentiate between what I wear here, and what I wear there?

With that, I pick up the light Purple Panties; stepping into them, before I pull them all the way up. Easy as that. My panties cooperate, eagerly sliding all the way up; only to settle in the most comfortable position, as if on their own accord.

The notion is unsettling; but in practice, I find it overly convenient. Why complain? I enjoy wearing clothes that are easy to put on and comfortable to wear. This is just the ultimate solution, to me.

Once I had put the Panties on, I repeat the process, with the matching top. Just as the Cerise top and Panties, the lavender Top and Panties eagerly slide on; settling into place, comfortably without any fuss.

Now, I can’t live without this convenience; after I had experienced it, for myself.

.

The Panties and Tops come in sets with matching colours, hues; comfortable to wear, like nothing else. I have no experience of anything more comfortable. Then again; I have not even had the time to start school, so what do I know?

I have worn the Cerise set at Twilight’s place, now I intend to wear the Lavender or light Purple set, away from her place.

I guess you could see White as Daytime, and Black as Nighttime.

What all the other colours could mean, I have no idea. I just pick up ideas, assuming these are the expressed purposes and uses. What if I am wrong? What if there were other Purposes and Uses for these colours and hues? I guess I will just have to live with it. Hoping I did not make a mistake, shaming myself in the process.

One idea is that Red is feminine and would be more effeminate in the design, while the Blue would be more masculine and the design would be adjusted accordingly. If this is just a silly idea, from a little Girl; but then, so be it.

I have a White, light Blue, light Yellow, distinct Orange, bright Pink, and finally the light Purple or Lavender once. What was the idea behind these? I have no Idea. Well, maybe they match the colours of Twilight and her Friends, thus representing them in some way? Curious idea, if this was indeed the case. Wouldn’t it be?

I have several other oddly specific colours and hues. Are these representing the Villagers of the original Ponyville?

Finally; I even have a selection of various pinkish hues. I find these a bit too close to the colour of my skin. I will leave these alone. I hope my sister will not try these on, either. I can’t be comfortable with the idea of these even being in my wardrobe.

Am I just too young for these things? I have no idea. I just do not want to consider it, right now.

If they were intended to be skin-tone, thus mimicking the colour of my skin, what would even be the purpose?

When I am putting a pair of Panties on, it is not just to protect my Pants; I demonstrate that you can’t see my skin, because the Panties are on.

.

If I do not have my old clothes here with me, there is nothing I can do about it.

I opt to dress up, to put on the clothes I have right here; covering myself as best I can, before I step over, to my old room.

The light pink stockings looks just fine. It isn’t as if I had to cover my legs anyway.

“Should I wear these short toe-socks now?” I ponder; “I enjoyed how it feels to wear them, and they will only show if I don’t wear regular socks or shoes over them, in the first place!” I conclude.

I end up, opting to slip these socks on, over the stockings, but why not?

It may be a bit silly, but I still want to. It isn’t even cold in my room, as if it would make any difference if I wore both.

“Wait, what?” I mumble under my breath; “I have matching gloves, too!” I realize, as I am scanning the content of my wardrobe.

Where did all these clothes and garments even come from? Who made all these for me? I have no idea. But if the label reads: “Rarity” I can just assume she crafted all of these for me.

For now, I would have preferred it, if she had not crafted all of these. As much as I may be grateful for the effort she had put into making the clothes for me; but some of these are just inappropriate and uncomfortable just to look at. The implications are staggering and quite uncomfortable.

I will take what I like, and leave the rest. I enjoy the stockings and socks, just as I think I will be enjoying the gloves. At least, they look like a lot of fun, based on my previous experience here.

I extract the right full-length glove, slipping my hand into it; feeling the slippery smooth wetness and its liquid elasticity as it eagerly slide all the way up my arm.

Maybe the inner surface of the glove was a bit much; but it slides all the way up, stopping at the top of my arm. Just covering the entire arm, all the way up, showing no skin. Naturally, it does cover my hands and fingers as well; while preserving the image of my hands, almost as if I had not put the glove on in the first place.

I repeat the process, slipping the left glove on. Well, why not? It would have been strange, if I had only put the right glove on.

From there, I pick up the right and left short gloves; slipping them on, feeling my fingers slip into place.

As I look closer, I notice a few peculiar details sticking out; now the tips of my fingers has these cute and sensitive touch pads, and the palm of my hands has a silicone White Suction cup.

The touch pads are visible, as they are a bright Cerise, but the suction cups barely show in the white why they are now.

“Oh.. oh.. oh..” I mumble, as I notice the slight yet distinct changes these gloves are enforcing upon my hands.

“Did these gloves make my fingers look longer?” I ponder; “I guess I could live with the manicured effect they lend to my hands!” I consider: “so long as my nails do not stick out, or look poorly maintained!” I conclude.

“I guess this would be typically Rarity!” I just put forth, giggling at the Mare’s antics.

“Would Mum even notice it?” I ponder.

Probably not, but so long as she does not complain.

I take a step back, closing the wardrobe. Now I take a step to the side, opening the doors to the next one; only to find the entrance to the old room, in my Mother’s house. I step through, only to find myself back where I had come from.

.

I turn around and close the doors, step to the side and open the doors to the wardrobe containing the clothes I intend to wear.

“A Skirt, and a Shirt should be just fine!” I put forth; “the Blouse is a bit too fancy, for the occasion!” I declare.

I extract one of my red cotton skirts; step into it right and left; before I am pulling it all the way up, only to afford it a few tentative tugs: once, twice and thrice.

After I had worn the clothes, Rarity had crafted for me; this skirt suddenly feels a bit unfamiliar and uncomfortable. I know this is one of my better, more comfortable skirts Mum had bought for me, just a while back. Maybe it was a month back. Just that trying on a pair of Rarity’s creations had changed my sensibilities a bit more than I could have been expecting.

“Oh, well..” I mumble; “suck it up, I can’t wear Rarity’s skirt here!” I conclude.

“Well, maybe I could have..” I ponder; “but I don’t feel like revealing my new wardrobe just yet; even if I find the new clothes so much more comfortable to wear!” I conclude.

With the skirt on, I extract a matching shirt. I slip the shirt on, pulling it down.

“Okay; I have to adjust these clothes by myself..” I ponder; “and I have just gotten just to the clothes Rarity had supplied me with!” I moan in disappointment.

I guess I am getting adjusted to new clothes a bit earlier, than intended or expected.

Once I had slipped the shirt on, I had to adjust its fit to fit me reasonably comfortably.

“At least, I am still wearing the Panties and Top under these!” I ponder; giggling to myself, as I walk over to the door out of my room.

I stop before the door, momentarily pondering where the plaque had gone; before I find the handle and open the door, stepping out of my room.

Just after I had closed the door to my room, I notice my older sister exiting her room.

“You managed to get through?” Telestia puts forth.

“Yes, and so did you!” I respond, before I walk over to the dining room.

.

I walk up to the table, pull the chair back; before I sit down and push the chair back under me. My sister, just a few steps behind me.

“Celestia!” I mumble.

“Yes…” she just nod in response, pretending to ignore the purposeful slip of the tongue.

“Just on time for Dinner!” Mum acknowledges.

“Yes..” Telestia puts forth; “exactly!” I fill in.

Since the table had already been made, as we enter; the food is still warm, so we are just in time. I had not heard her preparing the meal, but I guess I can still pick up on the scent of the hot food being served.

“Will she notice I put my new gloves on, just like I am still wearing my stockings..” Telestia ponders; “or does Mum notice it?” she concludes.

“Did you paint your nails?” Mum inquires; “looks pretty!” she adds.

“Yes..” I respond, as I look done onto my nails for a moment; “yes!” Telestia echoes, just a moment later.

“I guess the gloves made my nails glossier, too!” I realize.

“Oh, well..” Mum puts forth; “let’s eat; I know you are just as hungry, as I am!” she proclaims.

< --- --- --- >

An Excursion